A/N: Hi all, another d/m fic from me, I'm glad people are still reading and reviewing WaT fics, I'd begun to worry the fandom had died a death haha.

So this was written for a friend of mine, she requested it a while back and I'm only getting around to finishing it up now. She wanted d/m fluff that included the song/movie 'Stand By Me' (great movie, even better song- go check them out!) and I think I did that, even if it is a little OOC (we all know that's what I do best!)

Thanks to the lovely Ruby (frostedgoddess) for beta-ing this! (this is the part when I shamelessly promote her new d/m fic, GO READ IT IT IS AMAZING!)

As always, reviews are wonderful and feel free to PM me if you have any criticism etc. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Without A Trace or the characters. I do not own Stand by Me movie OR song.

Being around drunk people-and alcohol, in general-made Danny more uncomfortable than he liked to admit. However, this was a celebration; a happy occasion; a family gathering. He could make an exception, a sacrifice, for the sake of the night going smoothly for two people who really deserved some luck.

Until the woman-who was he kidding? She looked about fifteen…she was a girl, goddamitt-next to him offered, for the third time in the last hour alone, to buy him a shot of 'somethin wicked' to 'show a nice guy like him a good time.'

"I don't want a drink!" he snapped, realising too late that the room had gone quiet, signalling the beginning of the after-dinner toasts. When people from other tables turned to him, he felt his cheeks sting with embarrassment. For a brief moment, he considered just getting up and leaving-but the warm, gentle hand on his thigh was a reassurance. He looked at Martin, who offered him a small smile which said nothing of the shame Danny's stupid temper and recovering alcoholic status had just delivered.

Judging by the frustrated way in which his brother repeatedly cleared his throat as he attempted to draw the room's attention back to himself, Danny guessed Rafael wasn't feeling quite as forgiving.

After the speeches-they were much too contrived and awkward to really be of interest to Danny, besides, Martin's hand was still on his thigh…he so wasn't going to salvage enough brain power to focus on anything else-the lights began to dim in preparation for the first dance. The other guests at their table took this as a cue to go to the bar, while Sylvia's large family and the kids took pictures with the 'happy' couple.

Danny pulled his chair closer to Martin's. "I'm really glad you came tonight," he admitted, suddenly feeling unusually at a loss for words. "I know you have a lot on your mind."

This wasn't an exaggeration, either. A suspicious tip-off to Van Doren had their entire unit under deep investigation, dragging up a lot of rule breeches they all would have preferred be kept buried. The latest in a long line of slip-ups uncovered was one regarding a mistake made during the early stages of Martin's addiction. As a result, Martin was very much in the focus of this latest witch hunt-although OPR did not know about the pain killers, they were not far from working it out. Coupled with the other string of…questionable interrogations and findings they could tie Martin to, well…his career was well and truly on the line.

At first, Danny had worried Martin would completely flip out and reject him. Push him away; panic and end things between them. But, so far, none of that had happened. Sure, Martin was worried (Danny knew he wasn't sleeping, although he pretended he was) but if he thought their relationship was a catastrophe just waiting to be discovered and ruin both of their careers, well, he never said so.

All the same, when Danny casually told Martin about Rafael's upcoming wedding, (hasty, yes, but he was out on bail, which made it a now-or-never sort of situation) he wasn't actually expecting to be encouraged to attend. And when he asked Martin if he'd like to come (testing the water, really) he certainly had not expected Martin to agree almost immediately.

"I'm glad I came," Martin now replied, his blue eyes soft and open. "But you don't seem to be. Wanna talk about it?"

Danny bit his lip. "I just…" he waved his hand, unable to conjure the correct words to describe the rush of emotions he felt. "I just hate seeing people get so drunk they can't even walk a straight line. It's like watching a train crash and burn in slow motion and not being able to tear your eyes away."

Martin took a sip of his ice water. "I think this has less to do with alcohol and more to do with your brother."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Danny said with a shrug, but all the same, he couldn't force himself to meet Martin's eyes.

"It must be difficult for you, being around Rafi again," Martin mused, and Danny recognised the 'sound-casual' tactic as a way to get him to talk. The gentle way with suspects and witnesses.

"It's fine," Danny lied. In all truth, being around Rafi again was difficult. He didn't really understand why, but every time he saw Rafi with Sylvia and their two kids, he felt like someone had stuck a knife in his stomach. He loved his nephew and niece, and Sylvia was a great woman who was good for Rafi-too good, probably. Still, the thought of his brother easing effortlessly into a family life with them stirred up raging resentment inside Danny- what made them enough for Rafi, when he'd never been? Why hadn't Rafi ever gotten clean-and stayed clean-for him?

Every time he saw Rafi laughing with his kids, being all fatherly and protective, Danny would automatically flash back to the nights spend in foster homes, crying himself to sleep, thinking his brother was probably lying dead in a gutter somewhere. Every time he saw Rafi being a family man, he couldn't help but think, how come you didn't think I deserved that?

He was being childish and petty-he knew that deep down. In actuality, Rafi hadn't stayed clean in the end, and the fact he was even on bail suggested he still wasn't the perfect role model for his family. But Danny couldn't shake the jealous part of him that liked to remember Rafi would never have stayed clean so long-longer than he ever had when Danny needed him- or done all the things he had done leading up to his relapse if it weren't for his brand new family acting as a glowing initiative.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Martin suggested.

"Maybe you should concentrate on your own problems." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Danny wished he could take them back. He also wished he could punch himself in the face because Martin was only trying to help.

But his family had always been Danny's button, and Martin knew this. This was, perhaps, the only reason Martin did not look offended by Danny's comment.

Oddly enough…he smiled. "What problems?" Martin asked. "My boyfriend invited me to his brother's wedding which pretty much marks the only public thing we have ever done as a couple, we've got the weekend off from work, he's looking pretty sexy in his tuxedo-" Martin paused, and pointed at the speaker above them. "And look at that! They're playing my favourite song!"

Danny had not been paying attention to the music-he doubted anything from a wedding playlist could be anything but cheesy crap anyway- but now, he listened.

When the night, has come, and the land is dark.

"Hey!" Danny said. "That's the song from the movie with those four kids, right?"

Martin nodded. "Freaking amazing movie."

Danny couldn't help but notice the way Martin's eyes glowed in the dim lighting. "I haven't seen it in years," he said, and then he shrugged. "I didn't really like it anyway. It was pretty depressing."

Martin looked horrified. "That is blasphemy, Danny! That movie is epic."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "Did you just say 'epic'?" he asked. When had his boyfriend turned into a gushing teenage girl?

But Martin wasn't listening. "-it's like a timeless masterpiece of friendship woven with loyalty and bravery! How could you-ugh, I just don't understand you." Martin looked exaggerated, like Danny had just told him the sky was really orange or something. Then, his face lit up. "I know what we're doing this weekend!"

Danny groaned. "You're not actually going to force me to sit through it, are you?"

Martin nodded happily, oblivious to Danny's discomfort-or maybe he just didn't mind it. "We are going to watch that movie on repeat until you love it as much as I do."

Danny suspected, from the enthusiasm oozing from Martin on the movie's behalf, there would not be enough hours in the weekend for that to be the case.

"Uh-"

He was about to complain, or change the subject in the hopes Martin might forget, but suddenly Martin's hand was slipped through his and Danny was being pulled to his feet.

"Where are we going?" Danny asked, looking around bewildered. The dance floor was now full of heterosexual married couples gazing into each other's eyes. He wanted to gag.

"We," Martin said, in a tone that implied it was totally obvious and Danny was a total idiot for even asking, "are going to dance."

"Uh, hell no," Danny said, laughing at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. "I don't dance. Hell, Martin, you don't dance."

Martin shrugged, like he they weren't in an alternate universe where Martin Fitzgerald's coaxed Danny Taylor's onto dance floors during sappy songs. "I can make an exception this once."

Danny just blinked at him. "Who the hell are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"

"This is my favourite song," Martin elaborated. "From my favourite movie. Which, you, my favourite person, is going to watch all weekend from the comfort of our bed."

"This is my brother's wedding," Danny pointed out.

"Well, there's that," Martin said, laughing. "That sort of makes this a special occasion too. All the more reason to celebrate with a dance."

Danny had lost the argument, he was in too much shock to protest properly anyway. Instead, he just allowed Martin to lead him to the dance floor and wrap an arm around his waist.

They were about mid-song now, but Martin didn't seem to care. He also didn't seem to notice the whispers and the stares from the other guests. Danny did, of course, but he was still stunned by Martin's behaviour, unable to properly process the fact they had basically just come out to a bunch of strangers.

Martin was humming the tune to the song, and the way he was looking at Danny sent shivers of anticipation up his spine. "Okay, so spill," Danny murmured, quiet enough only Martin could hear. "A personality transplant or a Class A drug?"

A huff of a laugh touched his ear. "Neither. I'm just glad you asked me to come, is all."

Danny was skeptical. "Well, if it takes your mind off work..."

"So long as you stand, stand by me."

It took Danny a minute to realise that Martin's sweet whisper in his ear were also the next words of the song. "I didn't realise you were singing along there," Danny said, feeling like an idiot for almost blushing.

Martin smirked. "I wasn't. Well, not just singing along." Danny didn't quite get it, but Martin was generous enough to explain. "I'm done worrying about work. I love my job, I'm damn good at my job, I don't regret one moment I've spent at MPU. But if that's not enough for the vultures, and if it's a question of my personal life or my professional one, well, I'm content to pack up my desk and walk out with my dignity intact."

Danny bit his lip. "Really?"

Martin nodded. "Yeah. And as long as I have you on my side, as long as you stand by me, then I'm not worried about any of the other stuff." Danny followed Martin's gaze to the other side of the room, where Rafi was high-fiving Nicki and Sylvia was rocking the baby. Martin squeezed his hand. "And you shouldn't either."

Danny turned back to Martin and smiled. "I'm going to have a real tough weekend with you and this dumb movie, aren't I?"

Martin grinned; part angel, part devil. "Oh, hell yes."

By Sunday night, Danny had just about lost the will to live.

As they lay down in bed together that night, Danny buried his face in his pillow. He felt Martin place a soft kiss on his cheek.

"See ya, Chris," Martin said happily, switching off the lights and tugging the covers from Danny's grasp as he settled next to him.

"Not if I see you first," Danny grumbled, wondering if two days of listening to your boyfriend gush over Keiffer Sutherland was enough to constitute murder in the state of New York.

EDIT: A/N- more shameless self-promotion...go check out my WaT multi-chapter collab with frostedgoddess! It's called Promises and Politics and if you can't stumble across it here there is a link in my profile! Again, thanks for reading! 3