maybe I'll just post snippets out of order until I run out of fic, instead of posting it properly
So my government is fucked; I'm moving to Europe to seek asylum from the inevitable challenges to abortion, gay marriage, our country having money and my own sanity. My only recourse (besides holding up a bank for a plane ticket) is to post things about people in a government that never existed except in our hearts.
"McGarrett here; 8:13 and I have Badger." McGarrett nodded at Singh. "Have a good night," he said.
"See you, Mr. Williams," said Singh, leaving them with a wave.
"I really need to know," said Danny, crossing his arms and staring at McGarrett. "What the fuck is with 'Badger'? Whose funny idea of a joke was that?"
McGarrett shrugged with only his face. "That's been your code name since they changed them all six months ago, Mr. Williams. I don't remember who came up with it."
Danny narrowed his eyes. "A likely story."
"All I can say, Mr. Williams," said McGarrett, straightening the cuffs of his jacket, "is that whoever chose it knew you really well, and it wasn't me."
"Hey!" Danny growled.
"Um, Danny?"
Danny turned; it was Trevor, holding out a sacrificial coffee. Danny took it and resolved not to kill him yet. "Speak," he said, taking a sip. Black and strong, just as he liked it.
"Just. Uh." Trevor was uncharacteristically nervous, shooting little looks at McGarrett, who was watching them with some interest. "Bullpen huddle? We're kinda running behind."
"Jesus," said Danny. "It was the fucking traffic; my licensed-to-kill driver this morning took the most fucked-up route possible to get here." He stormed off to his office to dump his briefcase and jacket and grab a notebook for the meeting, forgetting all about McGarrett as he started barking orders at Trevor and the three other bullpen peons about summit preparations.
The rest of the morning was a clusterfuck of prep work for the summit, which was starting a week from Monday and which Danny had to meet with Gen. Donovan and the president about on Monday morning. Luckily for Danny, things were actually coming along. He took lunch at his desk--a pastrami on rye that he'd sent Trevor out for--and was taking his second bite while reading a journal article on the computer when McGarrett materialized in the doorway.
"You've been busy today," McGarrett observed as he wandered closer to Danny's desk and stood in parade rest.
"I dunno if you noticed," said Danny, putting down his sandwich, "but I work at the White House. I'm always busy."
McGarrett rolled his eyes. "I mean you seem busier than yesterday. Everyone out there is moving like you personally lit fires under their asses."
"I wish I actually had," said Danny, "but I didn't have that kind of time." He ate a potato chip and took a sip of coffee. "We're just getting down to the wire on this summit, and I have to have something to take to the Oval Office first thing Monday." He sat back in his chair and glared up at McGarrett, who was looming in a pleasant-looking kind of way for someone who was currently carrying a gun with the safety off.
"If you're going to hang around on my lunch break," said Danny, "can you please sit down? You're disrupting the energies in here."
"Energies?" said McGarrett, but he moved to the chair in front of the desk anyway, turning it a little so he could partially face the office door.
"Yeah, whatever, something like that," said Danny, waving a hand as he picked up his sandwich again. "So, do you take a lunch break?" he asked before taking another bite.
"No, sir, I don't."
Danny was chewing a mouthful, so he settled for glaring until he could swallow. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
"It was a yes-or-no question, Mr. Williams. I picked one of the possible answers."
"It was a rhetorical question, intended to start idle bullshit chit-chat about lunch," said Danny, "and why you are sitting there and watching me eat mine. Who the fuck doesn't take a lunch break at work?"
"I eat when I have downtime, Mr. Williams. When I'm on the clock, my job is to protect you and I can't take a break from that," said McGarrett far too reasonably.
Danny turned that over in his mind. "This isn't downtime?" he asked, indicating the room and his food and McGarrett's deceptively casual slouch in the chair across the desk.
"Someone could come in through the door or window as we speak," said McGarrett.
"Like who? Trevor?"
Trevor heard his name and looked up from his desk, where he was eating Twizzlers and writing memos. Danny waved him off and turned back to McGarrett.
"Like your special friend who necessitated my being here," said McGarrett.
"Bubba's not that special," said Danny.
McGarrett's confused look lasted only a second, and then he raised an eyebrow. "You named your stalker?"
"Okay," said Danny, "maybe he's a little bit special."
McGarrett opened his mouth but seemed to think better of answering. After a second he changed the subject, shifting in his seat. "So you're spending tomorrow with your daughter," he said.
"I get her for weekends," agreed Danny.
"What's your planned schedule?"
"Uh," said Danny. "Plans?"
"Yeah. Planned days with your kid? You do those, right?"
"Well, not exactly plan."
McGarrett stared at him for a second, something faintly twitching in his jaw. "Okay," he said. "This will be a great opportunity for you to start."
"Why do you care?" asked Danny.
"Because I'm going to be on duty from eight to four again tomorrow."
Danny sighed. "Okay. I usually pick her up at her mom's around nine-thirty, ten. We go for pancakes. And then, whatever."
"Whatever?"
"I don't know, it varies," said Danny. "It was nice out this morning, right?" He turned his head briefly to peer at the window but the blinds were closed, as usual. "If it's nice tomorrow, then maybe we'll go to the park. It'll be getting cold soon, anyway."
"It's almost October," said McGarrett. "It's already cold."
"Oh, that's right," said Danny. "Agent Kelly said you were from Hawaii."
"Agent Kelly likes to share," said McGarrett.
"I like that about him. He also told me you got him his job and that you were in the army."
"Navy," McGarrett hissed.
"Yeah," said Danny. "And I said that explains a lot about you."
"I was in the Navy SEALs before I joined the Service."
"Jesus. They let people that crazy near the president?"
"I wouldn't say crazy. Resourceful, maybe."
"I have met countless people in the Special Forces," said Danny, "and every single one of them was, without exception, bugfuck crazy."
"Well, it's a good thing I'm on your side, isn't it, Mr. Williams?"
Danny took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly, never looking away from McGarrett; it didn't seem safe. McGarrett stared back silently for a moment and then shifted in his chair to stare out the door at the bullpen and hallway beyond.
Danny rolled his eyes and reached out to nudge his chip bag across the desk, turning the open end to face McGarrett. "Eat something, you android," he snapped when McGarrett raised an eyebrow at him.
The eyebrow stayed raised as McGarrett obediently plucked a potato chip out of the bag and leaned back in the chair to chew it, noisily.
Danny turned irritably back to his journal article.
This entry was originally posted at http://waketosleep.dreamwidth.org/46509.html. (
comments)
"McGarrett here; 8:13 and I have Badger." McGarrett nodded at Singh. "Have a good night," he said.
"See you, Mr. Williams," said Singh, leaving them with a wave.
"I really need to know," said Danny, crossing his arms and staring at McGarrett. "What the fuck is with 'Badger'? Whose funny idea of a joke was that?"
McGarrett shrugged with only his face. "That's been your code name since they changed them all six months ago, Mr. Williams. I don't remember who came up with it."
Danny narrowed his eyes. "A likely story."
"All I can say, Mr. Williams," said McGarrett, straightening the cuffs of his jacket, "is that whoever chose it knew you really well, and it wasn't me."
"Hey!" Danny growled.
"Um, Danny?"
Danny turned; it was Trevor, holding out a sacrificial coffee. Danny took it and resolved not to kill him yet. "Speak," he said, taking a sip. Black and strong, just as he liked it.
"Just. Uh." Trevor was uncharacteristically nervous, shooting little looks at McGarrett, who was watching them with some interest. "Bullpen huddle? We're kinda running behind."
"Jesus," said Danny. "It was the fucking traffic; my licensed-to-kill driver this morning took the most fucked-up route possible to get here." He stormed off to his office to dump his briefcase and jacket and grab a notebook for the meeting, forgetting all about McGarrett as he started barking orders at Trevor and the three other bullpen peons about summit preparations.
The rest of the morning was a clusterfuck of prep work for the summit, which was starting a week from Monday and which Danny had to meet with Gen. Donovan and the president about on Monday morning. Luckily for Danny, things were actually coming along. He took lunch at his desk--a pastrami on rye that he'd sent Trevor out for--and was taking his second bite while reading a journal article on the computer when McGarrett materialized in the doorway.
"You've been busy today," McGarrett observed as he wandered closer to Danny's desk and stood in parade rest.
"I dunno if you noticed," said Danny, putting down his sandwich, "but I work at the White House. I'm always busy."
McGarrett rolled his eyes. "I mean you seem busier than yesterday. Everyone out there is moving like you personally lit fires under their asses."
"I wish I actually had," said Danny, "but I didn't have that kind of time." He ate a potato chip and took a sip of coffee. "We're just getting down to the wire on this summit, and I have to have something to take to the Oval Office first thing Monday." He sat back in his chair and glared up at McGarrett, who was looming in a pleasant-looking kind of way for someone who was currently carrying a gun with the safety off.
"If you're going to hang around on my lunch break," said Danny, "can you please sit down? You're disrupting the energies in here."
"Energies?" said McGarrett, but he moved to the chair in front of the desk anyway, turning it a little so he could partially face the office door.
"Yeah, whatever, something like that," said Danny, waving a hand as he picked up his sandwich again. "So, do you take a lunch break?" he asked before taking another bite.
"No, sir, I don't."
Danny was chewing a mouthful, so he settled for glaring until he could swallow. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
"It was a yes-or-no question, Mr. Williams. I picked one of the possible answers."
"It was a rhetorical question, intended to start idle bullshit chit-chat about lunch," said Danny, "and why you are sitting there and watching me eat mine. Who the fuck doesn't take a lunch break at work?"
"I eat when I have downtime, Mr. Williams. When I'm on the clock, my job is to protect you and I can't take a break from that," said McGarrett far too reasonably.
Danny turned that over in his mind. "This isn't downtime?" he asked, indicating the room and his food and McGarrett's deceptively casual slouch in the chair across the desk.
"Someone could come in through the door or window as we speak," said McGarrett.
"Like who? Trevor?"
Trevor heard his name and looked up from his desk, where he was eating Twizzlers and writing memos. Danny waved him off and turned back to McGarrett.
"Like your special friend who necessitated my being here," said McGarrett.
"Bubba's not that special," said Danny.
McGarrett's confused look lasted only a second, and then he raised an eyebrow. "You named your stalker?"
"Okay," said Danny, "maybe he's a little bit special."
McGarrett opened his mouth but seemed to think better of answering. After a second he changed the subject, shifting in his seat. "So you're spending tomorrow with your daughter," he said.
"I get her for weekends," agreed Danny.
"What's your planned schedule?"
"Uh," said Danny. "Plans?"
"Yeah. Planned days with your kid? You do those, right?"
"Well, not exactly plan."
McGarrett stared at him for a second, something faintly twitching in his jaw. "Okay," he said. "This will be a great opportunity for you to start."
"Why do you care?" asked Danny.
"Because I'm going to be on duty from eight to four again tomorrow."
Danny sighed. "Okay. I usually pick her up at her mom's around nine-thirty, ten. We go for pancakes. And then, whatever."
"Whatever?"
"I don't know, it varies," said Danny. "It was nice out this morning, right?" He turned his head briefly to peer at the window but the blinds were closed, as usual. "If it's nice tomorrow, then maybe we'll go to the park. It'll be getting cold soon, anyway."
"It's almost October," said McGarrett. "It's already cold."
"Oh, that's right," said Danny. "Agent Kelly said you were from Hawaii."
"Agent Kelly likes to share," said McGarrett.
"I like that about him. He also told me you got him his job and that you were in the army."
"Navy," McGarrett hissed.
"Yeah," said Danny. "And I said that explains a lot about you."
"I was in the Navy SEALs before I joined the Service."
"Jesus. They let people that crazy near the president?"
"I wouldn't say crazy. Resourceful, maybe."
"I have met countless people in the Special Forces," said Danny, "and every single one of them was, without exception, bugfuck crazy."
"Well, it's a good thing I'm on your side, isn't it, Mr. Williams?"
Danny took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly, never looking away from McGarrett; it didn't seem safe. McGarrett stared back silently for a moment and then shifted in his chair to stare out the door at the bullpen and hallway beyond.
Danny rolled his eyes and reached out to nudge his chip bag across the desk, turning the open end to face McGarrett. "Eat something, you android," he snapped when McGarrett raised an eyebrow at him.
The eyebrow stayed raised as McGarrett obediently plucked a potato chip out of the bag and leaned back in the chair to chew it, noisily.
Danny turned irritably back to his journal article.
This entry was originally posted at http://waketosleep.dreamwidth.org/46509.html. (
comments)