I am like. Bored. Also, scouring the internets (or, really, Googling like a mofo) looking for recipes of new and exciting dishes using what foodstuffs I have areound the house. ...And now I am hungry because I want to eat ALL the food, but that would be impossible because, well. ALL the food. Also, I'm lazy and this cooking thing is not going to happen tonight. My life, so hard. :(
In addition, here is something I wrote from that time Danny realized his team thinks they're superheroes or some shit. I don't even know what I was thinking at the time because I was sleep-deprived and kind of crazycakes.
Danny has a healthy relationship with the world of comic books, so the day he realizes his life has somehow magically turned into one isn't as shocking as it could have been. Or. Something. He doesn't know, really, just that -
"Oh, Jesus Christ," he mutters, staring at the floor plans to the building Steve and Kono are planning on storming in the name of truth, justice, and the chance to make something explode. "How did I not see this earlier?"
"What?"
Danny looks up at Steve. Thankfully Steve isn't wearing some hideous, brightly colored costume, but it's not like the face paint is much of an improvement. He's going into a building located in the heart of the city for the love of God, not the damn jungle.
"Nothing," Danny says, knowing anything he has to say on the subject will be taken seriously at this point in time. "Walk me through this one more time?" He's positive Steve's plan is a horrible one doomed to end in fire, if not an actual explosion, but they don't have a better option.
Also, in the spirit (lol, puns!) of Halloween-ish things, something I started last year that's been sitting around in my WiP folder gathering dust.
So...Danny may have lied, just a little bit, about why he moved to Hawaii.
He says he did it to be close to Grace. (Not a lie.) The things he leaves out though? Completely not his fault.
Seriously.
He tells people he and Rachel are divorced. He tells people Rachel married Step-Stan. These are the things he tells them. What they hear? How they decide to fill in the blanks when he talks to Rachel or that blood-sucking lawyer of hers? Not his fault. What they think when he lets his phone go to voice-mail when he isn't in the mood or literally can't afford to be distracted because Steve is trying out a new way to get them spectacularly dead? Not his fault, he can't stress that part enough.
(Almost not a lie.)
The reason Rachel left, the reason Rachel met Step-Stan, married Step-Stan, and moved to Hawaii? Possibly due to a haunted house, two very sketchy FBI agents and things Danny never wants to think about ever again.
(There's a little bit more in there somewhere, but, well. Mainly it was the haunted house and what happened there.)
So imagine his surprise, his unending dismay, when he realizes Steve's house is fucking haunted.
Steve's out of it, dead to the world thanks to the best painkiller's the hospital could provide and a really lucky fucking shot from someone Danny seriously hopes is enjoying his brand new concussion courtesy of Kono. Steve's out of it, and Danny, angry at Steve for being Steve somehow finds himself in the garage and a second away from a hear attack when he realizes the guy standing next to the car Steve's been working on is Steve's father.
"Mr. McGarrett?"
And, okay, Danny's not exactly firing on all cylinders, but he at least has manners, unlike some people he could name.
John McGarrett stares at him while Danny tries and fails to remember everything a couple of really, really sketchy FBI agents operating under the name of dead rock stars had let slip when it came to things like. Well, like this. John doesn't seem especially angry, or restless or anything else that would indicate he's a tormented soul, but it's not like Danny's an expert. If anything, John McGarrett seems almost amused.
Danny's trying to figure out if that's a good thing or a bad thing, John watching him with an expression that seems a little too familiar, and not just because of any family resemblance between him and Steve, when he hears footsteps behind him.
"Danno?"
Danny looks around to see Steve leaning against the door frame, tired and drugged stupid. He wants to ask if Steve can see his father, but, well. That would be all kinds of crazy, and Danny's pretty sure that's supposed to be Steve's thing.
"What the hell are you doing up?" Danny asks, and pretends he doesn't notice the way he can see his breath even though this is Hawaii and not, say, New Jersey.
"Are you an idiot?" Danny doesn't wait for Steve's reply because he knows the answer. People all over the world know the answer. "No, don't even bother," Danny says when Steve makes an effort to look indignant and sort of lands somewhere around confused. "Go lay down, get some rest. Sleep. Something, just. God. You look like shit."
Danny's not really at his best when faced with the possible ghost of his partner's father. To be fair, he's not sure most people would be either, but whatever.
"I'm fine - " Steve starts, annoyed, irritated, but since he had to go and get his stupid self shot, Danny doesn't really give a shit.
"Yeah," Danny says, forgetting about the ghost of John McGarrett because that's not his biggest concern at the moment with Steve looking like he's about to keel over. "I'm having a hard time believing that right now for some reason. You wouldn't happen to know why that is, would you?"
Steve makes a face, but doesn't offer any resistance when Danny moves to his side and helps him back into the the house, bitching at him for being the special kind of idiot who doesn't know how to take care of himself even though he should because he's a grown man, for God's sake.
"We are going to have words," Danny says, looking up at Steve and his stupid face. "Me and you. Tomorrow, when you don't look like a stiff wind could knock you over." Danny glares when Steve rolls his eyes. "We are going to have words about you and your ability to attract violence and bullets and things that explode like there's no tomorrow, and you are going to listen because otherwise I will punch you in your face."
Counterproductive, perhaps, but it will go a long way in making Danny feel better.
As they clear the doorway to the garage, Danny takes a look over his shoulder and catches the faint curve of a smile on John's face before he vanishes.
"Danno?" Steve sounds concerned, like maybe Danny's the one who needs looking after, which. Ha.
"Shut up," Danny says. "Tomorrow, remember? We will have words then. Tonight is for resting and sleeping."
Steve sighs, but there's more than a hint of fondness in it, just like Danny knows there's more than a hint of fondness in his own voice when it comes to Steve.
"Fine, fine," Steve mutters, leaning more heavily on Danny than he really needs to because he's an asshole like that.
Danny gets him back with an elbow or two in his side along the way as they make their way back inside because he's perfectly capable of being that kind of asshole too which is probably a sign of something, but Danny's not sure what.
(Not true, but not exactly a lie, either. Steve confuses the shit out of Danny all the time.)
"Ow, Jesus," Steve gripes. "Where did you get your bedside manner, out of a Cracker Jack box?"
"Shut your face," Danny says, more relieved than he can say that Steve's still there to bitch and be his usual charming brand of asshole.
There's more grumbling from Steve, but it gradually fades away to companionable silence, or what passes for it between them by the time Danny gets him back to his room and settled in his bed. Steve looks paler than usual, but he's still alive and stupid and Steve and that's really all Danny can hope for at the end of the day.
"Get some sleep," Danny says, even though he can tell Steve's already more than halfway there. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."
Steve smiles at him, tired, sleepy, stupid. "Yeah," he says, like he wasn't expecting anything else. “I know."
Danny should probably say something about Steve making assumptions like that, but it's a little late in the game for something like that and they both know it. “Of course you do,” Danny says, rolling his eyes. “Good night princess, don't let the bedbugs bite.”
Steve snorts, arm curling around a pillow as Danny lets himself out of the room and heads downstairs for well deserved sleep of his own.
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