AN: Dear Havenites,

This (perfect one-shot, exactly 1000 words, yay me!) started as a closer look at a scene in Episode 3 "Harmony" and morphed into a mildly parallel universe fic based on What if Audrey hadn't had that stungun? wherein Duke and Audrey save one another and have a moment. Of sorts. Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you review (translate this to: PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE REVIEW! I need them to survive...)!

Yours faithfully,

Sable (PS, it's not to be continued)

Discord

Nathan?

Audrey knew the second she saw Nathan that something bad was going to happen. Her gut rolled uncomfortably, and outright revolted with the smell of burning flesh and singed human hair.

Nathan!

She was intent on her partner, ready to spring, aware that she'd never be able to stop him if he bolted and aware that she'd never forgive herself if she let him hurt someone- mostly because he would never forgive himself.

His skin blistered. Audrey swore out loud.

Oh, crap.

And the look in his eyes… it chilled her. This was not Nathan, not at the moment, not since he'd caught whatever virus was sweeping the town.

But he was, somewhere deep down, still the Nathan she knew. The only part of that Nathan currently showing, however, was his bitterness over his lot in life.

Nothin'.

He shoved past her, and she realized with a sickening jolt (that might have had something to do with being bulldozed by her partner), Audrey realized that Nathan didn't have anything holding him back anymore.

He was gone, and she was helpless, and that was a feeling Audrey found distinctively displeasing.

The marina…

She knew. She'd felt it coming, from the first time she'd been with the two of them at once.

Duke and Nathan were on a collision course.

Duke, with his carelessness and his lawlessness and his 'poke the bear with a short, short stick' mentality. Nathan, with his anger and his inability to feel anything and his current uninhibited state. Audrey knew it was going to be bad.

And it was.

She saw them from the dock, and her heart nearly stopped.

Duke was fast and strong, but Nathan was ruthless. Driven out of his mind, his heart pumping adrenaline like no human's ever should, Nathan was unstoppable. And Duke was going to die.

Stungun… left it with the doctor.

"Nathan!" she shouted, grabbing a length of metal pipe that had been laying near the railing.

Well, she wasn't about to use her gun on Nathan.

He spun, dropping Duke in the process. His eyes were wild and flat, and though they saw her, Nathan didn't see Audrey.

He charged. The speed, the force, and the ferocity of his run startled Audrey, who immediately called herself a thousand kinds of idiot as she felt herself fly backwards.

The shock of her spine slamming against the railing was a distant, faraway pain. The look in Nathan's eyes – this is NOT Nathan! – riveted her attention. His hands, one on her neck, one on her shoulder, impressed her.

He followed through with his body slam… five, ten feet? He's stronger than I thought he'd be.

Then his hands were both on her throat, his body pressed close and intimate against hers, hard with muscle and hot with anger. Both hands tightened and he leaned forward. She was forced over backwards, a position that made it nearly impossible to defend herself. Her back was just a few inches away from the angle of no return when he stopped and concentrated his efforts on her throat.

A pop somewhere in her bones caused her to gag. He gave her a violent shake and she raised her hands to claw at his face, but before she could, there was a hollow clank as the metal pipe Audrey had dropped was slammed into the back of her partner's head.

Nathan collapsed and Audrey would have fallen over him had one of Duke's iron-strong arms not wrapped around her and pulled her away. He kept her behind him, with the pipe held out in front of them.

Audrey cringed to see the blood on the end of it.

When Nathan no longer moved, she broke away from Duke, ignoring the way he tried to hold on to her, and knelt to check him.

"He probably has a concussion," she told Duke, coughing when she found her voice rough.

Predictably, the smuggler rose to the defense. "Yeah? Well you'll probably live," he scoffed, poking at Nathan's foot with the pipe.

Audrey sighed and rose from her crouch. "Put that thing down and help me lift him."

After a moment of considered rebellion on Duke's part, they – "Gently!" – wrangled Nathan into a chair. At Duke's insistence, Audrey allowed her partner to be bound and chained, and then allowed herself to undergo a few minutes of Duke nudging and prodding her until he was satisfied that she would, in fact, survive.

He handed her a cup of warm tea, seating himself at her side, closer to Nathan's prone shape than she was, protectively in between.

"I have to go, Duke," she said for the seventh time.

He shook his head. "The world won't stop spinning if you're not rushing out to answer every call, Audrey."

"No, but all of Haven might just implode if I don't try."

Duke looked at her steadily, eyes unwavering. She'd always been just the slightest bit disturbed by those eyes and the way Duke used them. So dark, so intimate, so knowing. It was as if he could see past every façade and performance, and past every stitch of cloth. They were just as intimidating as Nathan's unreadable, apathetic exterior, only in a completely different manner. Audrey Parker was not the type of women to be easily unsettled, but since coming to Haven she'd found two men who could set her off her game.

"You're hurt, Audrey. Nathan's gone crazy. Let someone else handle something for once, yeah?" Duke spoke slowly, as if explaining a particularly difficult concept to a particularly dim child.

Audrey scowled and stood, ignoring the protest in her back that told her Duke was absolutely correct. "Take care of Nathan," she requested, forcing herself to walk with her usual confidant stride.

"Audrey!" Duke called, frustrated, but she was already gone. Turning back to the cop who hated him, Duke's face twisted into a furious scowl. "Somehow," he said petulantly, "I can't help but think that this is all your fault."

-end-