Nicholas Angel had never been a selfish person. They had tried their whole life not to be. When Janine broke up with them and explained why, they accepted that.
They knew that Janine's life was her own, and they wished her nothing but the best, only asking to remainder friends and stay in each others' lives.
And even when she became frustrated with that as well, Nicholas took notice and made sure not to bother her anymore.
Nicholas tried their best not to be a jealous person, either. When less efficient cops at the Met advanced them in rank, they figured that they had done something to deserve it.
They congratulated them, and wished them the best of luck. They attended parties and showed support. Because that was what a good person did.
But one thing that stirred both envy and egocentrism in the Inspector was one Sergeant Danny Butterman. He and Nicholas were...
kind of an item? Well, more friends with benefits, according the technical definition. And it was certainly out of character for Nicholas, but they couldn't help it.
One too many nights of drinking and over sharing and loneliness had become an accident. Then a trial. Then a habit. And it was a bad habit, too.
They had gotten together more and more, always blaming it on the booze. Or the tension from work. Always something other than just lust and craving.
Love? Hell, Nicholas didn't know what to call it. It drove them mad. The cop would spend nights lying awake in bed as they thought about it, trying to dissect it and figure it out and define it.
All with no success. All they could figure out was that it was stronger than just wanting, but the possibilities that led to honestly frightened Nicholas a bit.
But when they saw Danny chatting up a new PC, Nicholas had reached a boiling point.
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