Dan wanted to be a good husband; he wanted to give Phil the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him. He had no problem with Phil having a space to himself when he needed some time alone, especially given how cramped their flat generally was. Phil’s dismissiveness and secrecy, though, only made Dan’s curiosity continue to build.

Usually, they worked at the same time and stayed home at the same time, as a result of their still being partners even at the station. However, Dan was feeling a bit ill today, so after placing a hot cup of tea in his hand and a kiss on his forehead, Phil went off to work while Dan stayed home.

For most of the day, Dan watched movies and browsed tumblr, only taking a break to heat up a bowl of soup for lunch. But in the afternoon, he began to get restless. He wasn’t ill enough for his mind to cease its functioning; honestly, he probably would’ve still gone into work if it hadn’t been for Phil insisting that he needed his rest and that he could handle the paperwork for a day while Dan worked on getting better.

And the more his mind wandered, the more he kept thinking about what Phil could possibly be hiding from him. He didn’t want to invade Phil’s space or violate his privacy in any way, but a small voice in his head wouldn’t stop telling him that he had a right to know. It was his flat and his husband.

He rose slowly from the sofa, still slightly unsure if he was doing the right thing, and made his way to the kitchen. He removed the key to the office from under the mug he never used and walked down the hall.

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever lay beyond the door. A sudden thought intruded into his mind. What if Phil is cheating on me? He didn’t think he would be able to handle that. He shook his head. No, Phil loves me–he would never do that to me. It’s probably nothing.

Dan inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door. Nothing struck him as out of place upon his first look around. It was simply a standard office, with a comfortable-looking chair and a large desk with a small plant on it and loose papers strewn across its top. Dan examined the papers and recognized them as some paperwork from the station Phil had taken home to get a head start on; everything seemed in order.

But he had come this far, he couldn’t stop now. He paused, then pulled open the first of the desk’s three drawers. Pens, a notepad, scissors, and some Japanese erasers they had gotten on their honeymoon. Dan smiled fondly at the memory. He moved on to the second drawer. Extra paper and notepads. Nothing strange about being prepared. Finally, he opened the third drawer and found some spare copies of documents and forms they use at work.

Just as Dan was wondering why Phil tried to hide these from him as they were so plain and unassuming, his eye caught sight of a fourth drawer, more of a tray really, directly in front of the black office chair. He drew the chair back and slid the drawer out.

Dan let out an audible gasp. In the drawer was an M9 bayonet. He picked it up to examine it closer, although this didn’t resolve any of his questions, of which he came up with more by the second.

How had he not noticed Phil had this when they moved in? Unless Phil had purposely hid it from him? But for what purpose?

His mind suddenly flashed back to the serial killer case from all those years ago. It couldn’t be, he thought. And yet there was no other solution. He thought about how Phil was always out at the time of the murders, how he kept acting strange at the time, how he had been a suspect and Dan had dismissed the notion because he had always looked at Phil through rose-coloured glasses.

“Holy shit.”

Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him. He spun around, with the bayonet still in his hands and his heart racing, and saw Phil standing in the doorway. He saw Dan holding the bayonet and nodded.

He walked over to Dan, calmly striding closer until their faces were only inches apart, while Dan’s eyes darted quickly between Phil and the weapon. Dan could feel Phil’s breath on his face, his eyes piercing right through Dan’s.

Finally, Phil spoke.