Detective Grey crackfic oneshots

Dancing

...
A record player hummed softly in the middle of the night as he waltzed alone. Arm up, shoulders back, feet leading an invisible man at his front.
Grey watched it all from behind him, he had woken suddenly from a bad dream.

He was in an old target practice room. A white-faced man in a silky black suit steadied Grey's shaking hand and the rifle behind it. Positioned his shoulders for him, gave the nod to shoot. As was procedure. The target was shaped like a torso. He pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times. And then he couldn't stop. Grey sobbed with every release.
Somewhere in between the tenth and fifteenth shot, the target had turned into a bleeding corpse with white, glassy eyes and a watery smile. Grey pulled the gun back in shock, and then the blank-faced man started to scream. It was the yowl of a cat and the tremor of the earth. It was a low buzz and a high shriek. It was a swarm of heavy sounds filling Greys ears and eyes and mouth, until Grey was drowning inside of himself.
...

It was the same dream every night.

Grey got up from his bead and headed to his kitchen to get a glass of water until he saw Robin dancing alone in the middle of the small living room.

Greys sighs. "Robin what are you doing here, it's 1 in the morning." The soft waltz continued playing on the record player as Robin didn't answer Grey's question.

"Join me?"
Grey looked up to find that while the music was still playing, Robin had stopped and was looking at him with a tired smile. This human glimpse into his unguarded character relaxed Grey. He acted with the superiority of a king and the coldness of his assassin, but at the end of the day, he was just as small as the common Detective. Grey smiled back, and the glance they shared was almost sweet.

"I was never much of a dancer..." Grey said, but melted a little under Robins softness. "Just don't laugh."

But they did laugh, as they tripped and stumbled to the poetry of the music. The melody swelled, and Greys moves grew wider, and their laughter faded into soft chuckles as Grey started noticing his own feet, then into quiet. They were two dramatically different people, thought Grey. But right now, they were both a little bit alone and they were both a little bit sad and they were both so fucking tired. And step........

It was morning and If it weren't for the fact that Grey woke up on the couch, curled up against the short criminal he would have wondered if it was all just a dream.