Hawanawana ke 'olelo - A Hawaii Five O Story Part One
Summary:
Danny and Steve need to stop whispering!
Author’s Note.
I thought I would try something different, in honour of just getting back from a holiday in Hawaii, and the fact that my muse came back after a very long vacation of its own. I love the characters of Danny and Steve, so in for a penny in for a pound - thought I would give a short little story a go, as my very first attempt at a Hawaii 5 0 story, so be kind!!
PS: The title means Whisper the Words, but it sounds so much more romantic in Hawaiian!
I hope you enjoy.
Calysta
PS Don't worry, I haven't forgotten J2!
Hawanawana ke 'olelo
(Whisper the Words)
by Calysta
His heart thudded, adrenaline surging through his veins as he crouched low, creeping forward cautiously. He checked his gun again, all senses on alert. Stopping, he cocked his head to one side listening, but except for the sound of his own breathing, the silence echoed all around him. He continued to edge along the row of crates, stacked high into the air, into another room. He could hear voices and laughing. Squinting into the darkness, he could just make out the shape of his partner up ahead as they crept up on their targets.
Danny Williams risked a look back over his shoulder, and cursed silently. Of course, there was no back-up watching their asses. Chin and Kono didn't even know where they were. He was here alone, up against a gang, who had just robbed a pawn shop, with his stupid thick-headed partner, Steve McGarrett.
Steve had hunkered down, his back leaning against one of the packing crates, peeping around the side every now and again. Obviously planning his next hair-brained move, Danny thought angrily. He moved to Steve's side, and peered around the crate to assess the situation with his own eyes before Steve jumped in where angels feared to tread, or some such other stupid saying. Danny sighed.
Weapons were scattered on a table, amongst empty beer bottles and pizza boxes. He counted six perps, three sitting and three standing; they were laughing, beer bottles in hand, celebrating their recent heist no doubt, Danny guessed, his gaze fixing on the pile of bank notes stacked in the centre of the table.
"What are we even doing here?" he hissed.
"Our job, Danny."
"With no back-up." Danny peered around the packing crate again. "Ohh, but what was I thinking? Of course we are here without back-up because I am here with my crazy-assed partner who thinks he is indestructible. Well, news flash, I am not. Do you hear me? I am not indestructible."
"Could you be quiet for just one minute?" Steve said irritation evident in his tone."Or are you trying to get us killed?"
Danny glared. "No, that's usually your job."
Steve scowled, checking his gun. "Okay, let's spoil their little celebration."
Danny put a hand on Steve's arm. "I don't want to be the party pooper here, but I count six we can see to our ...," Danny poked Steve's chest, and then his own. "Well what do you know? Just us chickens."
"Quit your bitching."
"Well excuse me for wondering if today is the day you are going to get me killed."
"I'm not trying to get you killed." Steve pouted. "I'd never do that."
Danny sighed in frustration. "HPD weren't sure how many perps hit the shop. And I repeat, Steven, there are six we can actually eyeball," Danny waved his hands between them again. "And two of us."
"It'll be a challenge," Steve grinned, and shrugged.
"Is that some kind of weird Army secret code thingy?"
"It's Navy Danny … the Navy."
"We should still call for back-up."
"You are my back-up, Danny."
Danny rolled his eyes. "How did I know you were gonna say that?"
Steve moved slowly forward. "Guess you know me too well."
"I don’t think I know you at all," Danny whispered, knowing Steve probably wouldn't hear him. He stamped down the hurt swirling in his belly trying to concentrate on the matter in hand - six perps with guns to their two - granted one of them was a bat-shit crazy Navy Seal, who despite all his protests was trying to get Danny killed on a daily basis.
"What?" Steve frowned at Danny.
"Nothing. Just you know making sounds."
Steve frowned again. "You ready?"
"No, but I am sure you will ignore me. Once again."
Steve moved to his left, preparing to move around the packing crate. "Five O," Steve shouted popping out from behind the crate, pointing his weapon toward the perps. "On your knees ladies."
Then the bullets started to fly. The perps snatched up their guns and split up, firing in Steve's general direction. Steve ducked behind a crate to his left, protecting his face from the hail of splinters as bullets peppered the crate. Dodging around the crate, he fired taking down one of the perps with a shot to the knee.
"I hate being right," Danny sighed, moving out from his own hiding place, to cover his stupid partner. He fired at shot at the table, hitting the stack of money dead centre. Bills floated up into the air, distracting the thieves for a moment, buying Steve and Danny some time.
Steve grinned over at Danny, before leaping out to kick the downed man, who was struggling to get up, back down to the ground. A second man lunged at Steve. Steve dodged him easily smacking him hard in the jaw with the butt of his gun, and then chopping at the back of his neck with his free hand. The man went down hard. Steve leapt over his prone body heading toward the third man, who was trying to grab as many bills as he could from the floor. The man tried to make a run for it, but Steve drop-tackled him to the floor. They rolled on the floor, each trying to get the upper hand, throwing punches.
"I swear to God, he's enjoying himself," Danny cursed, as he kicked at the perp nearest to him. The man swung at Danny. Danny sidestepped out of the way, hitting the man on the arm with his gun. The man groaned, lashing out and missing his mark. Danny bounced slightly on his feet, and punched him hard in the face. Blood spurted from the man's nose, and he stumbled. Taking advantage, Danny grabbed the man's arm, and quickly cuffed him to a metal bar. "Stay put," he pointed at the man, who snarled at him, struggling against the cuffs.
Ignoring the stream of curses from the man, Danny glanced over at Steve, who had secured the third man, and was now charging toward a fourth, a large thickset man. Danny was just about to start after a running perp when he saw a man creep out from behind a packing crate, gun in hand. Danny swore under his breath; Steve was too involved with taking down the big guy to notice. "Why didn't the stupid idiot listen when I told him there could be more," he cursed holstering his gun, slipping around a crate so he was behind the gunman. As quietly as he could, Danny inched closer to the perp with the gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed in Danny's ears, and he risked bobbing up, on tiptoes, to look at Steve slugging it out with the large man; he still hadn't noticed the man creeping up on him, gun now raised and finger on the trigger.
Now or never. "Hey," Danny barked making the man swing around. Danny took advantage, and kicked the gun out the perp's hand. His bad knee protested the movement, but undeterred Danny followed the kick with a punch to the guy's face. Staggering slightly, the man swung wildly at Danny. Danny sidestepped the blow, and brought his hand down, in a chopping motion, on the man's arm, and as he went forward, following up with a chop to the back of the guy's neck. The perp went down and stayed down.
Satisfied that the guy was unconscious, Danny secured his arm to the crate with his reserve cuffs. Glancing at Steve and getting a grin between punches, Danny rolled his eyes satisfied that his partner hadn't gotten himself killed yet. Danny drew his gun, and jogged after the running man, who he could just see was racing toward the other side of the warehouse, an open door and freedom. Danny gave chase cautiously weaving in and out of the crates, using them for cover.
A bullet whipped within an inch of his left ear, and Danny dodged to the side taking cover behind some oil drums. He fired off a shot of his own, blindly. He cocked his head to one side, listening. No returning shot. Danny counted to ten before edging out from his hiding place. Hugging the protection of the wall, Danny slowly crept toward the open door, alert, his hand tightening around his gun.
It caught him by surprise when the man darted out from behind a shelving unit firing off at shot as he made for the open door. The second bullet bounced off his jacket, the force propelling Danny backward. He huffed out a pained groan, hitting a packing case, full force. His vision greyed out for a second, and he felt sick to his stomach. Danny swallowed back the nausea, and scrabbled for his dropped gun. Using the crate for balance, Danny slid upward onto his now very wobbly legs. His breaths came in short huffed out pants. His chest hurt like a bitch, and he swallowed again, convinced he was going to throw up. "So not good throwing up on a perp." Taking another deep breath, Danny rubbed at his chest trying to ease the spreading ache. Using all his willpower, and channelling the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, he aimed his legs and body toward the daylight.
He peered around the door frame. Nothing. Danny carefully stepped out into the daylight. Squinting against the sunlight, he looked up and down. Nothing. Danny jerked to his right as a crate smashed to the ground, missing him by inches. Big mistake. His vision greyed out again, his legs wobbled, and he crashed to his knees. His arms wouldn't co-operate, and he could see the perp stalking toward him, gun drawn.
A movement to his left saw Steve flying off another stack of crates, landing on both feet and hurtling toward the perp. The man looked up, not prepared for the full frontal attack, and stumbled, dropping his gun. Steve took advantage. He kicked the fallen weapon away, and grabbed for the man, getting a kick in the shin for his efforts. Steve grunted, and staggered backward. The man leapt to his feet and swung at Steve, catching him across the cheek. Steve dodged the next punch, getting a hit in of his own. They circled each other, kicking and punching at each other.
Danny had struggled to his feet, and had finally managed to get his arms to co-operate. With a huff, Danny crept up on the fighting men. The perp didn't hear him coming up behind, too busy trying to avoid Steve's punches and kicks. Steve glanced up and grinned; Danny rolled his eyes, irritated. Danny put his gun to the man's neck, pressing the barrel hard against the skin. "Party's over," he whispered as he shoved the man to the ground, putting a knee in the small of the perp's back.
"Book him Danno," Steve tossed his cuffs at Danny, with another grin. He dug in his pocket for his cellphone. "I'll call back-up."
"Wonderful," Danny caught the cuffs, and quickly snapped them around the man's wrist. "Now you want to call for back-up. He dragged the perp to his feet, trying not to jostle his aching chest too much. "Just so you know, I hate you," Danny glared at Steve.
"You love me," Steve shouted as he disappeared into the warehouse.
"Yeah I do," Danny whispered. "Not that you give a damn."
Thirty minutes later…………
Steve rocked back and forth, flexing his shoulders, stretching out his aching muscles. He swiped at the blood caked above his left eye, deciding that he would count his bruises in the shower later. Steve grinned; another case successfully wrapped. Just the paperwork to tidy up and he was plotting, in his mind, how he could get his partner to do it for him. Speaking of partners, he wondered where Danny had gotten to. Steve pursed his lips - Danny had been behaving more weirdly than usual for the last few of days. Steve was confused; after last Saturday, he thought they were cool with each other. He smiled at the memory. Steve glanced around, frowning. "Where's Danny?" he asked Chin, who was in the middle of counting a stack of ten dollar bills.
"I told him to get himself checked out by the EMT's."
"What? Why?"
Chin could hear the panic in Steve's voice, and put a hand on his arm to stop him charging out of the warehouse looking for his partner. "Looks like you could do with a check up too."
"I'm fine," Steve pulled out of Chin's grip. "Danny?"
"He's okay. Just a hit to his vest," Chin replied. "And he was yelling. Your name was mentioned several times."
"Why didn't he tell me he was hurt?" Steve was suddenly angry. Danny should have told him that he was hurt. May be you should have noticed, his little voice taunted. He ignored the voice, and paced in a circle.
Chin shrugged. "Guess it slipped his mind."
"Slipped his mind?"
Chin shrugged again. "It happens."
Steve glared at Chin. "He should have told me. And he'd better have a damn good reason why he didn't."
Chin squeezed Steve's arm. "Go easy on him, Steve. He's hurting."
Steve narrowed his eyes at Chin. Chin returned his gaze, not flinching once. Steve knew a losing battle when he met one, and he wasn't going to win the staring match. He blinked, catching the small smirk on Chin's face. He had the strange feeling that his friend wasn't just referring to his injuries, but had learned, long ago, never to underestimate the man. Chin was perceptive, and could read people like an open book. Steve shook his head, convincing himself that Chin didn't know anything. Yeah right, his little voice mocked.
Steve pulled out of Chin's grip and marched toward the door in search of his partner. "I'll catch you and Kono back at the Palace."
"Sure thing Steve," Chin stared after Steve, wondering how two intelligent men could be such knuckleheads sometimes. He sighed, and went back to counting the money.
Steve jogged toward the ambulance. Danny was sitting on the vehicle step, his vest lying across his lap, while an EMT was taking his blood pressure. Danny glared at Steve, before turning away and staring into the distance.
Steve ignored the glare. "Where's he hurt?"
"Hit to the vest. Gonna be pretty bruised up tomorrow. Chest and back. "
"Back?"
"Apparently bounced off a crate when he was hit. BP's good and no sign of a concussion."
"Probably because he has a hard head."
The EMT chuckled, as he removed the blood pressure cuff. "All done. He should try and take it easy for a couple of days."
"Does he need to go to the hospital?"
"Excuse me, but HE is right here. Have I suddenly become the invisible man?" Danny interrupted, glaring at the EMT and then Steve. He absently rubbed at his chest.
Steve took a good look at Danny - he was paler than normal, his usually bright eyes dulled by pain, and he winced every time he moved. Worry churned in his belly. "You don't look okay."
"I am fine, Steven." Danny glared again. He took a deep breath, immediately regretting it as the movement jarred his aching chest. He mentally crossed his fingers hoping Steve hadn't noticed, and slowly got to his feet. "I am a grown up. And I do not need to go to the hospital."
"Danny."
"See, good to go." Danny ignored Steve, and nodded at the EMT. "Thanks." Arm across his chest for support, Danny headed toward his car, and the hot shower that was calling to him.
"I think you should go to the hospital," Steve followed behind Danny. He was concerned; Danny was obviously in pain, and Steve didn't like it.
Danny growled. "Leave me alone."
"I'm worried about you."
"Oh, now you're worried about me."
"You're my partner. Of course, I worry about you."
"What part of we should wait for backup didn't you understand?"
"I had it covered."
"Yeah, it looks like it." Danny huffed stabbing a finger against Steve's chest, resisting the very strong urge to caress his finger over the cut. "You're bleeding all over your stupid face."
Steve touched at the dried blood on his face again. "You know there wasn't time to wait for back-up. The perps were ready to cut and run."
Danny scowled. "No, I did not know that, but apparently you are now psychic as well as a super-Navy-human-Seal thingy. But even with your new psychic abilities, you didn't see or hear the guy sneaking up on your ass? I told you there may be more of the perps. But did you listen? No of course you didn't."
"Did I thank you for that?" Steve interrupted Danny's rant before it escalated any further.
"No. You never thank me. Just expect me to be there covering your stupid ass."
"You'll always be there. And I know you'll always have my back."
"One day you'll look and I won't be there." Danny turned his back on Steve.
"Never happen." Steve smirked, folding his arms across his chest.
Danny whirled on Steve. His vision greyed out for a moment, and he took a couple of deep breaths trying not to be sick, although the thought of throwing up all over Steve at the moment was very tempting. "What is it about you that makes me want to yell at you all the damn time?"
Despite the situation, Steve had the strong urge to laugh. As usual Danny was waving his arms and hands about in the air, punctuating every word as he shouted. Danny was like a windmill on speed, and to Steve it had become strangely familiar, even comforting, but hell would freeze over before he ever admitted it to Danny.
Steve shrugged, deciding that silence was the best policy on this occasion. Danny was on a roll, and sometimes Steve was sure he would take off with all the frantic gesticulating he did when he was angry. He turned his attention back to Danny, who had added pacing up and down to his frenzied arm waving.
"What the hell is the matter with you? Six perps. No, make that seven, with no back-up." Danny poked Steve again. The movement pulled on his chest, and he huffed out a pained breath, rubbing at his chest again.
Steve was immediately concerned. "Are you okay?"
Danny batted Steve's hands away. "I'm fine, and if you suggest the hospital again, I will beat you to death with my bare hands."
Steve snorted as he put his hands of his hips. He tilted his head to one side. "I'd like to see you try."
"I mean it," Danny glowered at Steve.
Steve ignored the threat. "You look a little pale to me."
"I'm a haole, we're all pale compared to all you," he brandished a hand at Steve. "Bronzed sun soaked people."
"I care about you."
"News to me." Danny snapped.
"Excuse me."
Danny knew he was being unkind, and the kicked puppy look on Steve's face made him feel crappy, and lower than low, but he was tired, hurting and just wanted to go home, shower, lick his wounds, wallow and feel sorry for himself.
"I care about you a lot," Steve said, reaching for Danny. His fingers brushed Danny's face.
Danny flinched, taking a step back away from Steve. "You have a funny way of showing it."
"I don't understand. Why are you being so uptight and angry?"
Fury, mixed with a good dose of hurt, curled in Danny's belly. The long days and nights wondering what the hell he had done since the weekend all of a sudden seemed too much for Danny. "I've been uptight this week. I've been uptight this week," he snorted. "That's rich coming from the poster boy for Tall Dark and Uptight," Danny snapped, stabbing a finger against Steve's chest again. "You've ignored me. Partnered me up with Kono or Chin, except for today. I repeat ignored me since the weekend. And to end a perfectly crappy week, you nearly got me killed again. You, Steven, are a menace to sane people, and a pain in my ass."
Steve frowned, trying to work out in the head just what he had done this time to piss Danny off so badly, apart from the no back-up. They were cool, weren't they? It hit him suddenly, the penny dropping, and he waggled his fingers at Danny and then himself. "Is this about sex?"
Danny gave Steve an icy glare, and glanced around. "Could you say that a little louder because I am not sure the HPD Officer over there caught everything that just came outta your stupid big mouth?"
"So it is? About sex?"
Danny leaned against the Camaro. "I am so not having this conversation."
Steve folded his arms across his chest. Danny's face was flushed, and he gave a small snort. "You're mad at me because of the weekend?"
"Have you been sniffing your grenades again?
Steve leaned closer. "You are. You're mad because we had sex."
"I am not mad because we had sex."
"Then what? I thought we were cool, you know about us."
Steve was standing there mocking him, and Danny felt like he had been kicked in the gut. The hurt was worse than the bullet hit to his jacket. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he'd gotten this all wrong - Steve didn't feel the same. It was just about sex for Steve, a big joke, and it was on him. Danny Williams had done it again, fallen for someone, who didn't give a rat's ass about him. "Apparently, there is no us." Danny tried to keep the hurt and misery out of his voice, but knew he was failing spectacularly. His voice cracked, and he looked away from Steve, nibbling at his bottom lip.
Steve could have kicked himself - he knew without a doubt that he had handled the situation all wrong. But the wonderful weekend with Danny had wrong-footed him, knocked him off kilter, and for the first time in his life, Steve hadn't known what to do. After a long talk with himself, Steve had decided to go for acting normal, but from the look on Danny's face, that had been the wrong move. May be he should have skipped the talk with himself, and talked to Danny. Steve groaned as the realisation hit him. Of course he should have talked to Danny. Instead, he had blundered around, and managed to hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt.
"I didn't know what was appropriate or how we should handle things. You know, what the etiquette or modus operandi should be." Steve immediately wanted to kick himself again - very hard - and possibly throw himself from a very tall building without a swimming t cushion his pool. His words sounded lame, really lame even to his own ears, and one look at Danny confirmed that he was probably the world's stupidest person. Steve knew he had driven the knife even deeper. Perhaps even twisted it a bit. Steve stared at Danny secretly hoping his partner would take the lead, and know what to do. Danny always knew what to do, Steve told himself. Say sorry you idiot, his little voice instructed. Say sorry now before it's too late. Steve went to open his mouth, but Danny beat him to it.
"There is no appropriateness," Danny snarled. "I am … we are not some damn Modus Oper-whatsit. We are not part of a Navy Seal night raid, we are not, I repeat, storming a castle or invading a country or overthrowing a dictator. I thought we were in the middle of a relationship with … with feelings and mushy stuff."
"Mushy stuff?" Steve couldn't help interrupting.
Danny glared. "Yes mushy stuff Steven. That's what normal people in a relationship sometimes do. There is holding of hands. Kissing, lots of kissing, and may be even some dancing to lame music by candlelight. That is a relationship. It is not planned with military precision, it is spontaneous and fun. But what do I know? I'm just a dumb cop." Danny stared at Steve, waiting for Steve to say something, anything. Silence seemed to echo in his ears, and Steve just stared at him, as though he had suddenly grown two heads. Danny blew out a frustrated sigh. "This is the part where you're supposed to say something," he waved a hand at Steve.
"Oh."
"Well thank you for that. I feel so much better now."
"I wasn't sure what to do," Steve protested.
"That's it? That's all you've got?" Danny knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't seem to help himself. His mouth was moving without his permission. "You have not said one word to me that hasn't been about work since the weekend. That is four whole days. And four whole nights. I tried, but you Mr-in-control-of-my feelings. You have not said one word, or touched me, or hell even sneaked a kiss when no-one's looking. I don't want hearts and roses or grand romantic gestures, but a little sign we are both on the same page would have been good. You're like … like the anti-romance elf."
Steve stared at Danny. Danny was right. He had ignored Danny completely, may be even pushed him away a little. He had done absolutely nothing to let Danny know how he felt, let him know how important he was, and how wonderful the weekend had been. To Steve, their relationship wasn't about sex, it was about love. So tell him, his brain prompted. But it was so hard for Steve to trust or even think someone would love him. But he sensed Danny did, and Steve had ruined it by being indifferent and distant. Stupid. Stupid. The truth always hurts popped into Steve's head, and whoever had made up the saying had been dead right. It did. It hurt like hell. His tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth, and he couldn't seem to get his thoughts in order or his words out. He had hurt Danny, and Steve couldn't think of one damn thing to say to make things right.
"Was I just another notch on your hammock? Tell me Steve, did the weekend mean anything to you?"
Steve could feel panic rising, and he batted it down, trying to concentrate on Danny, who had just asked him a very important question, may be two, but Steve couldn't be certain because his brain was melting slowly. Focus. Concentrate on Danny. His stupid brain wasn't working, and Steve couldn't seem to make his mouth work. Navy Seal training hadn't included this, and Steve felt strangely out of his depth and totally lost. Give me a beach to storm any day, he thought.
Danny cocked his head to one side, looking Steve up and down. He sighed, massaging his forehead against the headache that was slowly blooming. "Okay then. At least we are now on the same page." Danny was proud that he almost kept the crack out of his voice.
The anguished expression on Danny's face and the crack in his voice almost killed Steve. He was responsible, and Steve finally managed to speak. "Danny."
"I changed my mind. Don't talk," Danny warned with a growl.
Steve stepped forward reaching out, his fingers grazing Danny's arm, and caressing along his forearm. "I really didn't mean to hurt you, Danny."
Danny's skin burned at the touch, and he recoiled. "Get outta my face McGarrett," Danny slapped Steve's hand away.
"Danny." Steve said, stunned at Danny's reaction.
Danny glared. He could hear the sincerity in Steve's words, could see the anguish in Steve's eyes, and Danny knew deep down that Steve would never hurt him on purpose. Tiredness washed over him, and right at that moment, he really didn't want to hear what Steve had to say, and he definitely didn't want to be touched by him. He ducked out of reach, and glared again at Steve. "I'm done."
"What are you doing?"
"Taking the afternoon off." Danny turned away from Steve, and slid into the Camaro. Jamming the key into the ignition and turning it, Danny shoved the vehicle into drive, pushed his foot hard on the gas gunning the engine. He felt the wheels spin and the rear end wobble as he battled to aim the Camaro in a straight line. Danny wasn't going to look in the mirror - he wasn't. "Yeah right," he hissed glancing in the mirror he wasn't going to look at. The spreading ache in his chest wasn't from the bullet hit, and Danny swallowed hard. He kept his eyes trained on the mirror and Steve until he swerved around the corner of the warehouse toward the exit, and the highway.
To be continued here ......
Danny and Steve need to stop whispering!
Author’s Note.
I thought I would try something different, in honour of just getting back from a holiday in Hawaii, and the fact that my muse came back after a very long vacation of its own. I love the characters of Danny and Steve, so in for a penny in for a pound - thought I would give a short little story a go, as my very first attempt at a Hawaii 5 0 story, so be kind!!
PS: The title means Whisper the Words, but it sounds so much more romantic in Hawaiian!
I hope you enjoy.
Calysta
PS Don't worry, I haven't forgotten J2!
Hawanawana ke 'olelo
(Whisper the Words)
by Calysta
His heart thudded, adrenaline surging through his veins as he crouched low, creeping forward cautiously. He checked his gun again, all senses on alert. Stopping, he cocked his head to one side listening, but except for the sound of his own breathing, the silence echoed all around him. He continued to edge along the row of crates, stacked high into the air, into another room. He could hear voices and laughing. Squinting into the darkness, he could just make out the shape of his partner up ahead as they crept up on their targets.
Danny Williams risked a look back over his shoulder, and cursed silently. Of course, there was no back-up watching their asses. Chin and Kono didn't even know where they were. He was here alone, up against a gang, who had just robbed a pawn shop, with his stupid thick-headed partner, Steve McGarrett.
Steve had hunkered down, his back leaning against one of the packing crates, peeping around the side every now and again. Obviously planning his next hair-brained move, Danny thought angrily. He moved to Steve's side, and peered around the crate to assess the situation with his own eyes before Steve jumped in where angels feared to tread, or some such other stupid saying. Danny sighed.
Weapons were scattered on a table, amongst empty beer bottles and pizza boxes. He counted six perps, three sitting and three standing; they were laughing, beer bottles in hand, celebrating their recent heist no doubt, Danny guessed, his gaze fixing on the pile of bank notes stacked in the centre of the table.
"What are we even doing here?" he hissed.
"Our job, Danny."
"With no back-up." Danny peered around the packing crate again. "Ohh, but what was I thinking? Of course we are here without back-up because I am here with my crazy-assed partner who thinks he is indestructible. Well, news flash, I am not. Do you hear me? I am not indestructible."
"Could you be quiet for just one minute?" Steve said irritation evident in his tone."Or are you trying to get us killed?"
Danny glared. "No, that's usually your job."
Steve scowled, checking his gun. "Okay, let's spoil their little celebration."
Danny put a hand on Steve's arm. "I don't want to be the party pooper here, but I count six we can see to our ...," Danny poked Steve's chest, and then his own. "Well what do you know? Just us chickens."
"Quit your bitching."
"Well excuse me for wondering if today is the day you are going to get me killed."
"I'm not trying to get you killed." Steve pouted. "I'd never do that."
Danny sighed in frustration. "HPD weren't sure how many perps hit the shop. And I repeat, Steven, there are six we can actually eyeball," Danny waved his hands between them again. "And two of us."
"It'll be a challenge," Steve grinned, and shrugged.
"Is that some kind of weird Army secret code thingy?"
"It's Navy Danny … the Navy."
"We should still call for back-up."
"You are my back-up, Danny."
Danny rolled his eyes. "How did I know you were gonna say that?"
Steve moved slowly forward. "Guess you know me too well."
"I don’t think I know you at all," Danny whispered, knowing Steve probably wouldn't hear him. He stamped down the hurt swirling in his belly trying to concentrate on the matter in hand - six perps with guns to their two - granted one of them was a bat-shit crazy Navy Seal, who despite all his protests was trying to get Danny killed on a daily basis.
"What?" Steve frowned at Danny.
"Nothing. Just you know making sounds."
Steve frowned again. "You ready?"
"No, but I am sure you will ignore me. Once again."
Steve moved to his left, preparing to move around the packing crate. "Five O," Steve shouted popping out from behind the crate, pointing his weapon toward the perps. "On your knees ladies."
Then the bullets started to fly. The perps snatched up their guns and split up, firing in Steve's general direction. Steve ducked behind a crate to his left, protecting his face from the hail of splinters as bullets peppered the crate. Dodging around the crate, he fired taking down one of the perps with a shot to the knee.
"I hate being right," Danny sighed, moving out from his own hiding place, to cover his stupid partner. He fired at shot at the table, hitting the stack of money dead centre. Bills floated up into the air, distracting the thieves for a moment, buying Steve and Danny some time.
Steve grinned over at Danny, before leaping out to kick the downed man, who was struggling to get up, back down to the ground. A second man lunged at Steve. Steve dodged him easily smacking him hard in the jaw with the butt of his gun, and then chopping at the back of his neck with his free hand. The man went down hard. Steve leapt over his prone body heading toward the third man, who was trying to grab as many bills as he could from the floor. The man tried to make a run for it, but Steve drop-tackled him to the floor. They rolled on the floor, each trying to get the upper hand, throwing punches.
"I swear to God, he's enjoying himself," Danny cursed, as he kicked at the perp nearest to him. The man swung at Danny. Danny sidestepped out of the way, hitting the man on the arm with his gun. The man groaned, lashing out and missing his mark. Danny bounced slightly on his feet, and punched him hard in the face. Blood spurted from the man's nose, and he stumbled. Taking advantage, Danny grabbed the man's arm, and quickly cuffed him to a metal bar. "Stay put," he pointed at the man, who snarled at him, struggling against the cuffs.
Ignoring the stream of curses from the man, Danny glanced over at Steve, who had secured the third man, and was now charging toward a fourth, a large thickset man. Danny was just about to start after a running perp when he saw a man creep out from behind a packing crate, gun in hand. Danny swore under his breath; Steve was too involved with taking down the big guy to notice. "Why didn't the stupid idiot listen when I told him there could be more," he cursed holstering his gun, slipping around a crate so he was behind the gunman. As quietly as he could, Danny inched closer to the perp with the gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed in Danny's ears, and he risked bobbing up, on tiptoes, to look at Steve slugging it out with the large man; he still hadn't noticed the man creeping up on him, gun now raised and finger on the trigger.
Now or never. "Hey," Danny barked making the man swing around. Danny took advantage, and kicked the gun out the perp's hand. His bad knee protested the movement, but undeterred Danny followed the kick with a punch to the guy's face. Staggering slightly, the man swung wildly at Danny. Danny sidestepped the blow, and brought his hand down, in a chopping motion, on the man's arm, and as he went forward, following up with a chop to the back of the guy's neck. The perp went down and stayed down.
Satisfied that the guy was unconscious, Danny secured his arm to the crate with his reserve cuffs. Glancing at Steve and getting a grin between punches, Danny rolled his eyes satisfied that his partner hadn't gotten himself killed yet. Danny drew his gun, and jogged after the running man, who he could just see was racing toward the other side of the warehouse, an open door and freedom. Danny gave chase cautiously weaving in and out of the crates, using them for cover.
A bullet whipped within an inch of his left ear, and Danny dodged to the side taking cover behind some oil drums. He fired off a shot of his own, blindly. He cocked his head to one side, listening. No returning shot. Danny counted to ten before edging out from his hiding place. Hugging the protection of the wall, Danny slowly crept toward the open door, alert, his hand tightening around his gun.
It caught him by surprise when the man darted out from behind a shelving unit firing off at shot as he made for the open door. The second bullet bounced off his jacket, the force propelling Danny backward. He huffed out a pained groan, hitting a packing case, full force. His vision greyed out for a second, and he felt sick to his stomach. Danny swallowed back the nausea, and scrabbled for his dropped gun. Using the crate for balance, Danny slid upward onto his now very wobbly legs. His breaths came in short huffed out pants. His chest hurt like a bitch, and he swallowed again, convinced he was going to throw up. "So not good throwing up on a perp." Taking another deep breath, Danny rubbed at his chest trying to ease the spreading ache. Using all his willpower, and channelling the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, he aimed his legs and body toward the daylight.
He peered around the door frame. Nothing. Danny carefully stepped out into the daylight. Squinting against the sunlight, he looked up and down. Nothing. Danny jerked to his right as a crate smashed to the ground, missing him by inches. Big mistake. His vision greyed out again, his legs wobbled, and he crashed to his knees. His arms wouldn't co-operate, and he could see the perp stalking toward him, gun drawn.
A movement to his left saw Steve flying off another stack of crates, landing on both feet and hurtling toward the perp. The man looked up, not prepared for the full frontal attack, and stumbled, dropping his gun. Steve took advantage. He kicked the fallen weapon away, and grabbed for the man, getting a kick in the shin for his efforts. Steve grunted, and staggered backward. The man leapt to his feet and swung at Steve, catching him across the cheek. Steve dodged the next punch, getting a hit in of his own. They circled each other, kicking and punching at each other.
Danny had struggled to his feet, and had finally managed to get his arms to co-operate. With a huff, Danny crept up on the fighting men. The perp didn't hear him coming up behind, too busy trying to avoid Steve's punches and kicks. Steve glanced up and grinned; Danny rolled his eyes, irritated. Danny put his gun to the man's neck, pressing the barrel hard against the skin. "Party's over," he whispered as he shoved the man to the ground, putting a knee in the small of the perp's back.
"Book him Danno," Steve tossed his cuffs at Danny, with another grin. He dug in his pocket for his cellphone. "I'll call back-up."
"Wonderful," Danny caught the cuffs, and quickly snapped them around the man's wrist. "Now you want to call for back-up. He dragged the perp to his feet, trying not to jostle his aching chest too much. "Just so you know, I hate you," Danny glared at Steve.
"You love me," Steve shouted as he disappeared into the warehouse.
"Yeah I do," Danny whispered. "Not that you give a damn."
Thirty minutes later…………
Steve rocked back and forth, flexing his shoulders, stretching out his aching muscles. He swiped at the blood caked above his left eye, deciding that he would count his bruises in the shower later. Steve grinned; another case successfully wrapped. Just the paperwork to tidy up and he was plotting, in his mind, how he could get his partner to do it for him. Speaking of partners, he wondered where Danny had gotten to. Steve pursed his lips - Danny had been behaving more weirdly than usual for the last few of days. Steve was confused; after last Saturday, he thought they were cool with each other. He smiled at the memory. Steve glanced around, frowning. "Where's Danny?" he asked Chin, who was in the middle of counting a stack of ten dollar bills.
"I told him to get himself checked out by the EMT's."
"What? Why?"
Chin could hear the panic in Steve's voice, and put a hand on his arm to stop him charging out of the warehouse looking for his partner. "Looks like you could do with a check up too."
"I'm fine," Steve pulled out of Chin's grip. "Danny?"
"He's okay. Just a hit to his vest," Chin replied. "And he was yelling. Your name was mentioned several times."
"Why didn't he tell me he was hurt?" Steve was suddenly angry. Danny should have told him that he was hurt. May be you should have noticed, his little voice taunted. He ignored the voice, and paced in a circle.
Chin shrugged. "Guess it slipped his mind."
"Slipped his mind?"
Chin shrugged again. "It happens."
Steve glared at Chin. "He should have told me. And he'd better have a damn good reason why he didn't."
Chin squeezed Steve's arm. "Go easy on him, Steve. He's hurting."
Steve narrowed his eyes at Chin. Chin returned his gaze, not flinching once. Steve knew a losing battle when he met one, and he wasn't going to win the staring match. He blinked, catching the small smirk on Chin's face. He had the strange feeling that his friend wasn't just referring to his injuries, but had learned, long ago, never to underestimate the man. Chin was perceptive, and could read people like an open book. Steve shook his head, convincing himself that Chin didn't know anything. Yeah right, his little voice mocked.
Steve pulled out of Chin's grip and marched toward the door in search of his partner. "I'll catch you and Kono back at the Palace."
"Sure thing Steve," Chin stared after Steve, wondering how two intelligent men could be such knuckleheads sometimes. He sighed, and went back to counting the money.
Steve jogged toward the ambulance. Danny was sitting on the vehicle step, his vest lying across his lap, while an EMT was taking his blood pressure. Danny glared at Steve, before turning away and staring into the distance.
Steve ignored the glare. "Where's he hurt?"
"Hit to the vest. Gonna be pretty bruised up tomorrow. Chest and back. "
"Back?"
"Apparently bounced off a crate when he was hit. BP's good and no sign of a concussion."
"Probably because he has a hard head."
The EMT chuckled, as he removed the blood pressure cuff. "All done. He should try and take it easy for a couple of days."
"Does he need to go to the hospital?"
"Excuse me, but HE is right here. Have I suddenly become the invisible man?" Danny interrupted, glaring at the EMT and then Steve. He absently rubbed at his chest.
Steve took a good look at Danny - he was paler than normal, his usually bright eyes dulled by pain, and he winced every time he moved. Worry churned in his belly. "You don't look okay."
"I am fine, Steven." Danny glared again. He took a deep breath, immediately regretting it as the movement jarred his aching chest. He mentally crossed his fingers hoping Steve hadn't noticed, and slowly got to his feet. "I am a grown up. And I do not need to go to the hospital."
"Danny."
"See, good to go." Danny ignored Steve, and nodded at the EMT. "Thanks." Arm across his chest for support, Danny headed toward his car, and the hot shower that was calling to him.
"I think you should go to the hospital," Steve followed behind Danny. He was concerned; Danny was obviously in pain, and Steve didn't like it.
Danny growled. "Leave me alone."
"I'm worried about you."
"Oh, now you're worried about me."
"You're my partner. Of course, I worry about you."
"What part of we should wait for backup didn't you understand?"
"I had it covered."
"Yeah, it looks like it." Danny huffed stabbing a finger against Steve's chest, resisting the very strong urge to caress his finger over the cut. "You're bleeding all over your stupid face."
Steve touched at the dried blood on his face again. "You know there wasn't time to wait for back-up. The perps were ready to cut and run."
Danny scowled. "No, I did not know that, but apparently you are now psychic as well as a super-Navy-human-Seal thingy. But even with your new psychic abilities, you didn't see or hear the guy sneaking up on your ass? I told you there may be more of the perps. But did you listen? No of course you didn't."
"Did I thank you for that?" Steve interrupted Danny's rant before it escalated any further.
"No. You never thank me. Just expect me to be there covering your stupid ass."
"You'll always be there. And I know you'll always have my back."
"One day you'll look and I won't be there." Danny turned his back on Steve.
"Never happen." Steve smirked, folding his arms across his chest.
Danny whirled on Steve. His vision greyed out for a moment, and he took a couple of deep breaths trying not to be sick, although the thought of throwing up all over Steve at the moment was very tempting. "What is it about you that makes me want to yell at you all the damn time?"
Despite the situation, Steve had the strong urge to laugh. As usual Danny was waving his arms and hands about in the air, punctuating every word as he shouted. Danny was like a windmill on speed, and to Steve it had become strangely familiar, even comforting, but hell would freeze over before he ever admitted it to Danny.
Steve shrugged, deciding that silence was the best policy on this occasion. Danny was on a roll, and sometimes Steve was sure he would take off with all the frantic gesticulating he did when he was angry. He turned his attention back to Danny, who had added pacing up and down to his frenzied arm waving.
"What the hell is the matter with you? Six perps. No, make that seven, with no back-up." Danny poked Steve again. The movement pulled on his chest, and he huffed out a pained breath, rubbing at his chest again.
Steve was immediately concerned. "Are you okay?"
Danny batted Steve's hands away. "I'm fine, and if you suggest the hospital again, I will beat you to death with my bare hands."
Steve snorted as he put his hands of his hips. He tilted his head to one side. "I'd like to see you try."
"I mean it," Danny glowered at Steve.
Steve ignored the threat. "You look a little pale to me."
"I'm a haole, we're all pale compared to all you," he brandished a hand at Steve. "Bronzed sun soaked people."
"I care about you."
"News to me." Danny snapped.
"Excuse me."
Danny knew he was being unkind, and the kicked puppy look on Steve's face made him feel crappy, and lower than low, but he was tired, hurting and just wanted to go home, shower, lick his wounds, wallow and feel sorry for himself.
"I care about you a lot," Steve said, reaching for Danny. His fingers brushed Danny's face.
Danny flinched, taking a step back away from Steve. "You have a funny way of showing it."
"I don't understand. Why are you being so uptight and angry?"
Fury, mixed with a good dose of hurt, curled in Danny's belly. The long days and nights wondering what the hell he had done since the weekend all of a sudden seemed too much for Danny. "I've been uptight this week. I've been uptight this week," he snorted. "That's rich coming from the poster boy for Tall Dark and Uptight," Danny snapped, stabbing a finger against Steve's chest again. "You've ignored me. Partnered me up with Kono or Chin, except for today. I repeat ignored me since the weekend. And to end a perfectly crappy week, you nearly got me killed again. You, Steven, are a menace to sane people, and a pain in my ass."
Steve frowned, trying to work out in the head just what he had done this time to piss Danny off so badly, apart from the no back-up. They were cool, weren't they? It hit him suddenly, the penny dropping, and he waggled his fingers at Danny and then himself. "Is this about sex?"
Danny gave Steve an icy glare, and glanced around. "Could you say that a little louder because I am not sure the HPD Officer over there caught everything that just came outta your stupid big mouth?"
"So it is? About sex?"
Danny leaned against the Camaro. "I am so not having this conversation."
Steve folded his arms across his chest. Danny's face was flushed, and he gave a small snort. "You're mad at me because of the weekend?"
"Have you been sniffing your grenades again?
Steve leaned closer. "You are. You're mad because we had sex."
"I am not mad because we had sex."
"Then what? I thought we were cool, you know about us."
Steve was standing there mocking him, and Danny felt like he had been kicked in the gut. The hurt was worse than the bullet hit to his jacket. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he'd gotten this all wrong - Steve didn't feel the same. It was just about sex for Steve, a big joke, and it was on him. Danny Williams had done it again, fallen for someone, who didn't give a rat's ass about him. "Apparently, there is no us." Danny tried to keep the hurt and misery out of his voice, but knew he was failing spectacularly. His voice cracked, and he looked away from Steve, nibbling at his bottom lip.
Steve could have kicked himself - he knew without a doubt that he had handled the situation all wrong. But the wonderful weekend with Danny had wrong-footed him, knocked him off kilter, and for the first time in his life, Steve hadn't known what to do. After a long talk with himself, Steve had decided to go for acting normal, but from the look on Danny's face, that had been the wrong move. May be he should have skipped the talk with himself, and talked to Danny. Steve groaned as the realisation hit him. Of course he should have talked to Danny. Instead, he had blundered around, and managed to hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt.
"I didn't know what was appropriate or how we should handle things. You know, what the etiquette or modus operandi should be." Steve immediately wanted to kick himself again - very hard - and possibly throw himself from a very tall building without a swimming t cushion his pool. His words sounded lame, really lame even to his own ears, and one look at Danny confirmed that he was probably the world's stupidest person. Steve knew he had driven the knife even deeper. Perhaps even twisted it a bit. Steve stared at Danny secretly hoping his partner would take the lead, and know what to do. Danny always knew what to do, Steve told himself. Say sorry you idiot, his little voice instructed. Say sorry now before it's too late. Steve went to open his mouth, but Danny beat him to it.
"There is no appropriateness," Danny snarled. "I am … we are not some damn Modus Oper-whatsit. We are not part of a Navy Seal night raid, we are not, I repeat, storming a castle or invading a country or overthrowing a dictator. I thought we were in the middle of a relationship with … with feelings and mushy stuff."
"Mushy stuff?" Steve couldn't help interrupting.
Danny glared. "Yes mushy stuff Steven. That's what normal people in a relationship sometimes do. There is holding of hands. Kissing, lots of kissing, and may be even some dancing to lame music by candlelight. That is a relationship. It is not planned with military precision, it is spontaneous and fun. But what do I know? I'm just a dumb cop." Danny stared at Steve, waiting for Steve to say something, anything. Silence seemed to echo in his ears, and Steve just stared at him, as though he had suddenly grown two heads. Danny blew out a frustrated sigh. "This is the part where you're supposed to say something," he waved a hand at Steve.
"Oh."
"Well thank you for that. I feel so much better now."
"I wasn't sure what to do," Steve protested.
"That's it? That's all you've got?" Danny knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't seem to help himself. His mouth was moving without his permission. "You have not said one word to me that hasn't been about work since the weekend. That is four whole days. And four whole nights. I tried, but you Mr-in-control-of-my feelings. You have not said one word, or touched me, or hell even sneaked a kiss when no-one's looking. I don't want hearts and roses or grand romantic gestures, but a little sign we are both on the same page would have been good. You're like … like the anti-romance elf."
Steve stared at Danny. Danny was right. He had ignored Danny completely, may be even pushed him away a little. He had done absolutely nothing to let Danny know how he felt, let him know how important he was, and how wonderful the weekend had been. To Steve, their relationship wasn't about sex, it was about love. So tell him, his brain prompted. But it was so hard for Steve to trust or even think someone would love him. But he sensed Danny did, and Steve had ruined it by being indifferent and distant. Stupid. Stupid. The truth always hurts popped into Steve's head, and whoever had made up the saying had been dead right. It did. It hurt like hell. His tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth, and he couldn't seem to get his thoughts in order or his words out. He had hurt Danny, and Steve couldn't think of one damn thing to say to make things right.
"Was I just another notch on your hammock? Tell me Steve, did the weekend mean anything to you?"
Steve could feel panic rising, and he batted it down, trying to concentrate on Danny, who had just asked him a very important question, may be two, but Steve couldn't be certain because his brain was melting slowly. Focus. Concentrate on Danny. His stupid brain wasn't working, and Steve couldn't seem to make his mouth work. Navy Seal training hadn't included this, and Steve felt strangely out of his depth and totally lost. Give me a beach to storm any day, he thought.
Danny cocked his head to one side, looking Steve up and down. He sighed, massaging his forehead against the headache that was slowly blooming. "Okay then. At least we are now on the same page." Danny was proud that he almost kept the crack out of his voice.
The anguished expression on Danny's face and the crack in his voice almost killed Steve. He was responsible, and Steve finally managed to speak. "Danny."
"I changed my mind. Don't talk," Danny warned with a growl.
Steve stepped forward reaching out, his fingers grazing Danny's arm, and caressing along his forearm. "I really didn't mean to hurt you, Danny."
Danny's skin burned at the touch, and he recoiled. "Get outta my face McGarrett," Danny slapped Steve's hand away.
"Danny." Steve said, stunned at Danny's reaction.
Danny glared. He could hear the sincerity in Steve's words, could see the anguish in Steve's eyes, and Danny knew deep down that Steve would never hurt him on purpose. Tiredness washed over him, and right at that moment, he really didn't want to hear what Steve had to say, and he definitely didn't want to be touched by him. He ducked out of reach, and glared again at Steve. "I'm done."
"What are you doing?"
"Taking the afternoon off." Danny turned away from Steve, and slid into the Camaro. Jamming the key into the ignition and turning it, Danny shoved the vehicle into drive, pushed his foot hard on the gas gunning the engine. He felt the wheels spin and the rear end wobble as he battled to aim the Camaro in a straight line. Danny wasn't going to look in the mirror - he wasn't. "Yeah right," he hissed glancing in the mirror he wasn't going to look at. The spreading ache in his chest wasn't from the bullet hit, and Danny swallowed hard. He kept his eyes trained on the mirror and Steve until he swerved around the corner of the warehouse toward the exit, and the highway.
To be continued here ......