Personal Safety

Title: Personal Safety
By: nancy
Pairing: Danny/Mac
Warnings: NC18, discipline, angst.
Archive: sure! just let me know!
Feedback: yes, please!
Summary: When Danny doesn't think before he acts, Mac comes up with an unusual punishment.

Exhausted from a double that had him at the unexpected end of three a.m., Danny barely saw the streets as he walked towards the subway to go home. It was chilly, the season had definitely already turned, but he didn't really feel it, numbed by the need for sleep. All he wanted was bed, Mac to curl up around, and sleep.

He heard muffled sounds from an alley as he walked by and turned to find a woman being dragged out of sight, further down the narrow space. Danny reacted on instinct shouting, "Hey! Hey, you! Let her go!" and ran after them, hoping he wasn't too late.

The clang of a door had him cursing, but he didn't stop. He yanked at the only door in sight and, thankfully, it opened. Halfway down the hall, Danny saw the woman pinned against the wall with a knife to her throat, crying. Pissed, but cautious now that a weapon was in play, Danny called out, "Hey, buddy, why don't you let the lady go?"

Wild, bloodshot eyes turned his way and Danny cursed again, this time silently. Drug addict, no doubt.

"What the hell's it to you, huh? Maybe this bitch owes me!" the man shouted, pressing the blade into her throat.

"Hey! Hey, easy!" Danny exclaimed. "Take it easy now, okay? She can't pay you if she's dead, right? Tell you what, I got some money here on me, how about I cover her, okay? That sound good?"

Danny slowly reached back, wishing he could take the time to draw his gun, but not liking how the addict tracked his every movement with those crazy eyes. Just as well he had a coat over his gun and his badge off, or the guy probably would've just killed the woman and taken off without thinking twice. Taking his wallet out, he use exaggerated care as he walked closer and took cash out of the fold. He met the woman's terrified brown eyes and willed her to stay calm, just like she was doing.

Things went fine until the wind slammed the door shut behind him. In seeming slow motion, the druggie spasmed and shouted and then just threw the knife at Danny. He had just enough time to dodge, but didn't quite miss it, feeling a slice of fire along his shoulder. Ignoring it, he rushed forward to chase after, but the woman collapsed to the floor and Danny had to stop to make sure she was okay.

She shook her head and launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck in a too-tight hold and babbling her thanks and her fear mixed together. Danny coughed a bit at the constriction, but rubbed her back soothingly and tried to figure out how to reach his cell phone to call for the backup that he should've called in the first place.

And that was when he realized just how Mac was likely to view the whole situation.

Danny couldn't decide between calling and waking Mac up to tell him what happened, or letting him get a full night's sleep and hoping that that put his lover in a better mood. But then the uniforms who responded to his belated call for backup jumped the gun and called an ambulance and the EMTs herded him into the bus, overriding his protests with a stern, "You need a tetanus shot and stitches at least, Detective."

Knowing that a refusal of treatment would just piss Mac off more, Danny acquiesced and let himself be taken care of, to the suspicious look from the EMT. Guessing that the woman had dealt with many stubborn cops, he just offered a weak smile and said, "Might as well get it over with, right?"

Then, when they got there, Danny was kept busy filling out forms and giving his statement while a young ER doc cleaned and stitched his arm. He gritted his teeth through the tetanus shot and obediently took the antibiotics, even though they were sure to wreak havoc on his stomach with no food in it. And then the well-meaning ER doc took extra blood to run an HIV test since they didn't have the drug addict to check, which had never even occurred to him.

By then, it was almost eight in the morning so Danny wasn't at all surprised when he heard Mac's sharp, controlled, "Detective Danny Messer. Where is he?"

Too tired to do anything except sigh, and even that turned into a yawn, Danny was still sitting on the exam bed when Mac pushed aside the curtain and then pulled it closed behind him. Mac's gaze flickered over him lightening fast, but Danny knew the other man didn't miss a thing. The pinched expression tightened more, telling him that the normally undemonstrative man was either frantic or pissed. Maybe both. Just as well he hadn't tussled with the addict because the single bandage around his bicep was damning enough. If there'd been bruises, who knew what Mac might've done.

As it was, Mac surprised him by approaching and simply cupping the back of his head to bring him in for a hard, hungry kiss. And then a much gentler one to his forehead, one that lingered. Danny sighed again and scooted forward so he could rest his head on Mac's shoulder, exhaustion dragging at his eyelids.

Mac kissed his temple and told him simply, "I was worried when you didn't come home and called Flack."

In another unexpected move, Mac slapped him upside the back of the head and retorted, "You should be!"

"Not for that," Mac corrected, clearly exasperated. "For not calling in backup! Danny, there were at least three units in the immediate vicinity because of the crime scene!"

Shaking his head, Mac told him, "One of these days, you're going to realize that I mean what I say about your personal safety. Until then, you're in serious hot water here, mister."

Trying to look as pitiful as he felt, which really wasn't difficult, Danny pleaded, "Can we do it after I've had some sleep? Please?"

Mac's lips twitched suspiciously before he agreed, "After you've slept. But we will be addressing this."

The doctor chose that moment to come in and announce, "The police think they've found your assailant, Detective! Do you have a moment?"

Mac helped him off the exam bed which, to his surprise, Danny discovered he needed. His legs gave out a little, causing him to stumble into his lover's support. Mac's hand stayed on his back as they left the exam area for the lobby where Flack and two uniforms stood with the guy who had, mostly accidentally, stabbed him.

Flack glanced over him, taking in the bandage in the same, swift glance that Mac had, and promptly grabbed the addict by the shirt. "You and me are gonna have some face time, right now. See ya, Messer. Mac."

Mac returned the cop's nod and he and Danny watched as the perp was hauled out of the hospital. Turning to Danny, he said in a low, hard voice, "The next time you pull a stunt like this, you're going to have a hell of a lot more to look forward to than a beating, Daniel."

The ride home was silent and even though he hated the distance between them, Danny was too tired not to fall asleep when they hit leftover morning commuter traffic. Next he knew, Mac shook his shoulder from outside the SUV to wake him. Blinking at his lover blearily, Danny yawned and asked, "We home?"

Sliding his arm around Mac's waist, Danny rested on him through the garage, up the elevator, and down the hall to their apartment. By the time they got there, he was mostly asleep again, trusting Mac to get him to bed without a second thought. And then he was in bed, the softness of pillow and mattress beneath him and a contented groan escaping as he burrowed into their comfort.

"Danny, Danny come on, baby, stay awake a little longer," Mac ordered, rolling him onto his back. "I want you out of these clothes and under the shower for a little, okay?"

Tears of sheer frustration and exhaustion filled his eyes as he begged, "I just want to sleep, Mac, please?"

Fully tempted to throw a fit, Danny only managed to pull back because he was already in a shitload of trouble. Pushing upright again, Danny carefully pulled off his shirt and then stood, letting Mac undress his pants and then stepping out of them and his boxers. He tossed his glasses on the bedside table and stomped to the bathroom, almost knocking into the wall because he didn't see it clearly.

Mac sounded exasperated again as he commanded, "Danny! Stop and let me wrap the bandage!"

Glowering, Danny turned on the shower first and then stayed still long enough for Mac to tape plastic something around his arm to protect the bandages from the water. He stepped into the tub and under the spray, hissing in reaction to the heat. A little startled by Mac joining him a few seconds later, Danny started to turn, but Mac held him in place.

"Just stay put. Let me wash you down. I don't want you catching anything," Mac said against his ear. "Relax, baby boy, I've got you now."

Taking a deep breath, Danny forced himself to let it out slowly and leaned back against Mac, letting his head loll back on his lover's shoulder. Mac's hands slowly stroked over his stomach and he nuzzled at Danny's throat. They stood there a while before Mac picked up the soap and started washing Danny. That, along with the hot water falling over his body sent him into a minor daze. The whole thing felt surreal in a pleasant, sleepy way.

The words jarred him a little, but Danny obeyed without question, too over-tired to even think of doing anything else. Mac supported him more fully, keeping an arm under his shoulder as he snagged a towel and dried them both off. The second time he fell into bed, it was to curl around Mac, sleep claiming him instantly.

Danny woke slowly, an angry throbbing in his arm making him groan. Rolling off his side onto his back, he looked to the side to find himself alone in bed. He called out, "Mac? Where are you?"

Relief ran through him and he relaxed a little. For a few seconds, he'd thought that Mac had been pissed enough to leave without even settling things. He reached blindly for his glasses, putting them on so the room would come into focus. Climbing carefully out of bed, he grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser and awkwardly pulled them on one-handed before heading out of the bedroom.

Mac was cooking breakfast when Danny got there, already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, though still barefoot. Without turning around, he said, "We've got the rest of the week off."

Mac turned around at that and said pointedly, "Maybe not, but we'll need some recovery time for your punishment."

Danny scrunched down a little, slinking over to the table to sit and wait for breakfast. Any way he could avoid his punishment for as long as possible was all right with him.

"Don't worry, we're not doing anything until a bit later in the day," Mac told him. "I want you to be all right before we do anything. Your pain meds are in the bathroom. Go take one."

Arching an eyebrow at him, Mac questioned, "Do you really want to argue with me right now?"

Danny silently left the kitchen for the bathroom to take one of the pain pills. Deciding to get dressed, he pulled out some sweats and tugged them on before going back into the kitchen. Mac had filled plates with scrambled eggs and bacon by then. Even though Danny wasn't really hungry, he knew he had to eat if he didn't want to get sick shortly because of the medication. Not to mention that not eating was the quickest way to piss Mac off.

Mac sat across from him and started eating silently, making Danny even more nervous. He didn't know what his lover had in mind as punishment, but it was bound to be a doozy. Eating triggered his appetite, fortunately, so he cleared his plate pretty quickly, finishing before Mac. It gave him time to watch the other man, trying to gauge what was going on inside his mind. Not that he'd ever been able to do so before, but he kept trying.

"So here's what's going to happen today," Mac said, not looking up from his plate. He pushed around some eggs and continued, "We're going to have a nice, quiet morning. You're going to stand in the corner in the living room while I do paperwork. You're going to think about what you did and what you should have done."

Danny swallowed heavily, wanting to say so much but knowing that it was too soon. He stood and did as he was told. Mac wouldn't let him out of the corner until he was good and ready, even if Danny had to piss like a racehorse. There hadn't been an accident yet, but he'd come damn close a couple of times. He no longer took Mac's instructions lightly.

Time passed beyond slowly. He listened to Mac as the other cleaned the kitchen and put things away. He stared at the too-familiar, bland paintjob of off-white that didn't even have any cracks or holes in it to relieve the boredom. Occasionally he closed his eyes and thought about everything except the reason he was there. It was too long a time, though, and eventually he had no choice but to go over the incident in excruciating detail in his mind. He second-guessed himself, thought about every single thing that he should've done different until he was squirming with guilt and self-loathing.

Danny turned gratefully to find Mac sitting on the sofa just looking at him, pensive. A little apprehensive, Danny asked, "Should I talk now?"

But Mac shook his head. "Not yet. Time for punishment. Let's go into the bedroom."

Heart pounding, Danny preceded his lover into the other room and stood by the bed, waiting. His eyes remained locked on Mac as he went to the closet and returned with a thick leather belt, the one that Mac wore with the jeans he used for outdoors work. Danny's stomach dropped at the sight of it. Mac had used that belt on him only once, after the incident where he'd fired in the subway. He literally hadn't been able to sit down for three days after that beating. Once had been more than enough. Or, so he'd thought. Mac obviously thought different.

Danny took it, confused as to why. And then Mac confused him further by stripping and putting his clothes in the hamper. "Mac, what's goin' on here?"

Facing him, Mac informed him, "Since the discipline doesn't seem to be doing you much good, we're going to do something different. You are going to strap me, Danny."

Mac countered sternly, "You can, and you will. Fifty stripes at full strength. Every time you hit me without any force because you want to go easy on me, we start over. If you try to stop early, we start over."

Danny had never struck Mac once in their relationship, not even in play. Mac occasionally became collateral damage in holding Danny back from doing something stupid, taking an elbow somewhere uncomfortable, but that was it. "Mac, I can't. I'm not, I can't!"

Folding his arms over his chest, Mac stated, "This is your punishment. You need a taste of what I go through whenever you get hurt because you don't think. You need to understand just how much it kills me to see a bandage on you, or stitches, or a bruise that could easily have been prevented. The whole point of discipline is to make you think, but clearly the physical portion isn't doing anything. So now you have to learn, Danny, you have to or..."

Mac sighed, running a hand over his face. "Or we have to rethink everything on which we've based our relationship."

Deeply shaken, Danny wanted to throw the belt away or even beg Mac to use it on him, but he knew from tone of voice and expression that his lover was deadly serious. To him, this was the only way. Pushing away memories that suddenly crowded close, determined to do what Mac wanted, Danny took a deep breath. He released it slowly and then said softly, "Um, bend over the bed?"

It was bizarre, seeing Mac like that, and Danny had to take a few seconds to move into position. "How do I, uh, where should I aim?"

Biting his lip, Danny folded the belt over, taking a firm grip on the buckle and end of it. There was no way the metal would get loose to hurt Mac even more. Danny's arm went up, but it took all he had to bring it back down, the leather coming into contact with the fleshy part of Mac's ass with a resounding crack that startled him.

Thinking that it might be better to get through it as quickly as possible, Danny began a firm, serious rhythm. He kept count mentally, blocking out the small grunts of pain and the loud sound of leather on flesh. Focusing on avoiding the kidneys and thighs, not wanting Mac to be completely out of commission when it came to sitting down, Danny struck only the ass and shoulder area. With his knowledge of the human body, it was easy enough to avoid problem areas.

By the time he got to thirty, Mac cursed just loud enough to hear. At forty, his fingers clutched the bed in a white-knuckled grip and he stood stock-still. When Danny stopped at fifty, sweat ran down Mac's body, which didn't move. He could barely see the other man breathe.

The first thing Mac said, hissed really, was, "Fuck, I forgot what an arm you have from baseball!"

Danny watched as Mac slowly straightened up, taking his time, and then faced him. Tears had run down his lover's face during the course of things and pain still pinched it tight. And then a concerned frown surfaced and Mac asked, "Danny? Are you okay?"

Danny's mouth opened, but nothing came out. All he saw was the pain, pain that he'd caused, and nausea hit, hard and fast. He ran to the bathroom, barely making the toilet before heaving everything in his stomach. He retched for what seemed like an eternity, his mind locked on the last beating he'd taken from his father. It hadn't been with a belt, but with a fist and the wooden handle of a broken broom. Danny hadn't been able to walk away from it; he'd had to lie there in his own blood while Louie called an ambulance. He'd left home after that and never gone back.

Now his new home was ruined because he couldn't think before acting. Mac hated him. He had to, after that kind of beating. Danny knew because he'd hated his father after that.

Abruptly realizing that he was screaming, Danny stopped. He didn't even remember when he'd stopped throwing up or moved from the toilet. Blinking in shock as he took in the destruction of the bathroom, he found Mac holding onto the doorframe, pain and fear etched into his face. Danny dropped to the floor, curling around his knees, burying his face in the space there. Mac was scared of him now, they really were ruined.

"Jesus, Danny. Baby, I'm sorry," Mac exclaimed harshly, arms wrapping around Danny. "I didn't know, I would never have done that, if I'd known."

Lifting his head, Danny met Mac's worried gaze and whispered, "How can you touch me? I'm a fuckin' monster!"

Mac's arms tightened around him and he kissed Danny on the mouth before stating, "No, you're not. And if I'd known about your father, I never would've pushed you into this. I'm sorry, Danny, so sorry. It will never happen again."

"I promised myself," Danny said softly. "I promised I would never touch anyone I loved like that. But I did. I hurt you, Mac. I hurt you and, and I can't ever forgive myself."

Kneeling with a wince, Mac cupped his face and told him, "There's nothing to forgive, Danny. I told you to do it, remember? This is nothing like what your father did to you. I love you, okay? I will always love you, no matter what. You're my life, Danny."

Danny wanted to believe him, but his body rebelled again and he had to turn to the toilet again. This time, Mac was there, soothing him through the upheavals, grounding him in the present so that he didn't slip into the past. When he sat back, Mac held a cup to him and he obediently swished and spit to get the nasty taste out of his mouth.

"C'mon. Let's go to bed and talk," Mac suggested gently, hand stroking over Danny's hair.

But common sense hit and Danny shook his head, countering, "We need to put lotion on you before you stiffen up too much more. I don't know how you're moving now as it is."

Mac's lips twisted as he reminded, "High pain threshold. It's not the first time I've been on the other end of the strap, Danny."

Something that Danny had instinctively known, but never had confirmation of before. No real Dom wielded whips, belts, and the like without having first experienced them. Not the good ones, anyhow, and Mac was the best. He got to his feet and grimaced in pain when he unclenched his fist from around the buckle. Sure enough, he had a bloody gash from the force with which he'd held it.

"Ah shit," Mac muttered. "Come on, rinse that off so we can clean and bandage it up."

Danny didn't argue, not wanting to upset the fragile balance between them just then. They stood, helping each other up, and walked to the sink to take care of Danny's hand. He let Mac do it, sensing that was what he needed to do. It wasn't as bad as it had seemed at first glance and a large band-aid took care of things.

When Mac turned to get the lotion they used after a session, Danny got a good look at his handiwork and felt sick again. There were so many thick, red welts all over, barring the area around the kidneys. He stepped forward impulsively and put his hands on Mac's hips, holding him in place. Mac went still and then goosebumps erupted when Danny oh-so-gently kissed the center spot between the shoulder blades, a barely-there action.

Releasing him, Danny took the lotion and waited for him to go first. It didn't take long for Mac to get comfortable on the bed, and Danny took the opportunity to get rid of his sweats and boxers. He knelt up over Mac and squirted some of the lotion on his hand, warming it there for a few seconds before carefully rubbing it into the welts on his lover's ass. Mac tensed at the contact, but Danny ignored it, knowing how much better it would feel to the other man once everything was done.

He took his time, going slow and easy and eventually, Mac relaxed into the bed. When Danny heard the first soft snore, he smiled, but kept going. The first once-over of the aloe mixture had already been absorbed by the hot, tight skin. It wasn't until the third time that Mac's skin remained sticky and damp, the lotion having been absorbed as much as possible. They were halfway through the container and he made a mental note to pick more up, even though he knew they wouldn't be using it for that reason for quite a while.

Danny left the bed to turn up the heat so Mac wouldn't get cold during the night, but didn't return to it after. He pulled a chair over so he could watch his lover, not comfortable enough right then to get back into the bed. He wanted to, desperately, but just couldn't make himself do it.

The phone rang, startling him, and Danny moved fast to get it, grabbing it from the bedside table on Mac's side and answering softly, "Mac Taylor residence."

Surprised, Danny headed for the living room as he confirmed, "Yeah, Stel, it's me. What's up?"

"Well, for one you're answering the phone and for another, we got a disturbance call about five minutes ago from someone on Mac's floor."

Danny flushed and explained awkwardly, "Yeah, that was me. I uh, I kinda had a flashback to my old man beating the crap out of me."

Annoyed by her pointed tone, Danny took a breath before correcting, "It wasn't a nervous breakdown, just a flashback. And no, he fell asleep after. It was about a half-hour ago. Don't know why whoever it was bothered, if they waited that long."

"Hey, at least someone called. Most people don't until that funny smell starts to go through the walls," she chided.

Danny knew that she'd been about to have him wake Mac up to make sure he was okay. It hurt, but he tried not to take it personally. Mac was her oldest friend in the world, after all. That she hadn't asked to speak to him spoke to her trust of him. "I will."

It was an outright lie, but the truth was way too complicated for a phone call so he hung up.

Mac slept straight through the night, so far as Danny could tell. He, himself, woke every couple hours, thanks to the uncomfortable position in the chair. It was both punishment and vigil. He only got up a couple times to get some water and relieve himself. When dawn came, Danny stood sluggishly and went to take a shower. He didn't bother to clean up the mess he'd made, not wanting the noise to wake Mac. Instead, he carefully wrapped both bandages in plastic to keep them dry and then did his best to wake up under the hot spray.

Several minutes later, he turned off the water and dried off, taking a while to just stare at himself in the mirror. He looked the same as the day before, if really tired, but that didn't seem right somehow. Shouldn't his outside match his broken insides?

Danny shook himself out of the reverie with an effort and took off the plastic before heading into the bedroom. He wasn't all that surprised to find Mac awake and turned on his side, watching the bathroom door. Offering a brief smile, Danny greeted, "Mornin.'"

"Morning," Mac replied. He nodded at the chair and continued, "You didn't come to bed?"

Fidgeting a bit, Danny answered, "Just wanted to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were okay."

Raising a hand in an 'I surrender' gesture, Mac said, "Truce, Danny. I just...we should talk."

Something Danny didn't really want to do, but he knew Mac wouldn't leave it alone until he was satisfied. Sighing, he walked over to the bed and sat cross-legged on it.

Mac looked up at him, plainly not going to move from possibly his only comfortable position, and then asked, "Why didn't you tell me about that promise?"

Awkward, Danny pointed out, "Not something that usually comes up in conversation."

"It's supposed to in a relationship like ours," Mac countered. "I seem to remember a long conversation about limits and safewords and personal histories and possible emotional triggers. Not to mention a lot of other conversations about your family where none of what happened last night ever came up."

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Danny said defensively, "I didn't know how to bring it up, okay? It's just, it's a real personal thing, all right?"

Three words that he'd never thought to hear from Mac. Not just the words, but the defeated tone in which they'd been spoken were completely alien to the other man. Mac never gave up on anything. Sick at heart, stomach clenched in anticipation of rejection, Danny questioned, "Do you still want this? Us?"

Mac's hesitation was long enough to start Danny's heart pounding against his chest. He finally said, "I do, but I think we need to reconsider some aspects of our relationship. The fact that you didn't tell me something so...fundamental...to yourself means you didn't trust me enough to do so. And this kind of relationship, any relationship, needs trust to work."

Not an outright 'no,' but not what Danny wanted, either. He liked how their relationship was. No, more than that. He needed it to stay how it was. The denial was out before he could censor it. A simple, firm, "No."

"No. I don't want that. I want us to stay like we were. I need us to stay like we were. Mac..." and here Danny stretched out, scooting right up close to his lover. "I screwed up, I get that. I didn't tell you something important and it backfired big-time. But it was one time. I don't got any other emotional bombs waiting to go off. Not that I know of, anyhow. And I learned my lesson here, boy did I learn my lesson. Trust me when I say I'm gonna think before I do something dangerous. Doesn't mean I won't be in danger again, not with the job like it is, but I'll call for backup, I'll be Mr. By The Book. I think we should get passed this and keep going. I know we should."

Gazing at him intently, Mac didn't say anything for a long time. It seemed an age before he replied, "Okay. If you say there's nothing else that you're holding back, I'll believe you. But Danny, this can't happen again. If it does..."

Danny took Mac's hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the palm. "It won't. That's it. You now know all my deepest secrets and scars. Lucky you."

Mac's lips twitched into a half-smile as he echoed, "Lucky me for sure. C'mere."

Moving eagerly, Danny closed the distance between them and sighed deeply when Mac's arms went around him, holding him tight. Resting his head on his lover's shoulder, Danny let himself relax into the embrace. Things would probably be shaky for a while, but they would go on. For once in his miserable life, Danny wasn't going to walk away without a fight. He might not be the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he knew that this was the most important thing to ever happen to him.

Mac's breath hitched audibly at the quiet declaration, but he only said, "I love you, too, Danny."