Hostage (1/1)
Title: Hostage
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: H50
Characters: Steve/Danny, Grace, Mary
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for the 'hostage' ficlet challenge at hawaii50_land. I actually won first place :)
Summary: “You’re the talker here,” Steve hisses, crouched low behind the couch. He glances at Danny, whose eyes are narrowed.
“I’m the talker, Steven, is that what you just said? Like I can talk us out of this, magically, like there’s some sort of magical phrase that will make this stop-”
“You’re the talker here,” Steve hisses, crouched low behind the couch. He glances at Danny, whose eyes are narrowed.
“I’m the talker, Steven, is that what you just said? Like I can talk us out of this, magically, like there’s some sort of magical phrase that will make this stop-”
“Just-” Steve gestures towards the other side of the couch. “Fix it, Danny, God. Please.”
It is Mary and Grace, who are sitting on the floor on the other side of the couch, playing with the Barbie dolls that Grace brought with her from Rachel’s. There are six of them in various states of undress across the floor, blonde hair spread like a fan, and Danny’s eyes widen as he peeks around the couch. Mary’s got one in her hands, and she’s pulling the little pink jacket off of it and-
God, it’s worse than he thought. Danny quickly pulls his head back behind the couch.
“Breaker,” he says in a defeated tone, “she’s got Breaker-”
“Danno,” Steve says, whispering harshly into Danny’s ear. “You have to do something, they have my G. I. Joes, they’re holding them hostage, they’re putting sparkly clothing on them-”
“Breathe,” Danny orders, sticking his head back around the couch. Grace is wedging Breaker’s arms into something that’s yellow, and - oh, sweet mother of mercy, it’s a dress. With cartoon bananas on it.
He pulls his head back behind the couch.
“We need a plan,” he decides, and Steve vehemently agrees.
They converse in low tones for a few minutes before nodding. Steve moves into position and takes another peek around the couch, but his head whips back quickly. He looks a little green.
"Torpedo," he whispers, "Torpedo, Danny, they're dressing Torpedo in a - and he's a SEAL, they're besmirching the good name of-"
"Besmirching?" Danny replies, forgetting to whisper, and the noise from the other side of the couch stops. Danny quickly lowers his voice. "Seriously, Steve, do not ever bitch about my use of the word 'ergo' again, are we clear?"
Steve gives him a distracted nod. "Torpedo." he whisper-moans, and Danny is caught between wanting to pat him on the arm in sympathy and wanting to laugh at him. He does neither, instead jerking his head to the side of the couch again and waiting for Steve to move back into position. Danny waits until he’s sure Steve isn't about to bolt again before taking a breath.
"Hey, Monkey," he calls cheerily, trying to sound like his voice is coming from the kitchen and probably failing miserably, "where are you?"
There's a lull in the sound from the other side of the couch again before Grace answers. "In the living room," she says slowly. "I’m on the other side of the couch, Danno."
"Ah," Danny replies. "Well. Um. Come here for a second?"
Mary cackles. “Go ahead, Gracie, see what he wants. I'll put the sparkly shoes on Torpedo."
"I hate you," Steve moans loudly as Danny finally cracks up.
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: H50
Characters: Steve/Danny, Grace, Mary
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for the 'hostage' ficlet challenge at hawaii50_land. I actually won first place :)
Summary: “You’re the talker here,” Steve hisses, crouched low behind the couch. He glances at Danny, whose eyes are narrowed.
“I’m the talker, Steven, is that what you just said? Like I can talk us out of this, magically, like there’s some sort of magical phrase that will make this stop-”
“You’re the talker here,” Steve hisses, crouched low behind the couch. He glances at Danny, whose eyes are narrowed.
“I’m the talker, Steven, is that what you just said? Like I can talk us out of this, magically, like there’s some sort of magical phrase that will make this stop-”
“Just-” Steve gestures towards the other side of the couch. “Fix it, Danny, God. Please.”
It is Mary and Grace, who are sitting on the floor on the other side of the couch, playing with the Barbie dolls that Grace brought with her from Rachel’s. There are six of them in various states of undress across the floor, blonde hair spread like a fan, and Danny’s eyes widen as he peeks around the couch. Mary’s got one in her hands, and she’s pulling the little pink jacket off of it and-
God, it’s worse than he thought. Danny quickly pulls his head back behind the couch.
“Breaker,” he says in a defeated tone, “she’s got Breaker-”
“Danno,” Steve says, whispering harshly into Danny’s ear. “You have to do something, they have my G. I. Joes, they’re holding them hostage, they’re putting sparkly clothing on them-”
“Breathe,” Danny orders, sticking his head back around the couch. Grace is wedging Breaker’s arms into something that’s yellow, and - oh, sweet mother of mercy, it’s a dress. With cartoon bananas on it.
He pulls his head back behind the couch.
“We need a plan,” he decides, and Steve vehemently agrees.
They converse in low tones for a few minutes before nodding. Steve moves into position and takes another peek around the couch, but his head whips back quickly. He looks a little green.
"Torpedo," he whispers, "Torpedo, Danny, they're dressing Torpedo in a - and he's a SEAL, they're besmirching the good name of-"
"Besmirching?" Danny replies, forgetting to whisper, and the noise from the other side of the couch stops. Danny quickly lowers his voice. "Seriously, Steve, do not ever bitch about my use of the word 'ergo' again, are we clear?"
Steve gives him a distracted nod. "Torpedo." he whisper-moans, and Danny is caught between wanting to pat him on the arm in sympathy and wanting to laugh at him. He does neither, instead jerking his head to the side of the couch again and waiting for Steve to move back into position. Danny waits until he’s sure Steve isn't about to bolt again before taking a breath.
"Hey, Monkey," he calls cheerily, trying to sound like his voice is coming from the kitchen and probably failing miserably, "where are you?"
There's a lull in the sound from the other side of the couch again before Grace answers. "In the living room," she says slowly. "I’m on the other side of the couch, Danno."
"Ah," Danny replies. "Well. Um. Come here for a second?"
Mary cackles. “Go ahead, Gracie, see what he wants. I'll put the sparkly shoes on Torpedo."
"I hate you," Steve moans loudly as Danny finally cracks up.