Pairing: David Addison/Maddie Hayes
Fic Title: Synchronized Swimming
Why This Must Be Read: This is a Moonlighting fic, not to be confused with the other rec I just posted a second ago, which was of the vampire show Moonlight. What can I say, I was googleing and struck gold twice? This fic is just priceless. Great banter and laugh out loud lines, and the characterization is pitch perfect. I know we all think of this show as the one that set the trend of "don't let the two main leads hook up or it'll ruin the show" cliche, which eventually is cited as the reason for why a lot of our favored pairings these days never hook up onscreen, but really? I think the RST had absolutely nothing to do with the downfall, and it was all about the show's writing in general that went down hill.
But damn it all to hell: this fic does show how scrumptious their UST banter was.
"Did the front desk clerk say anything about 'no shirt, no shoes, no service..."
"Told her I had bunions. And it helps that I don't care what people think." He shoved a piece of paper at her. "Here, save the receipt for expenses."
It read: Mr Smith and Ms Hayes. "Gee, thanks a lot."
"I suppose this would be a bad time to tell you they only had one room at the inn." At Maddie's noisy sigh, he lowered his tone to plaintive — "I could sleep huddled in the car..." before diving straight into woeful — "...shoeless, a thin, soaked jacket wadded under my weary head for a pillow, but you wouldn't want me to freeze to death, would ya?"
She gave him a look aimed at accomplishing just that.
"Brrrrr!" David affected an exaggerated, full-body shiver. "Look, toots. I'm exhausted and wet, you're wet and angry, it's about to pour and who knows how far it is to the next town?" He fished a key from his pocket and they paused at the threshold as the door to the room squeaked open. "I blame the writers."
Maddie switched on the light. "Wow. Premier accommodations. What is this, a..." she made air quotes "'Super' 8?"
"A... Motel 6?"
"Keep counting down. I believe this lovely and convenient sleeping establishment is known as a '4 Travel'", David said drily, locking the door behind them.
"I give it a two-point-four." Maddie looked balefully at the lone bed with a visible dip in its center. "So you must feel right at home."
"Five's usually my lower limit. Hey, no magic fingers. I demand a refund," David pouted. He took off his suit jacket in one motion and shut the loud, patterned curtains. The hooks on the rod made a deafening, nails-to-the-chalkboard skriiitch. Maddie winced as he fiddled with the heat controls on the unit below the window and when he turned it on, she would have sworn she saw a puff of dust emanate from the vents.
Maddie sniffed. "It smells like cats. Ablaze."
"You know it would be illegal to yell fire in a crowded Broadway theatre."