Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the quaint, somehow drama-filled town of Broadchurch, PC Bob Daniels is a legend. Not because he had climbed the ranks of law enforcement(he had been a Police Constable since forever), but because he was the guy everyone loved to have around. He was practically Broadchurch Police Station’s unofficial mascot: wise, warm and dependable — like the dad you call when you need assistance with basic home maintenance. It’s a pity, of course, that an old injury kept him from promotions, but who needs career advancements when you’re the heart and soul of the station? 

Even the ever-brooding DI Alec Hardy had a soft spot for Bob, not that he’d admit it, though. When Hardy first landed in Broadchurch, grumpy and Scottish as ever, Bob was the first uniform to work with him. They clicked, somehow; Hardy appreciated Bob’s calm, calculated way of dealing with the townspeople, and Bob found Hardy’s blunt, no-nonsense approach refreshing — a sharp contrast to Broadchurch’s cheery vibe. Ever since then, DI Hardy decided that he would not attend to calls that require a uniform unless Bob was busy, which he rarely is, because what could happen in a small town like Broadchurch? We all know what eventually happened, but that’s not the point.

PC Bob Daniels had practically pledged his loyalty to the town and his job(apart from his husband, Harvey). And he loved watching the stories of its people unfold daily — the chaos, the harmony, the tears and the laughter. But the stories Bob deems as favourites will always be those that are closest to home — those of Broadchurch Police’s own Disaster Duo: DI Alec Hardy and DS Ellie Miller.

27 July 2013

He’s tired. 

Everyone had been pulling overtime, both uniforms and detectives alike. Ever since Danny's body was found, uniforms were required to patrol at night, but that night, Bob had pulled Desk Duty. Not that there was anything to complain — he could use the opportunity to catch up on EastEnders.

It was all set up. Phone stand, in position. Earpiece, untangled. WiFi, connected and steady. 

Bob sighed in relief. He’d been dying for this downtime. Just as he plugged the earpiece into his ears, a tall, lanky figure stood across his desk. 

Bob groaned internally. Why me?

Looking up, he was met with the ever-dishevelled DI Hardy. “Sir?”

“Daniels,” Hardy greeted back. “I need help.”

Of course, he did.

28 July 2013

Bob sighed. Again.

“Alright, Bob?” PC Nick Myles asked him, glancing from the passenger seat.

Bob didn’t answer immediately. They were on patrol duty, and it was Bob’s turn to drive. But that wasn’t the reason Bob sighed. It was the sight he saw that caused him to. The sight before Bob was one DI Alec Hardy, in the distance, in the same suit he wore to work(if it was a different one, he couldn’t tell), fighting his way through the harsh, evening coastal breeze.

  “Miller invited me to dinner at her house.”

“Alright, then. Do you need me to come with…?”

“No, no. Just— What do people buy?”

“Buy?”

“To bring over.”

Bob’s answer to Hardy’s question had been wine, chocolates or flowers.

The man was marching against the wind with a bottle of wine, chocolates and flowers. 

Bob shook his head. 

Nick was still confused. 

Bob shrugged it off. He’s just glad that Hardy was finally making friends. Or at least it seemed like it.

29 July 2013

0617hrs

Dear: what’s the name of ur new boss

Bob blinked emptily at the text message he just received. He was used to Harvey asking him the oddest questions at the most random times, but this one was… different. Bob typed in a reply.

Bob: alec hardy. why?

Bob tapped his fingers on the table impatiently.

*ding*

Dear: right person then. he just got admitted. cracked his head open. 

Dear: he’s quite a looker eh

Bob’s eyes widened. He typed in another reply.

Bob: how?

*ding*

Dear: passed out. Becca found him. 

Bob shook his head.

Bob: he must have been really pissed then 

Bob smiled, amused at the idea of a drunk Alec Hardy.

*ding*

Dear: ?

Dear: he was drinking?

Bob: he had dinner with El and her husband over at their house 

*ding*

Dear: love, I don’t think he should be drinking

Bob was used to the gossip Harvey would relay to him. Most times, it's just stories that his nurse husband had exchanged with other fellow nurses. This one, however, was concerning. Then again, Bob thought it was not his business to meddle with. 

Chapter Text

Some time in August 2013

Bob had kept the knowledge of Hardy’s arrhythmia to himself. But that didn’t stop him from sneaking glances to make sure the man was not about to keel over himself. How he hadn’t dropped dead from all his yelling and scowling came as a miracle to Bob.

Still, credit where it was due. Bob couldn’t deny that Hardy was fiercely committed to the Latimer case. Although Bob didn’t get to experience Hardy’s infamous temper too often(CID got the most of it), being a uniformed officer and all, he heard enough. Office gossip at the station spread fast, as news usually does in a small town like Broadchurch.

There was one thing, however, that did rub Bob the wrong way: the DI’s treatment of Ellie. Everyone loved Ellie. She was bright, kind and had the patience of a saint(that, they had to award her ever since she started working with Hardy). But Bob couldn’t shake the feeling that Hardy looked down on her, like she was not as incompetent as he deemed himself to be because of her lack of experience. Sure, Broadchurch wasn’t exactly a big city like Sandbrook was, but Ellie wasn’t stupid and Bob kind of wished that Hardy could get off his high horse.

What made Bob proud, though, was Ellie’s ability to hold her own. She didn’t let Hardy run all over her, and when he was wrong, Ellie had been there to call him out. Then again, there had been days when he’d seen the two get along (fairly)well, and he had hopes that probably Ellie’s warmth had started to melt away the DI’s icy front.

A little birdie from CID had overheard Brian Young from SOCO asking  Ellie out and was turned down instantly by the latter, and decided to share the news with Bob on their way out to get some late-night snacks. Bob was amused, but not surprised. Ellie had her fair share of admirers. Bob kept the gossip to himself and didn’t exactly believe in it himself, but he did notice a change in Hardy’s behaviour whenever Brian was within vicinity ever since.

There had been the occasional chats in front of the station, and Bob noticed how Hardy quietly stood himself in between Ellie and Brian. He also saw how one time Hardy stood broodingly at the balcony of the CID floor, scowling away as he watched Brian come running after Ellie, who went over to the chippies opposite the station. 

Stalkerish? Not really. Nosey? Didn't seem so. Protective? Perhaps. 

Though it warmed Bob inside to know that Hardy did care for Ellie, or at least it seemed to be, and not him just being suspicious of everyone else.

Another night, another desk shift for PC Bob Daniels. It was quiet —the kind of quiet that let him catch up on his shows with probably just a paperwork or two(and maybe some biscuits). But Harvey had been constantly asking about DI Hardy’s well-being. 

*ding*

Dear: did DI Hardy eat today

*ding*

Dear: has DI Hardy gone home yet

*ding*

Dear: did DI Hardy over-exert himself today

Bob had told him not to make a fuss about it and that DI Hardy was carrying himself just fine. Well… fine-ish. He couldn’t really tell if the detective’s pale features were from the ungodly hours of being at work or his heart.  And as if on cue, the Scottish DI came out of the lift and shuffled past.

“Goin’ home, sir?” Bob asked. 

“Aye,” was all the reply he could manage without breaking stride.

Bob shrugged away the plain answer and went back to his paperwork. Just as he was about to put on some music, the familiar lanky figure reappeared at his desk. “Daniels.”

Bob looked up. “Anything I can help, sir?”

“Brian Young, SOCO,” Hardy exhaled exasperatedly and placed a hand to his hip. “Is he married?”

Bob raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Sorry?”

“Is he married?” The man repeated himself.

Bob blinked. “No, sir.”

“Right,” Hardy nodded, as if it was valuable intel and made a turn to walk away. And then he turned back around. “And… uhm… has there been any workplace harassment reported before?”

“Sir?” Bob tilted his head. “No— no, there hasn’t been any.”

“Aye, all right,” Hardy nodded again curtly. “Goodnight, Daniels.”

“Goodnight, sir,” Bob said, smiling to himself although still albeit confused.

Well, at least now he knows that the gossip was probably true. But he was more glad at the fact that Hardy was looking out for Ellie. He puts the paperwork aside for a bit and updated his husband that the boss was on his way home. And then he added a little more about the interaction that preceded it.

Chapter Text

14 September 2013 

Everything was finally out. 

Joe Miller’s confession, the truth behind Hardy's downfall and his heart. 

While the town was sorry for the Latimers, Broadchurch Police Station was looming in guilt, walking on eggshells, feeling sorry for Ellie. No one blamed her, but they all wished they could have saved her. The air in the station had been still, as if everyone was holding their breath, too shocked, at a loss for words. Bob sat at the desk, quietly watching the officers carry themselves solemnly. News like this would have set everyone buzzing, but no one said anything. If it were anything about Hardy, they would have walked together, linked by the arm, complaining about the man. 

But with Joe’s confession, they would never do that to Ellie. Everyone genuinely liked her. Heck. Even Hardy was careful breaking the news to her. It was the most human Bob had ever seen the boss to be. 

And when all hell broke loose in the interview room, Bob felt sorry for Ellie when he had to call in a medical personnel to tend to Joe’s injury. Her cries rang in his ears, her anger shuddered through his body and her eyes — gosh, her eyes — it lost all light of life she used to carry in them. 

Yet, Bob could see that everyone at the station was conflicted, afraid of how to appropriately react to the incident. While the others were criticising Hardy’s decision to let Ellie see her husband, Bob understood that Hardy was showing kindness disguised as pity towards Ellie knowing that there was a storm coming soon to destroy everything she had known to have and love. Bob understood that Hardy, in breaking protocol, was giving Ellie a chance at closure to make sense of whatever there was of what, once to her, was her life left with Joe. Seeing her being pulled away, even the uniformed officers were tense, and there was barely any conversation made. 

With both Hardy and Ellie being suspended, the station was extra silent. Bob decided it was better for him to keep quiet, too. He sighed, packing up as he looked at the time. He didn’t want to stay behind the desk today. Approaching another uniform, PC Richard Laine, Bob drew keys to the patrol car. “C’mon, Richie. Time to go.”

There was going to be a tribute for Danny Latimer, and uniforms were assigned to patrol for traffic and crowd control, but mainly to be on standby just in case anything happened. As they drove, going through the dark, evening roads of the familiar town, they observed the townspeople walking hand in hand as they gathered together. Approaching the pier, Bob and Richard proceeded to cover the ground on foot. Bob’s heart was heavy that the small town he so dearly loved had to face a tribulation like this. But he was also hopeful that they would heal, seeing how everyone had gathered to show their support.

That was until, from afar, Bob saw a figure so bright at the other end of the pier. 

There she was — Ellie Miller and her trademark orange jacket, sitting on a bench separated from the town. And alongside her sat the unmistakable(and official) grumpy face of Broadchurch Police Station. Or the former grumpy face of Broadchurch Police Station. Bob sighed heavily, his chest suffocating, aching from the view of them.

A couple of months back, the two could barely see eye to eye, Bob being witness to plenty of their squabbles on the ground and in the station. But within that short amount of time, Bob saw the progress of their working relationship. Of course, they were total opposites, but they definitely complemented each other. And they were also the only two who put more hours in than anyone else, always being the last few to go home. Yet, there they sat, ostracised by the town despite their efforts. Just the two of them, surrounded by the emptiness of the sea. 

“Is that Ellie?” Richard asked. Bob only nodded in confirmation. “Should we—?” Richard asked again, only to be held back with Bob’s palm to his chest. He was touched by Richard’s consideration to be with them, warmed by the idea that both Hardy and Ellie still had people who cared for them. And although it felt like Bob was turning his own back towards them, he understood that his support would only come off as pity. 

Bob braced his heart.

“Leave them be,” Bob said. “Leave them be.”