[Hawaii Five-0] The Importance of Role Models
Title: The Importance of Role Models
Author:
kitsune_tsuki
Rating: PG
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,256
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form do these characters belong to me.
Summary: The way Danny's life works is not the way other peoples' lives work. Other people have co-workers with a working understanding of what common sense is, and how it relates to, well, everything. Danny has Steve McGarrett.
Notes: Still bad at titling my fic. /o\
The way Danny's life works is not the way other peoples' lives work. Other people have co-workers with a working understanding of what common sense is, and how it relates to, well, everything. Danny has Steve McGarrett.
Right there, that's his problem.
"Okay, so," Danny says, surprised at the way he sounds calm and not at all like he'd love nothing better than to punch Steve in his stupid face. "We're trapped in this room, this," he pauses for dramatic effect since Steve doesn't seem to be giving their current situation the full amount of attention it deserves, "this deathtrap, and you're doing what, exactly?"
Steve is, in fact, digging through the various containers and boxes in their cozy little deathtrap and tossing aside things he evidently finds unacceptable.
"I'm listening," Steve mumbles, which is blatantly not true, and proves that Steve has never learned randomly throwing out lines like that is not a viable conversational tactic.
"I'm going to shoot you," Danny says, making a mental note to do just that as soon as they get free and he gets his hands on a gun. "I'm going to shoot you so much."
Steve chooses that moment to nod. "Uh-huh, sounds great, Danno."
Danny throws his hands up in the air and stalks away from Steve, grumbling under his breath.
====
====
Half an hour later Steve lays out what he's managed to scrounge up, poking and prodding them and obviously trying to come up with an escape plan.
"So what do we have, MacGyver?" Danny asks, genuinely curious as to how Steve plans to get them out of their current predicament with pieces of scrap metal and broken glass.
Steve looks up at him, frown deepening. "Who?"
There is no way Steve can't know who MacGyver is. There just isn't. "Seriously?" Danny asks. "Seriously. You, Mr. Science with the chemistry and whatnot, you don't know who MacGyver is."
"What?" Steve has the slightly pissy look on his face, which means he actually, seriously doesn't know who MacGyver is, and that just. Wait, no. It explains so, so much about Steve and his tendencies towards violent resolutions where possible, as opposed to MacGyver's usual methods.
Danny cocks his head to the side and just looks at Steve. They've been locked in a tiny storage room for over an hour by a bunch of semi-competent criminals, and Steve is tired and frustrated. With the assholes who'd caught them snooping around their suspected base of operations, with themselves for not being as alert as they should have been, but mostly with himself because Steve's a SEAL, and apparently shit like this doesn't happen to them.
And even though Steve may be having personal issues with being caught out by people with a passing acquaintance with competence, they have been relieved of their weapons, including Steve's knives.
(And, really, the fact that Danny has to use the plural form in that instance also says so much about Steve.)
"Later," Danny says, flapping a hand at Steve. "Later we will talk about all the ways your life could have turned out differently if only you'd had MacGyver as a role model as a kid and not, like, Rambo."
Danny's a dad. He knows all about the statistics and research regarding the importance of positive role models on kids and how they'll turn out to be juvenile delinquents and criminals, or, worse, Steve, if they're exposed to the wrong sort of influences at an early age.
Steve snorts and turns his attention back to the sad, sad little collection he's put together. "Rambo's Army, Danno," he says dismissively, a little twist to his mouth Danny is all too familiar with.
"Yeah, okay," Danny says, not willing to re-hash the inter-service rivalry thing with Steve again. "You find anything useful?"
Steve shrugs, sliding a small piece of metal to one side. "Maybe," he says, looking up at the door.
Danny follows his gaze, and then looks back down at the piece of metal Steve singled out. The room they're locked in wasn't meant to keep people inside, so there's just a simple lock on the door. The door that happens to open inwards, which means the hinges are on their side of the door.
"Hinges?" Danny asks, when Steve picks up the piece of metal and tests to see how strong it is.
Steve looks at him and smiles. "Hinges."
====
====
They never really have the MacGyver vs Rambo as suitable role models talk, but that's fine with Danny because he's too busy bemoaning the fate of his car, now riddled with bullets and also, at the bottom of a rocky cliff.
"Kneecaps," he says, scowling at Steve who doesn't seem all that bothered by Danny's threats. "I'm going to shoot your fucking kneecaps."
Steve rolls his eyes like he seriously thinks Danny won't do it. "Come on, if we leave now Kono will take care of the paperwork."
It's not so much Kono will take care of the paperwork as it is Kono will kill them if she has to deal with them much longer. "I hate you so much," he says in response because it's true, and oh, God, how the hell is this his life?
Steve flashes him a bright smile and waves the keys to his truck at Danny, taunting him with the fact that his vehicle is not a heap of bent and twisted broken metal at the bottom of a cliff. "Food, my treat?"
Danny's eyes narrow because that's just another one of Steve's filthy lies, but he's tired and hungry and somehow still alive. Still, this is Steve, so. "Wallet," he says, crossing his arms. He's not about to get something to eat with Steve after the day he's had without proof the man has money on him.
Steve raises an eyebrow, but complies. Like the asshole he is, he messes with Danny by making sure to use slow, careful motions as he pulls his wallet out and holds it up, bills neatly tucked inside.
"Good enough?" he asks, flipping his wallet shut and sliding it back into his pocket.
Danny shakes his head. Steve has to be just as tired and aching as Danny is, a bruise bruise darkening his cheek from a lucky blow one of the suspects got in, and, okay. Yes. Good enough for now. "Why not.”
"That's the spirit, Danno," Steve says, falling into step with him. "It's not like this day could get any worse."
Danny winces and looks over at Steve who probably has no idea he's just jinxed whatever chance they had at having an incident free dinner. He'd like to point out Steve is an idiot who clearly, clearly delights in making Danny's life more difficult than it needs to be by involving him in completely unnecessary shootouts and car chases and a whole list of life-threatening situations, but past experience tells him Steve won't listen.
"Hate you," he says instead, trying to infuse his words with the breadth and depth of his loathing of Steve. "So, so much."
"I know," Steve says, "You keep telling me."
Steve's smiling at him as though he knows exactly how much Danny doesn't actually hate him in spite of all the very real reasons he should.
Right there? That's his problem.
"Yeah, well." Danny doesn't have a good comeback to that. "I'm hoping one day it'll get through your thick skull."
“Maybe,” Steve agrees, still smiling at Danny as he pushes the door to the parking lot open. “Stranger things have happened.”
Posted at http://kitsune-tsuki.dreamwidth.org/328514.html. | You can reply here or there. |
Author:
kitsune_tsuki
Rating: PG
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 1,256
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form do these characters belong to me.
Summary: The way Danny's life works is not the way other peoples' lives work. Other people have co-workers with a working understanding of what common sense is, and how it relates to, well, everything. Danny has Steve McGarrett.
Notes: Still bad at titling my fic. /o\
The way Danny's life works is not the way other peoples' lives work. Other people have co-workers with a working understanding of what common sense is, and how it relates to, well, everything. Danny has Steve McGarrett.
Right there, that's his problem.
"Okay, so," Danny says, surprised at the way he sounds calm and not at all like he'd love nothing better than to punch Steve in his stupid face. "We're trapped in this room, this," he pauses for dramatic effect since Steve doesn't seem to be giving their current situation the full amount of attention it deserves, "this deathtrap, and you're doing what, exactly?"
Steve is, in fact, digging through the various containers and boxes in their cozy little deathtrap and tossing aside things he evidently finds unacceptable.
"I'm listening," Steve mumbles, which is blatantly not true, and proves that Steve has never learned randomly throwing out lines like that is not a viable conversational tactic.
"I'm going to shoot you," Danny says, making a mental note to do just that as soon as they get free and he gets his hands on a gun. "I'm going to shoot you so much."
Steve chooses that moment to nod. "Uh-huh, sounds great, Danno."
Danny throws his hands up in the air and stalks away from Steve, grumbling under his breath.
====
====
Half an hour later Steve lays out what he's managed to scrounge up, poking and prodding them and obviously trying to come up with an escape plan.
"So what do we have, MacGyver?" Danny asks, genuinely curious as to how Steve plans to get them out of their current predicament with pieces of scrap metal and broken glass.
Steve looks up at him, frown deepening. "Who?"
There is no way Steve can't know who MacGyver is. There just isn't. "Seriously?" Danny asks. "Seriously. You, Mr. Science with the chemistry and whatnot, you don't know who MacGyver is."
"What?" Steve has the slightly pissy look on his face, which means he actually, seriously doesn't know who MacGyver is, and that just. Wait, no. It explains so, so much about Steve and his tendencies towards violent resolutions where possible, as opposed to MacGyver's usual methods.
Danny cocks his head to the side and just looks at Steve. They've been locked in a tiny storage room for over an hour by a bunch of semi-competent criminals, and Steve is tired and frustrated. With the assholes who'd caught them snooping around their suspected base of operations, with themselves for not being as alert as they should have been, but mostly with himself because Steve's a SEAL, and apparently shit like this doesn't happen to them.
And even though Steve may be having personal issues with being caught out by people with a passing acquaintance with competence, they have been relieved of their weapons, including Steve's knives.
(And, really, the fact that Danny has to use the plural form in that instance also says so much about Steve.)
"Later," Danny says, flapping a hand at Steve. "Later we will talk about all the ways your life could have turned out differently if only you'd had MacGyver as a role model as a kid and not, like, Rambo."
Danny's a dad. He knows all about the statistics and research regarding the importance of positive role models on kids and how they'll turn out to be juvenile delinquents and criminals, or, worse, Steve, if they're exposed to the wrong sort of influences at an early age.
Steve snorts and turns his attention back to the sad, sad little collection he's put together. "Rambo's Army, Danno," he says dismissively, a little twist to his mouth Danny is all too familiar with.
"Yeah, okay," Danny says, not willing to re-hash the inter-service rivalry thing with Steve again. "You find anything useful?"
Steve shrugs, sliding a small piece of metal to one side. "Maybe," he says, looking up at the door.
Danny follows his gaze, and then looks back down at the piece of metal Steve singled out. The room they're locked in wasn't meant to keep people inside, so there's just a simple lock on the door. The door that happens to open inwards, which means the hinges are on their side of the door.
"Hinges?" Danny asks, when Steve picks up the piece of metal and tests to see how strong it is.
Steve looks at him and smiles. "Hinges."
====
====
They never really have the MacGyver vs Rambo as suitable role models talk, but that's fine with Danny because he's too busy bemoaning the fate of his car, now riddled with bullets and also, at the bottom of a rocky cliff.
"Kneecaps," he says, scowling at Steve who doesn't seem all that bothered by Danny's threats. "I'm going to shoot your fucking kneecaps."
Steve rolls his eyes like he seriously thinks Danny won't do it. "Come on, if we leave now Kono will take care of the paperwork."
It's not so much Kono will take care of the paperwork as it is Kono will kill them if she has to deal with them much longer. "I hate you so much," he says in response because it's true, and oh, God, how the hell is this his life?
Steve flashes him a bright smile and waves the keys to his truck at Danny, taunting him with the fact that his vehicle is not a heap of bent and twisted broken metal at the bottom of a cliff. "Food, my treat?"
Danny's eyes narrow because that's just another one of Steve's filthy lies, but he's tired and hungry and somehow still alive. Still, this is Steve, so. "Wallet," he says, crossing his arms. He's not about to get something to eat with Steve after the day he's had without proof the man has money on him.
Steve raises an eyebrow, but complies. Like the asshole he is, he messes with Danny by making sure to use slow, careful motions as he pulls his wallet out and holds it up, bills neatly tucked inside.
"Good enough?" he asks, flipping his wallet shut and sliding it back into his pocket.
Danny shakes his head. Steve has to be just as tired and aching as Danny is, a bruise bruise darkening his cheek from a lucky blow one of the suspects got in, and, okay. Yes. Good enough for now. "Why not.”
"That's the spirit, Danno," Steve says, falling into step with him. "It's not like this day could get any worse."
Danny winces and looks over at Steve who probably has no idea he's just jinxed whatever chance they had at having an incident free dinner. He'd like to point out Steve is an idiot who clearly, clearly delights in making Danny's life more difficult than it needs to be by involving him in completely unnecessary shootouts and car chases and a whole list of life-threatening situations, but past experience tells him Steve won't listen.
"Hate you," he says instead, trying to infuse his words with the breadth and depth of his loathing of Steve. "So, so much."
"I know," Steve says, "You keep telling me."
Steve's smiling at him as though he knows exactly how much Danny doesn't actually hate him in spite of all the very real reasons he should.
Right there? That's his problem.
"Yeah, well." Danny doesn't have a good comeback to that. "I'm hoping one day it'll get through your thick skull."
“Maybe,” Steve agrees, still smiling at Danny as he pushes the door to the parking lot open. “Stranger things have happened.”
Posted at http://kitsune-tsuki.dreamwidth.org/328514.html. | You can reply here or there. |