![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Party Time, H50, Steve/Danny, PG
Title: Party Time(Four Times Nobody Noticed It Was a Date, and One Time There Wasn’t Any Doubt, 4/5)
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes/Warnings: Follows Dinner and a Movie; Late Lunch, and Afternoon At The Beach. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
withdiamonds for the lightning quick read-through.
"I'm just saying," Kono sighs, fixing Danny with a how-can-you-be-so-dense? look. "You need to get out more." She expands the look to include Steve and Chin, too, which Danny absolutely agrees with--they're both at least as bad as he is--but she keeps talking to him, which he finds distinctly unfair. "I mean, when was the last time you did anything that qualifies as social?"
"Um?" Danny leans back in the booth and looks pointedly at the beer in front of him and then around the table, Steve next to him in the circular booth, Kono and Chin and Mary across from them. There are people, and there's booze on the table; it counts as social. Steve's shaking his head before Danny even finishes the thought and Kono sighs.
"A couple of beers after work with the same people you see all day doesn't count," Mary tells him. "Kono's talking nightlife--places to go, people to see."
"It's a Tuesday," Danny says. It's weak, but it's the best he's got at the moment. Chin looks at him with something close to pity in his eyes and Steve is enjoying the whole thing way too fucking much.
"It's Waikiki," Kono answers. "There are five clubs on this block alone."
"Well, you know...I'm not a club person," Danny says. "Really. Not into clubs."
"Really," Steve agrees, shaking his head. "He's not." He's got that sincere look that Danny knows is nothing but the purest form of BS. Kono knows it, too, and Mary probably was sick of it before she ever left home. "Look at the tie."
"Give it a rest, man," Danny mutters. Steve gives him a ghost of a smirk, which means that he's ready to throw Danny to the she-wolves at the table, no surprise there. "You know, I'm more a couple-of-beers-with-the-guys kind of a guy. Neighborhood bar, a little classic rock on the jukebox, maybe some pool..."
"Nothing wrong with that," Chin says, and Danny likes Chin, always has. He's a good guy, going for the deflection like that. It's just too bad Kono is relentless. It's good in a cop; bad in a situation like this.
"And the last time you did that was...?" Kono points at Danny with her beer. "That's what I thought," she says, when Danny can't answer. Well, he could but it's never a good idea to start lying to your team. Having proved her point, she at least she shifts her attention to Steve. "And you, boss?"
"Hey," Steve says. "What about Chin--he's family. You have a moral obligation to hassle him."
"I already know he hasn't gone anywhere for months." Kono dismisses him with a wave. "I see him off-hours; I can deal with him then." Chin sighs and looks like he's in pain. "We're talking about you."
"I..." Steve says, and Danny already knows whatever he's going to say is doomed to failure, but it's not in Steve's make-up not to at least try. "I've been on... dates. Recently."
"Dates? Really--that's what you call them?" Mary arches an eyebrow and smiles with what Danny recognizes as the joy of a little sister who knows the dirt and is going to savor spilling it. Steve recognizes it, too, and there's some intense sibling communication of the wordless kind going on before Mary settles back with a smirk that matches Steve's best. "It's an interesting definition of the word."
"There's more to life than work," Kono says. "That's all I'm saying. Have you even been to a movie lately?"
"I'm guessing The Tooth Fairy doesn't count," Danny mumbles. Chin winces. It should count, Danny thinks. The Rock was in it, but, yeah, no.
"Weak, Danno," Steve says. "Very, very weak."
"Oh, screw you, man," Danny says. "What was the last movie your workaholic ass went to?"
"This should be good," Mary says, smiling sweetly at Steve.
"I've been out of the country," Steve says. "And the house needs work. And--"
Kono dismisses him with another wave of her hand. "Lame," she says to Mary.
"You have no idea," Mary answers.
"And neither would you--" Steve starts.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Mary says, and her smile is pure evil now. "You know, I bet I still know what movie you've seen most often."
"Do tell," Danny says, as Steve eyes her with what Danny would call panic if he really wanted to be a jerk about it.
"Mary--"
"Oh, no, man." Danny grabs Steve as he leans across the table, two hundred pounds of solid muscle intent on keeping Danny from finding out what has to be awesome blackmail material. Steve keeps going for a second, but Danny hangs on. "Go, go," Danny says to Mary.
"Okay, so first, you have to understand that my big brother is the laziest guy in the world when it comes to women," Mary says. Steve throws himself back against the booth, and Danny knows it's unhealthy, how much entertainment he gets from watching Steve McGarrett sulk, but life just is what it is sometimes.
"Do we actually have to have this discussion with me present?" Steve asks.
"Yes," everyone answers, in chorus.
"Oh, I like you people," Mary says, clinking her martini glass against Kono's beer bottle. "I mean, I guess he's okay-looking, even back in high school with the aloha shirts and all, and the whole quarterback thing didn't hurt--"
"It never does," Chin says. He and Steve bump fists, identical smirks in place. Danny shakes his head. Quarterbacks. Gloryhounds, all of them.
"But there I was, this lowly underclassman, and all these senior girls wanted to be my best friend..."
"Like you didn't work that angle for everything you could get," Steve says.
"You have to work with what you have," Mary answers. "Anyway, my point is, he didn't really have to work at girls, but he took it to new heights. Every single girl, same date: teri burgers from W & M, Sleepless in Seattle on tape, and a walk"--she makes air quotes--"on the beach. Every. Single. Date."
"Meg," Danny says, nodding. "Very classic."
"It was my go-to play." Steve shrugs. "Scored every time."
Mary makes a gagging sound and Danny rolls his eyes. Again with the quarterbacks.
"He fell asleep once and I got him started and he practically recited the whole movie." Mary grins. "He did different voices and everything. I got it on videotape; I'll be it's still around somewhere."
"We could convert it to digital," Chin says. "For posterity."
"Thank you," Steve says. "Encouragement is exactly what she needs."
"I'm right, though, aren't I?" Mary asks. "There's no way you've ever seen another movie more than that. Even you have to let things go occasionally."
"That's nothing but an ugly rumor," Danny says. "Mr. Single Track Brain here never lets anything go--"
"God, enough, alright?" Steve holds up his hands in surrender, and Danny high-fives Mary.
"As entertaining as this has been--and that's so much more than I ever expected, I do actually have plans tonight." Kono stands up, digging in her pocket for cash, and shooting Danny one of those I-will-kill-you-where-you-sit looks when he tries to tell her he's got it covered.
"It's a Tuesday," Danny says. "What kind of a lame party is on a Tuesday?"
"It's North Shore time," Kono answers. "Every night is party night."
"Not lame at all, brah," Chin says. "They have to do something while they wait for the big waves."
"You should come," Kono says, and Danny isn't at all excited about the speculative look in her eyes, like she's ready to drag him kicking and screaming into liking life on the islands. "All of you."
"Not a club guy, remember?"
"This is good tonight--it's the Woodshed guys," she adds, looking at Chin. "Real watermen, not the wannabes."
"They do know how to throw a party," Chin says. "No glitz, just the good stuff." He shrugs at Danny's inquiring look. "Somebody had to keep an eye on her when she was underage. Back then, her father still thought I was good enough--"
"Ancient history, cuz," Kono cuts him off smoothly. "We're talking tonight, and I don't need an escort with a license to carry these days. You up for it anyway?
"Sure," Chin answers, after a few seconds. "Why not?"
"What about you?" Kono asks Mary.
"I have a date tonight," Mary says. "With someone who will probably turn out to be horrified every time I open my mouth, but it is a date. That counts for something."
"I'll agree with that," Kono says, turning back to Danny and Steve, and time, her expression is... calculating. Danny would say it's ruthless, except he needs something to call it when there's a gun in front of it. "Which leaves the two of you..."
She smiles at them, and Steve smiles back and that's never a good sign.
"What do you say, Danno?" Steve says. "I'm game if you are."
"What do I say?" Danny sighs. "I say I need to work on you and this insane need you have to never back down when somebody throws a challenge your way."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Mary says, as she stands up.
"Come on," Steve says, dropping a couple of bills on the table and giving Kono the I-don't-care-if-you-don't-like-it-I'm-paying-for-it-anyway look. "I'll even drive."
"Oh, like that's supposed to make things better?" Danny's going to regret this, he knows it, but it's not like he's got big plans for the rest of the night. Or, y'know, any plans. "All right, all right, I'm in."
"Good. Lose the tie," Steve says, and seriously, Danny thinks. What was he thinking?
***
Grace calls Danny's cell while Steve's still getting them out of Honolulu traffic, but Danny doesn't think he's distracted enough to have missed any new entries in the Steve McGarrett Insane Driving Hall of Fame. In fact, Danny doesn't think he's so much as blinked at anything, which is possibly the first time in the history of ever that's happened. He decides to take it as a sign that he's not going to completely hate the rest of the night.
As soon as Grace hears Danny's in the car with Steve, she wants to talk to him, for reasons that are private, Daddy. Danny rolls his eyes, but passes the phone over to Steve, who offers nothing but singularly unhelpful grunts and the occasional yep, probably just to annoy Danny. He hands the phone back so Danny can say good night, and there's enough light left in the sky that Danny can see the little smirk he's wearing like a badge of honor.
"You know I still have veto power over any plans the two of you cook up, right?"
"Relax, Danno," Steve says. "She wanted to go up to Waimea Bay and jump off the rocks, but she knew it wasn't going to fly with you and was just checking to make sure it wasn't going to fly with me either." He slants Danny a look, like he's checking to make sure Danny hasn't had a stroke. "Which, by the way, it won't."
"Jeez," Danny says. "You're turning down an opportunity to freak me out? You sure that last tango with the meth-head didn't rattle your brains around too much, McGarrett?"
"Eh," Steve says. "It's too rough to do what she wants right now; I figure by next summer, when it gets flat again, you'll have chilled some and we'll make a day of it."
Danny can't help laughing at how completely Grace has Steve wrapped up; from the way Steve shakes his head, Steve knows it, too. He doesn't look too torn up about it, though, which is... good, on a level Danny's not sure he's entirely processed, other than it's cool that his partner and his kid are buddies enough to be ganging up on him.
It's almost full night outside the cab of the truck, and they're apparently driving across the entire island because Steve's blasting north along Kamehameha Highway like he's not stopping any time soon. There's some music playing low on the stereo, which is weird enough, because Steve generally likes to drive in silence, to keep his focus or whatever. Not only is there music, but it sounds half-decent; Danny leans over to turn it up, just to verify the anomaly.
"Vedder? For real?" Danny pops the CD out and reads the handwritten tracks. "Plus, we've got the Waterboys, the Hives, Screamin' Jay Hawkins... This is actual music--what the hell's gotten into you?"
"What? I can't have good taste in music?"
"In a word? No."
"Kono left it the last time she rode out to the house," Steve admits.
"Well, that answers where the cool-factor came from," Danny says, sliding the CD back in and kicking back a little, watching the headlights of the truck pick up the road as it twists north through the valley. "I was startin' to worry that they'd replaced you with a pod person."
"Coming from a guy who worships at the altar of Springsteen, I'm gonna take that as a compliment."
"Hey, hey, watch the chatter about the Boss," Danny says, and it's almost like a normal conversation, shooting the breeze about music and concerts and shows. Steve has the address to wherever the hell it is they're going plugged into the GPS, so it's a relatively uneventful trip, even though they end up at somebody's house, spilling out onto the beach. Kono's there, which at least verifies that they're at the right place, and she's only a little bit smug when Danny tells her she was right, it's a great party.
He loses track of Steve about 10 minutes in, but finds Chin talking to a guy who turns out to be a former world champion, and another guy who apparently owned the break at Pipeline before there was such a thing as a world championship of surfing, and a tiny woman who doesn't surf, but snowboards at some level that Danny doesn't even want to think about.
"You look a little shell-shocked there, Danno," Steve murmurs, appearing out of nowhere in full ninja mode. He hands over a beer, though, so Danny doesn't bitch at him about scaring the crap out of people.
"Just trying to figure out how a nice Jersey boy ends up talking to somebody people actually call Mr. Pipeline," Danny says, shaking his head.
"It's Hawaii," Steve says, like that's supposed to explain things, then nods at the the big, open plan room on the other side of the half-wall. "C'mon--there's a pool table waiting for us. Nineball," he adds. "If you're up for it."
"Oh, you are so schooled, bitch," Danny says, giving him a push toward the door. Steve grins back over his shoulder at Danny, a grin that lasts until Danny sinks the nine on his first break and goes up 1-0. He gets serious after that, competitive freak that he is, but it's not like Danny's backing down any either. The crowd eddies and swirls around them; at one point, Danny looks up from watching Steve work the angles on the all-but-impossible shot Danny's left for him to find Kono leaning against the wall, shaking her head at them.
"Hey," Danny says. "Don't look at me in that tone of voice--this was your bright idea, remember?"
"Trust me, I can't wait to remind myself of that when I'm hearing the tenth replay of this tomorrow," she says, before she heads off with a guy whose skin is deeply tanned in between the ink, someone who's definitely somebody from the way people flock toward him. Danny's pretty sure he sees a second guy with them, too, but he's not touching that topic with the proverbial ten-foot pole. Chin disappears with the snowboarding girl, which leaves Danny and Steve and the death match currently in progress. With the way they're trading games, Danny figures they'll be there all night, which is not something he actually minds, not when he stops to think about it.
Steve surprises the hell out of him, though, letting go of what Danny knows is a bone-deep need to win to call the whole match a draw at 15-15 and give up the table to the next group. Well, he actually calls the match suspended and says he'll finish with Danny at a later date, but hey, semantics.
"Outside?" Steve says. "Can't hear myself think in here."
The crowd's gotten bigger--and noisier--while they've been playing; getting through the rooms is an exercise in ducking people talking with their hands and trying not to end up with a drink flying. Danny smiles and nods and slides between a couple dozen hook-ups in the making, Steve pressed up solid behind him, as though he's drafting off Danny's wake. They get about halfway through the great room when somebody latches on to Steve, holding him up long enough that Danny's four steps ahead of him before he can stop. He catches Steve's eye and nods toward the door, rolling his own eyes when Steve throws him a ghost of a smirk over the head of the very nice, if very drunk, young lady who is apparently transfixed by the tattoos on Steve's biceps, to the point of tracing over the pattern with an expensively manicured fingernail.
"That's, like, so gorgeous," Danny hears her say. "Where did you have it done?"
"Chinhae," Steve says, with what Danny's taken to calling Charming Smile #3, the one Steve uses when he just wants to get his own way. It never reaches his eyes, but Danny doesn't think Little Miss Clingy is in any shape to notice. "Korea--"
Danny makes to the door, finally, thankfully missing the rest of the mysterious world traveler speech that always reels in the chicks. He wonders how she could possibly have time to investigate all the ink on display in the room inside, but that sounds bitchy even in his own head, so he lets it go and heads outside, promptly running smack into a woman who's standing on the edge of the lana'i, head tipped back to look at the sky.
"Sorry, sorry," Danny says, catching her before she goes down. "Completely my fault; I wasn't looking where I was going--"
"Oh, I'm fine," she answers, a little breathless. "And please don't take this the wrong way, but you're not from around here, are you?"
"What gave me away?" Danny sets her back on her feet and smiles at her laugh. It's a nice laugh, quiet but sincere. "I mean, I left my tie in the truck and everything."
"I hear your voice and I'm right back on the boardwalk," she says.
"I'm more a clubs-at-Asbury-Park guy, but close enough," Danny says, and introduces himself. Her name is Carolyn, and it turns out that she's originally from Paramus, in Hawaii by way of a doctorate at Cal Tech and a fellowship at the telescope on the Big Island that includes some guest lectures at the university in Honolulu.
"I have no idea what I'm doing here," she says, motioning to house behind them and the waves breaking under the moonlight in front of them. "It's not exactly how I usually spend my nights, but it's my last week in the islands and one of the grad students had an invitation, and… the next thing I know, here I am, trying desperately not to let anyone know I don't even swim, much less surf."
Danny laughs and gives her his version of kidnapped-by-coworkers story, and realizes, somewhere in the middle of it all, that she's flirting with him, and he's flirting back, and it's been a long time since that's happened.
She's right in the middle of showing him how to find the Southern Cross--she's a little horrified that he's lived here for a year and has no idea where it is, but sounds understanding when he admits it's too damn freaky to look up in the sky and not actually recognize anything--when Steve comes stalking out of the house and announces they need to head back to Honolulu.
"My partner," Danny says, with a sigh. "Mr. Congeniality." He digs in his pockets and finds a card, and manages to suggest that maybe they can have coffee or something if she has time before she heads back to the mainland, all without sounding like too much of a divorced, out-of-practice-with-dating moron, all of which he is.
Steve is actually in the truck, engine running by the time Danny gets there; he throws the transmission in gear and pulls out without a word.
"Do I even want to know what your problem is now?" Danny asks, and gets nothing but a grunt in reply, which is about what he expects. He could push it, or he could outwait the stubborn bastard, both of which have their advantages, but it's been a long day, and he's not really in the mood for the yelling match that pushing it will inevitably bring on. He closes his eyes and leans his head back and lets the hum of the tires on the pavement lull him into a doze. It's the right call, Danny thinks, as Steve slowly relaxes next to him.
They're past Pearl City and Halawa, looping around Hickam when Danny's phone chimes with an incoming text. Not being pushy or anything, just making sure you have my number, too, it reads; Danny grins and texts back, I like the way you think.
"Grace?" Steve asks, and he's all wound up again.
"No, no, no," Danny answers, and he probably looks like an idiot, grinning like he's a kid scoring his first phone number, but what the hell. "You, my friend, were not the only one to have had a close encounter with a lovely lady this evening, and with any luck there will be more encountering happening."
Steve doesn't say anything, not until they're into the suburbs, and then he says, so quietly Danny can barely hear him, "Lose her number, Danno."
Danny can't help it; he stares at Steve for a full ten seconds before he can find his voice. "Are you actively insane or am I hearing things?"
They're in the city now; there's enough light that he can see Steve's jaw tighten.
"You heard me," Steve says, flicking a glance at Danny and going back to driving with complete concentration, which is such utter bullshit Danny can barely see straight. "Lose her number."
"Seriously, man--what the hell? Not all of us have a Lieutenant Catherine waiting in the wings--and just for the record, most of us don't walk through a room and get groped--"
"Fuck that, Danny. This isn't about--"
"No, you fuck that, and you're right, this isn't about Steve McGarrett, Superstud, it's about an attractive, intelligent woman, to whom I gave my number, offering me hers. How that's a problem is beyond me but--"
"You know what? Forget it, okay?" Steve slams around a corner, barely slowing at all. "You're right; it's not a problem."
"Hell, no," Danny answers, bracing one hand on the roof of the cab automatically. "You don't get to play that game."
"Drop it."
"Yeah, like that's going to happen, McGarrett." Danny glares across the cab, and the way Steve won't even look at him is like gasoline on a fire. "Give me one good reason I should lose her number."
"We're here," Steve says, pulling into the parking lot at Danny's apartment and all but standing on the brakes. "Conversation over; see you in the morning."
"I don't think so," Danny says. "One good reason."
"Get out of my truck."
"One. Good. Reason," Danny grits out, and he's beyond the point where he cares about whatever the actual reason might be and so far into the battle of wills this partnership has always been that there's nothing beyond the cab of the truck and the two of them in it.
"Danny," Steve says, back to the almost inaudible voice. "Let it go." He finally turns his head and looks at Danny, and for a second, there's so much in his eyes Danny can't look away. It's there and gone in a flash, too short for Steve to have intended for Danny to see it, much less understand it, except Danny's somehow gotten crazy-good at reading everything about Steve McGarrett. "Please."
"No," Danny answers, equally as quiet. It might be the first time Steve's ever actually asked him to do something, not just assumed or yelled or demanded, but every single instinct Danny has is telling him to sit tight. "Not this time."
"Fuck," Steve chokes out, and Danny hears him break, has a split-second to figure out what's coming before Steve's reaching for Danny, pulling him across the seat and into a hard kiss, hot and hungry and so fucking desperate Danny almost drowns in it, almost goes under from the sheer rush of having all that under his hands. Steve backs off nearly as quickly as he'd moved in, nothing in his eyes but the thousand-yard stare that makes Danny crazy in the best of times.
"Danno," Steve whispers. Danny can hear him breathing in quick, sharp pants even over the blood pounding hard in his own veins, but they're back to Square One, Steve not looking at him. Danny needs to be sure about this, needs to be one hundred percent behind it or there won't be a chance in hell of either one of them making it through in one piece, so he nods once and slides out of the truck.
Steve doesn't move for a long few seconds after Danny slams the door, but finally puts the truck in reverse and backs out of the lot. Danny stays where he's standing until he can't see the taillights any longer, stays there for a long time after, in case Steve changes his mind, and then drags himself up to his crappy apartment and tries to figure out what the hell is supposed to happen next.
***
***
...and finished in Real Deal
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes/Warnings: Follows Dinner and a Movie; Late Lunch, and Afternoon At The Beach. Thanks to
withdiamonds for the lightning quick read-through."I'm just saying," Kono sighs, fixing Danny with a how-can-you-be-so-dense? look. "You need to get out more." She expands the look to include Steve and Chin, too, which Danny absolutely agrees with--they're both at least as bad as he is--but she keeps talking to him, which he finds distinctly unfair. "I mean, when was the last time you did anything that qualifies as social?"
"Um?" Danny leans back in the booth and looks pointedly at the beer in front of him and then around the table, Steve next to him in the circular booth, Kono and Chin and Mary across from them. There are people, and there's booze on the table; it counts as social. Steve's shaking his head before Danny even finishes the thought and Kono sighs.
"A couple of beers after work with the same people you see all day doesn't count," Mary tells him. "Kono's talking nightlife--places to go, people to see."
"It's a Tuesday," Danny says. It's weak, but it's the best he's got at the moment. Chin looks at him with something close to pity in his eyes and Steve is enjoying the whole thing way too fucking much.
"It's Waikiki," Kono answers. "There are five clubs on this block alone."
"Well, you know...I'm not a club person," Danny says. "Really. Not into clubs."
"Really," Steve agrees, shaking his head. "He's not." He's got that sincere look that Danny knows is nothing but the purest form of BS. Kono knows it, too, and Mary probably was sick of it before she ever left home. "Look at the tie."
"Give it a rest, man," Danny mutters. Steve gives him a ghost of a smirk, which means that he's ready to throw Danny to the she-wolves at the table, no surprise there. "You know, I'm more a couple-of-beers-with-the-guys kind of a guy. Neighborhood bar, a little classic rock on the jukebox, maybe some pool..."
"Nothing wrong with that," Chin says, and Danny likes Chin, always has. He's a good guy, going for the deflection like that. It's just too bad Kono is relentless. It's good in a cop; bad in a situation like this.
"And the last time you did that was...?" Kono points at Danny with her beer. "That's what I thought," she says, when Danny can't answer. Well, he could but it's never a good idea to start lying to your team. Having proved her point, she at least she shifts her attention to Steve. "And you, boss?"
"Hey," Steve says. "What about Chin--he's family. You have a moral obligation to hassle him."
"I already know he hasn't gone anywhere for months." Kono dismisses him with a wave. "I see him off-hours; I can deal with him then." Chin sighs and looks like he's in pain. "We're talking about you."
"I..." Steve says, and Danny already knows whatever he's going to say is doomed to failure, but it's not in Steve's make-up not to at least try. "I've been on... dates. Recently."
"Dates? Really--that's what you call them?" Mary arches an eyebrow and smiles with what Danny recognizes as the joy of a little sister who knows the dirt and is going to savor spilling it. Steve recognizes it, too, and there's some intense sibling communication of the wordless kind going on before Mary settles back with a smirk that matches Steve's best. "It's an interesting definition of the word."
"There's more to life than work," Kono says. "That's all I'm saying. Have you even been to a movie lately?"
"I'm guessing The Tooth Fairy doesn't count," Danny mumbles. Chin winces. It should count, Danny thinks. The Rock was in it, but, yeah, no.
"Weak, Danno," Steve says. "Very, very weak."
"Oh, screw you, man," Danny says. "What was the last movie your workaholic ass went to?"
"This should be good," Mary says, smiling sweetly at Steve.
"I've been out of the country," Steve says. "And the house needs work. And--"
Kono dismisses him with another wave of her hand. "Lame," she says to Mary.
"You have no idea," Mary answers.
"And neither would you--" Steve starts.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Mary says, and her smile is pure evil now. "You know, I bet I still know what movie you've seen most often."
"Do tell," Danny says, as Steve eyes her with what Danny would call panic if he really wanted to be a jerk about it.
"Mary--"
"Oh, no, man." Danny grabs Steve as he leans across the table, two hundred pounds of solid muscle intent on keeping Danny from finding out what has to be awesome blackmail material. Steve keeps going for a second, but Danny hangs on. "Go, go," Danny says to Mary.
"Okay, so first, you have to understand that my big brother is the laziest guy in the world when it comes to women," Mary says. Steve throws himself back against the booth, and Danny knows it's unhealthy, how much entertainment he gets from watching Steve McGarrett sulk, but life just is what it is sometimes.
"Do we actually have to have this discussion with me present?" Steve asks.
"Yes," everyone answers, in chorus.
"Oh, I like you people," Mary says, clinking her martini glass against Kono's beer bottle. "I mean, I guess he's okay-looking, even back in high school with the aloha shirts and all, and the whole quarterback thing didn't hurt--"
"It never does," Chin says. He and Steve bump fists, identical smirks in place. Danny shakes his head. Quarterbacks. Gloryhounds, all of them.
"But there I was, this lowly underclassman, and all these senior girls wanted to be my best friend..."
"Like you didn't work that angle for everything you could get," Steve says.
"You have to work with what you have," Mary answers. "Anyway, my point is, he didn't really have to work at girls, but he took it to new heights. Every single girl, same date: teri burgers from W & M, Sleepless in Seattle on tape, and a walk"--she makes air quotes--"on the beach. Every. Single. Date."
"Meg," Danny says, nodding. "Very classic."
"It was my go-to play." Steve shrugs. "Scored every time."
Mary makes a gagging sound and Danny rolls his eyes. Again with the quarterbacks.
"He fell asleep once and I got him started and he practically recited the whole movie." Mary grins. "He did different voices and everything. I got it on videotape; I'll be it's still around somewhere."
"We could convert it to digital," Chin says. "For posterity."
"Thank you," Steve says. "Encouragement is exactly what she needs."
"I'm right, though, aren't I?" Mary asks. "There's no way you've ever seen another movie more than that. Even you have to let things go occasionally."
"That's nothing but an ugly rumor," Danny says. "Mr. Single Track Brain here never lets anything go--"
"God, enough, alright?" Steve holds up his hands in surrender, and Danny high-fives Mary.
"As entertaining as this has been--and that's so much more than I ever expected, I do actually have plans tonight." Kono stands up, digging in her pocket for cash, and shooting Danny one of those I-will-kill-you-where-you-sit looks when he tries to tell her he's got it covered.
"It's a Tuesday," Danny says. "What kind of a lame party is on a Tuesday?"
"It's North Shore time," Kono answers. "Every night is party night."
"Not lame at all, brah," Chin says. "They have to do something while they wait for the big waves."
"You should come," Kono says, and Danny isn't at all excited about the speculative look in her eyes, like she's ready to drag him kicking and screaming into liking life on the islands. "All of you."
"Not a club guy, remember?"
"This is good tonight--it's the Woodshed guys," she adds, looking at Chin. "Real watermen, not the wannabes."
"They do know how to throw a party," Chin says. "No glitz, just the good stuff." He shrugs at Danny's inquiring look. "Somebody had to keep an eye on her when she was underage. Back then, her father still thought I was good enough--"
"Ancient history, cuz," Kono cuts him off smoothly. "We're talking tonight, and I don't need an escort with a license to carry these days. You up for it anyway?
"Sure," Chin answers, after a few seconds. "Why not?"
"What about you?" Kono asks Mary.
"I have a date tonight," Mary says. "With someone who will probably turn out to be horrified every time I open my mouth, but it is a date. That counts for something."
"I'll agree with that," Kono says, turning back to Danny and Steve, and time, her expression is... calculating. Danny would say it's ruthless, except he needs something to call it when there's a gun in front of it. "Which leaves the two of you..."
She smiles at them, and Steve smiles back and that's never a good sign.
"What do you say, Danno?" Steve says. "I'm game if you are."
"What do I say?" Danny sighs. "I say I need to work on you and this insane need you have to never back down when somebody throws a challenge your way."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Mary says, as she stands up.
"Come on," Steve says, dropping a couple of bills on the table and giving Kono the I-don't-care-if-you-don't-like-it-I'm-paying-for-it-anyway look. "I'll even drive."
"Oh, like that's supposed to make things better?" Danny's going to regret this, he knows it, but it's not like he's got big plans for the rest of the night. Or, y'know, any plans. "All right, all right, I'm in."
"Good. Lose the tie," Steve says, and seriously, Danny thinks. What was he thinking?
Grace calls Danny's cell while Steve's still getting them out of Honolulu traffic, but Danny doesn't think he's distracted enough to have missed any new entries in the Steve McGarrett Insane Driving Hall of Fame. In fact, Danny doesn't think he's so much as blinked at anything, which is possibly the first time in the history of ever that's happened. He decides to take it as a sign that he's not going to completely hate the rest of the night.
As soon as Grace hears Danny's in the car with Steve, she wants to talk to him, for reasons that are private, Daddy. Danny rolls his eyes, but passes the phone over to Steve, who offers nothing but singularly unhelpful grunts and the occasional yep, probably just to annoy Danny. He hands the phone back so Danny can say good night, and there's enough light left in the sky that Danny can see the little smirk he's wearing like a badge of honor.
"You know I still have veto power over any plans the two of you cook up, right?"
"Relax, Danno," Steve says. "She wanted to go up to Waimea Bay and jump off the rocks, but she knew it wasn't going to fly with you and was just checking to make sure it wasn't going to fly with me either." He slants Danny a look, like he's checking to make sure Danny hasn't had a stroke. "Which, by the way, it won't."
"Jeez," Danny says. "You're turning down an opportunity to freak me out? You sure that last tango with the meth-head didn't rattle your brains around too much, McGarrett?"
"Eh," Steve says. "It's too rough to do what she wants right now; I figure by next summer, when it gets flat again, you'll have chilled some and we'll make a day of it."
Danny can't help laughing at how completely Grace has Steve wrapped up; from the way Steve shakes his head, Steve knows it, too. He doesn't look too torn up about it, though, which is... good, on a level Danny's not sure he's entirely processed, other than it's cool that his partner and his kid are buddies enough to be ganging up on him.
It's almost full night outside the cab of the truck, and they're apparently driving across the entire island because Steve's blasting north along Kamehameha Highway like he's not stopping any time soon. There's some music playing low on the stereo, which is weird enough, because Steve generally likes to drive in silence, to keep his focus or whatever. Not only is there music, but it sounds half-decent; Danny leans over to turn it up, just to verify the anomaly.
"Vedder? For real?" Danny pops the CD out and reads the handwritten tracks. "Plus, we've got the Waterboys, the Hives, Screamin' Jay Hawkins... This is actual music--what the hell's gotten into you?"
"What? I can't have good taste in music?"
"In a word? No."
"Kono left it the last time she rode out to the house," Steve admits.
"Well, that answers where the cool-factor came from," Danny says, sliding the CD back in and kicking back a little, watching the headlights of the truck pick up the road as it twists north through the valley. "I was startin' to worry that they'd replaced you with a pod person."
"Coming from a guy who worships at the altar of Springsteen, I'm gonna take that as a compliment."
"Hey, hey, watch the chatter about the Boss," Danny says, and it's almost like a normal conversation, shooting the breeze about music and concerts and shows. Steve has the address to wherever the hell it is they're going plugged into the GPS, so it's a relatively uneventful trip, even though they end up at somebody's house, spilling out onto the beach. Kono's there, which at least verifies that they're at the right place, and she's only a little bit smug when Danny tells her she was right, it's a great party.
He loses track of Steve about 10 minutes in, but finds Chin talking to a guy who turns out to be a former world champion, and another guy who apparently owned the break at Pipeline before there was such a thing as a world championship of surfing, and a tiny woman who doesn't surf, but snowboards at some level that Danny doesn't even want to think about.
"You look a little shell-shocked there, Danno," Steve murmurs, appearing out of nowhere in full ninja mode. He hands over a beer, though, so Danny doesn't bitch at him about scaring the crap out of people.
"Just trying to figure out how a nice Jersey boy ends up talking to somebody people actually call Mr. Pipeline," Danny says, shaking his head.
"It's Hawaii," Steve says, like that's supposed to explain things, then nods at the the big, open plan room on the other side of the half-wall. "C'mon--there's a pool table waiting for us. Nineball," he adds. "If you're up for it."
"Oh, you are so schooled, bitch," Danny says, giving him a push toward the door. Steve grins back over his shoulder at Danny, a grin that lasts until Danny sinks the nine on his first break and goes up 1-0. He gets serious after that, competitive freak that he is, but it's not like Danny's backing down any either. The crowd eddies and swirls around them; at one point, Danny looks up from watching Steve work the angles on the all-but-impossible shot Danny's left for him to find Kono leaning against the wall, shaking her head at them.
"Hey," Danny says. "Don't look at me in that tone of voice--this was your bright idea, remember?"
"Trust me, I can't wait to remind myself of that when I'm hearing the tenth replay of this tomorrow," she says, before she heads off with a guy whose skin is deeply tanned in between the ink, someone who's definitely somebody from the way people flock toward him. Danny's pretty sure he sees a second guy with them, too, but he's not touching that topic with the proverbial ten-foot pole. Chin disappears with the snowboarding girl, which leaves Danny and Steve and the death match currently in progress. With the way they're trading games, Danny figures they'll be there all night, which is not something he actually minds, not when he stops to think about it.
Steve surprises the hell out of him, though, letting go of what Danny knows is a bone-deep need to win to call the whole match a draw at 15-15 and give up the table to the next group. Well, he actually calls the match suspended and says he'll finish with Danny at a later date, but hey, semantics.
"Outside?" Steve says. "Can't hear myself think in here."
The crowd's gotten bigger--and noisier--while they've been playing; getting through the rooms is an exercise in ducking people talking with their hands and trying not to end up with a drink flying. Danny smiles and nods and slides between a couple dozen hook-ups in the making, Steve pressed up solid behind him, as though he's drafting off Danny's wake. They get about halfway through the great room when somebody latches on to Steve, holding him up long enough that Danny's four steps ahead of him before he can stop. He catches Steve's eye and nods toward the door, rolling his own eyes when Steve throws him a ghost of a smirk over the head of the very nice, if very drunk, young lady who is apparently transfixed by the tattoos on Steve's biceps, to the point of tracing over the pattern with an expensively manicured fingernail.
"That's, like, so gorgeous," Danny hears her say. "Where did you have it done?"
"Chinhae," Steve says, with what Danny's taken to calling Charming Smile #3, the one Steve uses when he just wants to get his own way. It never reaches his eyes, but Danny doesn't think Little Miss Clingy is in any shape to notice. "Korea--"
Danny makes to the door, finally, thankfully missing the rest of the mysterious world traveler speech that always reels in the chicks. He wonders how she could possibly have time to investigate all the ink on display in the room inside, but that sounds bitchy even in his own head, so he lets it go and heads outside, promptly running smack into a woman who's standing on the edge of the lana'i, head tipped back to look at the sky.
"Sorry, sorry," Danny says, catching her before she goes down. "Completely my fault; I wasn't looking where I was going--"
"Oh, I'm fine," she answers, a little breathless. "And please don't take this the wrong way, but you're not from around here, are you?"
"What gave me away?" Danny sets her back on her feet and smiles at her laugh. It's a nice laugh, quiet but sincere. "I mean, I left my tie in the truck and everything."
"I hear your voice and I'm right back on the boardwalk," she says.
"I'm more a clubs-at-Asbury-Park guy, but close enough," Danny says, and introduces himself. Her name is Carolyn, and it turns out that she's originally from Paramus, in Hawaii by way of a doctorate at Cal Tech and a fellowship at the telescope on the Big Island that includes some guest lectures at the university in Honolulu.
"I have no idea what I'm doing here," she says, motioning to house behind them and the waves breaking under the moonlight in front of them. "It's not exactly how I usually spend my nights, but it's my last week in the islands and one of the grad students had an invitation, and… the next thing I know, here I am, trying desperately not to let anyone know I don't even swim, much less surf."
Danny laughs and gives her his version of kidnapped-by-coworkers story, and realizes, somewhere in the middle of it all, that she's flirting with him, and he's flirting back, and it's been a long time since that's happened.
She's right in the middle of showing him how to find the Southern Cross--she's a little horrified that he's lived here for a year and has no idea where it is, but sounds understanding when he admits it's too damn freaky to look up in the sky and not actually recognize anything--when Steve comes stalking out of the house and announces they need to head back to Honolulu.
"My partner," Danny says, with a sigh. "Mr. Congeniality." He digs in his pockets and finds a card, and manages to suggest that maybe they can have coffee or something if she has time before she heads back to the mainland, all without sounding like too much of a divorced, out-of-practice-with-dating moron, all of which he is.
Steve is actually in the truck, engine running by the time Danny gets there; he throws the transmission in gear and pulls out without a word.
"Do I even want to know what your problem is now?" Danny asks, and gets nothing but a grunt in reply, which is about what he expects. He could push it, or he could outwait the stubborn bastard, both of which have their advantages, but it's been a long day, and he's not really in the mood for the yelling match that pushing it will inevitably bring on. He closes his eyes and leans his head back and lets the hum of the tires on the pavement lull him into a doze. It's the right call, Danny thinks, as Steve slowly relaxes next to him.
They're past Pearl City and Halawa, looping around Hickam when Danny's phone chimes with an incoming text. Not being pushy or anything, just making sure you have my number, too, it reads; Danny grins and texts back, I like the way you think.
"Grace?" Steve asks, and he's all wound up again.
"No, no, no," Danny answers, and he probably looks like an idiot, grinning like he's a kid scoring his first phone number, but what the hell. "You, my friend, were not the only one to have had a close encounter with a lovely lady this evening, and with any luck there will be more encountering happening."
Steve doesn't say anything, not until they're into the suburbs, and then he says, so quietly Danny can barely hear him, "Lose her number, Danno."
Danny can't help it; he stares at Steve for a full ten seconds before he can find his voice. "Are you actively insane or am I hearing things?"
They're in the city now; there's enough light that he can see Steve's jaw tighten.
"You heard me," Steve says, flicking a glance at Danny and going back to driving with complete concentration, which is such utter bullshit Danny can barely see straight. "Lose her number."
"Seriously, man--what the hell? Not all of us have a Lieutenant Catherine waiting in the wings--and just for the record, most of us don't walk through a room and get groped--"
"Fuck that, Danny. This isn't about--"
"No, you fuck that, and you're right, this isn't about Steve McGarrett, Superstud, it's about an attractive, intelligent woman, to whom I gave my number, offering me hers. How that's a problem is beyond me but--"
"You know what? Forget it, okay?" Steve slams around a corner, barely slowing at all. "You're right; it's not a problem."
"Hell, no," Danny answers, bracing one hand on the roof of the cab automatically. "You don't get to play that game."
"Drop it."
"Yeah, like that's going to happen, McGarrett." Danny glares across the cab, and the way Steve won't even look at him is like gasoline on a fire. "Give me one good reason I should lose her number."
"We're here," Steve says, pulling into the parking lot at Danny's apartment and all but standing on the brakes. "Conversation over; see you in the morning."
"I don't think so," Danny says. "One good reason."
"Get out of my truck."
"One. Good. Reason," Danny grits out, and he's beyond the point where he cares about whatever the actual reason might be and so far into the battle of wills this partnership has always been that there's nothing beyond the cab of the truck and the two of them in it.
"Danny," Steve says, back to the almost inaudible voice. "Let it go." He finally turns his head and looks at Danny, and for a second, there's so much in his eyes Danny can't look away. It's there and gone in a flash, too short for Steve to have intended for Danny to see it, much less understand it, except Danny's somehow gotten crazy-good at reading everything about Steve McGarrett. "Please."
"No," Danny answers, equally as quiet. It might be the first time Steve's ever actually asked him to do something, not just assumed or yelled or demanded, but every single instinct Danny has is telling him to sit tight. "Not this time."
"Fuck," Steve chokes out, and Danny hears him break, has a split-second to figure out what's coming before Steve's reaching for Danny, pulling him across the seat and into a hard kiss, hot and hungry and so fucking desperate Danny almost drowns in it, almost goes under from the sheer rush of having all that under his hands. Steve backs off nearly as quickly as he'd moved in, nothing in his eyes but the thousand-yard stare that makes Danny crazy in the best of times.
"Danno," Steve whispers. Danny can hear him breathing in quick, sharp pants even over the blood pounding hard in his own veins, but they're back to Square One, Steve not looking at him. Danny needs to be sure about this, needs to be one hundred percent behind it or there won't be a chance in hell of either one of them making it through in one piece, so he nods once and slides out of the truck.
Steve doesn't move for a long few seconds after Danny slams the door, but finally puts the truck in reverse and backs out of the lot. Danny stays where he's standing until he can't see the taillights any longer, stays there for a long time after, in case Steve changes his mind, and then drags himself up to his crappy apartment and tries to figure out what the hell is supposed to happen next.
***
...and finished in Real Deal
no subject
It's incredible, how much they sound like them. Like, I can picture them so easily, with all the bickering and the banter, and that look in Steve's eyes and Danny just thisclose to braining him, and the bond between the whole team.
This is awesome and would it be too pushy to start begging you for the next installment? How about an offer of chocolate? :)
no subject
no subject
These are just getting better and better - I'm very much looking forward to their date!!!
no subject
no subject
I have been waiting impatiently for the next installment, and there it was, like a gift, at the top of my friends page this a.m.!
It's so good - I love the way you write these characters and I am not at all jealous of your knowledge of Hawaii and how you so (seemingly) easily capture that island feel in every fic. I have an especial fondness for the way you write Kono - her voice is so pitch-perfect that when I read her I can clearly hear Grace Park speaking your dialog. All your voices are amazing, though, I just like your Kono a lot. Your group dynamics are great and also push-pull when it's just Danny & Steve.
Oh, and I love Kono going off with two guys! Go, Kono!
And OMG the ending! It is going to be SO hard now to wait for the next one!
no subject
And if it makes you feel better, I had about 15 tabs open for reference on this one, everything from the driving directions from Waikiki to Haliewa, to a search for burger joints, to the sunset/twilight times for Oahu. *koff*excessivemuch?*koff* It is making me *insane* that I can't figure out where Steve's house is.
no subject
There is a good shot of Steve's house w/the surrounding area in the pilot, at about 10:15. I was just re-watching, since I was in need of a bit of background and I noticed it.
no subject
don't answer that
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thing is, IMHO the house doesn't look fancy enough to be in east Honolulu (Kahala, Aina Haina, etc.), which is why I was thinking windward. But you might get more results with a broader search, so whatever. ;)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Beyond the Danny/Steve thing, though, I have to say I adore how you write Danny with Grace. It's just so real.
no subject
no subject
no subject
When it's actually up? There is likely to be capslock...and maybe bold font, and sparkle-text if I can figure out how to do it.
So uhm...yeah, just wanted to share that.
YAY YOU btw for you know, writing this in the first place and being like awesome for updating as regularly as you have been ^_^. Thanks for that btw!
no subject
Sorry for the tease, but yes, posted on AO3 now, soon to come here, too, and thank you for reading along! This has been an unexpectedly fun ride.
no subject
And not to mention the whole Mary story and the great group stuff in the beginning. i have been enjoying these stories very much. :)
no subject
no subject
This improved my morning immensely :)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
...
"Danno," Steve whispers. Danny can hear him breathing in quick, sharp pants even over the blood pounding hard in his own veins, but they're back to Square One, Steve not looking at him. Danny needs to be sure about this, needs to be one hundred percent behind it or there won't be a chance in hell of either one of them making it through in one piece, so he nods once and slides out of the truck.
YES. YES. THIS EXACTLY HOW IT WOULD GO DOWN. BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN CO-WORKERS AND FRIENDS FALL FOR EACH OTHER.
God, I LOVE that it's not all sunshine and flowers. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Not that I would *ahem* know anything about these things.
no subject
I wasn't going for sunshine and flowers, but I hadn't been planning on an outright shouting match either. And then there they were, yelling at each other and that felt really right. I'm so glad it worked for you, too! :)
heh. I managed to marry the guy I worked with. ::whistles innocently::
no subject
no subject