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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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1,746
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1/1
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Twice Bitten

Summary:

Permission to archive: yes, please just notify me where
Fandom(s): Boston Legal
Genre (general, hetero or slash): general
Pairing/Characters: Alan/Denny
Rating: FRT
Summary: Afraid of the blossoming friendship between himself and Denny, Alan tries to say good-bye.
Warnings: Spoilers for some of Alan’s appearances in “The Practice.�
Acknowledgments: Denny Crane.
Submitted through the Boston_Legal_Slash mailing list.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Twice Bitten
by Mr. Denny Crane's Ghostwriter

Alan strode into Denny's office, taking a moment to admire the look of concentration on his face. A look that gave Alan a rare sneak peek into the cracker jack attorney Denny Crane must have been twenty years ago. Deep in thought, focused...very much not the man Alan had come to know.

And love.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, as much to shake the sentiment from his brain as to steel himself for an unknown outcome. "Denny," he said softly so as not to startle him.

Denny looked up. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't want to interrupt, you looked soâ€""

"Lucid?"

Alan smiled. "Lucid."

"What's on your mind?"

Alan regarded the pictures hanging on Denny's office wall for a moment before returning a steady gaze to the man seated in the chair. "Denny, I need to leave."

Denny nodded and looked back down at the file on his desk. "Uh-huh, need a vacation, eh?"

"No, Denny," Alan countered, sitting down across from him, being sure to draw his eyes upward. "I mean, I need to leave."

Denny leaned back in his chair. "I don't understand."

"The last two friendships I had...ended badly," Alan explained as matter-of-factly as he could force himself to. "One of them I hurt very deeply. Another hurt me beyond measure." Denny frowned, clearly not comprehending. "I meant what I said last night when I told you I cared about you."

"I know you did."

"That's the problem."

"Why would it be a problem? You've no friends left...you made a new one," Denny shrugged.

"I don't want a new one, Denny." Alan rose, buttoning his suit jacket, and paced to the middle of Denny's expansive office. "One of those two friends I mentioned once told me something. She said, 'I don't think you're entirely well. You are going to self-destruct one day and I can't prevent that.' I lost my job over it. And the day you won my lawsuit, I lost her."

"The big-boned woman, you mean. What's her name...Ellenor."

"Yes."

Denny stood and approached him. "But when I tried to assign you that case against her, you wouldn't take it. You claimed she was a friend."

"I'll always be her friend. She just can't any longer be mine."

"Because of what we did."

"Yes," Alan nodded.

"And the other friend you spoke about?"

"Paul Stewart. He was my best friend. Knew him my whole life. Defended him in a murder trial."

"Ah, yes. Well, you got him acquitted. What happened?"

Alan turned and Denny knew he'd never seen more pain from any pair of eyes than he was seeing that very moment.

"He really killed her."

"He was guilty?"

Alan looked away, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I was convinced of his innocence, Denny. Convinced. I thought, there's no way my best friend could kill. I knew with absolute certainty he hadn't done it." Alan strode to the window, the sun shining through and casting odd shadows on his face. "Afterwards we were having a drink in the tree house. Sharing old times. Reliving our youth."

"And he confessed."

Alan nodded. "And he confessed."

"It's happened before. Every defense attorney has had a client they believed in, only to find out later...they weren't innocent."

"But he wasn't just any client, Denny. He was my best friend."

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with us?"

Alan didn't speak. His mind churned, trying to formulate the best way to put this. A way that would leave the least amount of scars on Denny's back, the least amount of scars on his own heart. At last he turned to find Denny studying him, staring him down, almost daring him with his eyes to speak. As though he knew what Alan was about to say.

"Ellenor was right. I am self-destructive. I have my reasons for that, and I am prepared to live with the consequences of what I do to myself. But I will not drag anyone else down with me." He paused, but Denny said nothing.

At last, Denny looked down at the plush carpeting, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. His lips puckered briefly as he contemplated Alan's statement, but in the end he could only shake his head and hold his hands in the air in confusion.

"Alan, how many friends do you have? Right now?"

"Just the one."

"And...you think you're going to drag me down as you...continue on this path to self-destruction."

"I do."

Denny nodded. He turned and walked over to the wall, then swiveled to face him. "So you're telling me that you're concerned about taking down the man who...sleeps with judges' wives. Sleeps...with clients' wives. Who makes an ass out of himself in court, who never knows exactly what he's doing but insists he's the best damn attorney in Boston."

Alan was surprised. It almost sounded as though Denny recognized his own insanity.

"You're telling me that you think you're going to somehow bring down the man who's the butt of every joke from here to DC and back again, the man who's spent the better part of his life showcasing his lack of scruples, who...makes no bones about the fact that he's wealthy, he's connected and he can therefore do any damn thing he wants." Denny paused, a small smile toying with the corners of his mouth. "Is that what you're telling me, Alan Shore?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds less and less noble."

"It's not noble, it's nothing but damn selfish stupidity. And for what it's worth, if I had any intention of wounding you, I would never have...bared myself to you."

"That hasn't happened yet."

"I meant my heart, Alan. My emotions. Things Denny Crane doesn't admit exist."

Closing his eyes, Alan fought the internal battle that told him he had to go. Had to go or risk sucking Denny down into his cold, dark whirlpool.

"You're Denny Crane. You don't need someone who makes your reputation worse, who gets in your way. This isn't self-sacrificing nobility, Denny. I know who and what I am, and I am going to implode one of these days."

"You're wrong, Alan." Denny walked over to him and stood almost nose-to-nose, staring deep into his eyes. "I'm on my way to hitting the self-destruct button, too." He gave that smile, the one Alan could only describe as drunken. "I don't see any reason why we can't just bottom out together." He waited, but Alan said nothing. "Do you?"

Alan walked slowly to Denny's chair. He ran his hand along the back of it, down the side of it. He sat down in it, turning to face Denny's desk, placing his hands flat atop its smooth, shiny wood surface. He looked at the file. At the desk calendar. At the light. The various memos scattered here and there.

Denny walked over and placed his hand on the back of the chair. "Feels good to sit on top, doesn't it?" When Alan didn't respond, Denny cocked his head. "Do you really think I'm going to ever hurt you as deeply as this...Paul Stewart did?"

"I can't predict the future."

"Nobody can."

Alan looked up at him. "It's possible."

Denny smiled. A soft look that Alan hadn't ever seen before. "Why? Because you care about me?" He squeezed Alan's shoulder. "I know how much, Alan. I may be going senile, but like I once told you, I read people. I read them very, very well."

Alan bit his lip.

"That's what your afraid of, isn't it? Investing yourself too heavily in one commodity? Afraid that it might...bottom out on you?" Alan just looked at some invisible point on Denny's desk. "This stock isn't going to crash. It's the one thing I can say with absolute certainty."

"No, you can't. But it doesn't matter."

"It did a few moments ago."

Alan rose. Denny's hand remained on his shoulder. The men turned and looked at each other. "A few moments ago isn't now."

Denny let his hand fall away, backing up a couple of steps. "I think we're going to be okay." He all-out grinned. "And I say if we're going to go down, let's raise as much hell as we can on our way."

It hurt again. That empty place inside him that had once been filled with friends and the love of his life. That place that had been torn apart time after time after time until it left a gaping hole so large he had no desire to even think about trying to find a way to fill it. He hadn't cared about anything or anyone, least of all himself. And yet here was this man, this strange, wonderful, crazy man who wouldn't just let him walk out.

This time the place inside hurt not because it was once again being torn apart. This time it hurt because Denny Crane was trying, albeit clumsily, to sew it back together. Could he take the chance one last time? Could he chance hurting yet another person he loved? Could he chance having his heart thrown to the dogs once and for all?

"Twice bitten, Denny," he finally said.

"I've been bitten many times, Alan. But in your case, just think of it as...third time's a charm."

Alan's eyes narrowed. "You think you're charming?"

Denny dipped his head, raised his eyes and batted his lashes. "I know I am."

Smiling, Alan shook his head. "Denny Crane."

"Damn straight. Now get out of my office so I can prepare for our opening statement."

"Our opening statement?" Alan asked, eyebrows raised. "But you told Paul you were going to take this case by yourself."

"We did say we were going to do this together, did we not?"

The quizzical look vanished. "Yes. I believe we did."

"Fine. Then get a legal pad and a cigar and meet me back here in fifteen minutes. We've got a case to prepare."

Alan smiled. Perhaps the third time really was a charm.

"We'll keep each other on track. Now get the damned cigars." Nodding, Alan opened the office door. "Oh, and Alan..."

"Yes?" he said, turning to face him.

"Next time you want to leave, make goddamn sure you buy me a ticket, too."

"You, Denny Crane, have a deal."

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Ghostwriter.
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