SEALed with a Kiss: Two
Surveillance sucked ass.
At least the rest of the team was doing something productive: Chin was remotely monitoring the goings on in the suspect’s room, Jenna was poring over the evidence they’d already collected, and Kono was coordinating their point of attack with HPD, all of them marking time at HQ and waiting for just the right moment to strike, while Steve McGarrett, their freakin’ boss, had been relegated to stakeout duty with Weston. Like they were punishing him for his snippy mood all of last week or something.
By giving him a fucking time-out.
Steve gritted his teeth and eased off on the white-knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel; he couldn’t even remember when he’d put his hands there. It was almost as if his hind brain was gearing up to drive right through the hotel lobby and up to the suspect’s room, which would’ve been a feat considering the room was on the penthouse floor. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing steadily through his nose, trying to achieve some form of tranquility and defuse the tension in his body, but the pain refused to abate.
It had started with a dull ache somewhere in the back of his neck, but after five hours in the car with Weston, Lori, formerly an officer with Homeland Security, and currently, ostensibly, Steve’s Governor-appointed partner - as if she even knew the meaning of the word - his headache was full-blown and throbbing dangerously, like someone had stuffed a stun grenade into his skull and pulled the pin, and if he had to endure another hour of deafening silence in what should be the raucous confines of the Camaro, Steve was going to explode like said grenade.
Chin’s tentative green light (okay, so it had been more like amber…with shades of red) was all it’d taken for Steve to get moving; no judge would ever convict him for doing what needed to get done to take these drugrunners down, especially considering that they’d gotten a very large haul of cocaine off the streets. Besides, he was pretty sure the hotel’s insurance policy would cover the more or less (depending on your perspective) minor damage inflicted on the suite.
Forty-five minutes later, he was back in the car and stepping on the gas before Weston could even slam her door shut, and with a screech of rubber on asphalt, he broke a couple of land speed records and got them back to HQ with his sanity intact.
Weston remained supremely unruffled as usual as she walked inside with him, easily matching his usual clipped pace without complaining or pausing for breath. “I still don’t understand what I did wrong, Commander,” she insisted on saying, picking up the reins of the conversation they’d probably started on, oh, her first day on the job. “I did exactly what you would’ve done - and did do - in the same situation.”
Her indifference made Steve want to bang his head against a brick wall. God, is this what Danny’d had to deal with, with him? He suppressed a shudder and focused his fury on Weston. “You were supposed to call for back-up first.”
“I did. HPD and CSI were standing by. Book, seize and process.”
“Chin and Kono,” Steve gritted out. “They are our back-up. Like first responders, they get the call first. Why is that so hard to understand?”
“As per my directive, I’m supposed to notify HPD first, and since Kono was briefing them…”
“Your directive,” Steve growled, “is to do as I say. Period.”
“With all due respect, Commander, I work for the Lieutenant Governor.”
Steve glared at her and she glared right back; respectfully, of course. The nerve right behind the orbit of his right eye throbbed painfully, so he took a deep breath to calm himself. “Just go write up your report,” he ordered with exaggerated ease, “and this time, don’t ‘forget’ to let me see it first.”
“I’m not required…”
“As long as you work for…with me,” Steve snarled, his tone deathly serious, “you’re required.”
“Commander,” Weston huffed, as if she was the one who was being inconvenienced by all this bullshit he had to put up with, “it is not my fault that there were inconsistencies in the reports we filed last week.”
“Then whose fault was it?” Weston stared pointedly at him, and Steve resisted the urge to ram his fist through a nearby wall. He counted backwards from ten - slowly, twice- before speaking again. “You do not need to put every little detail into those reports, Weston. For example, take our stakeout today. All you need to note is that we were…casing the perimeter…and we heard a distant sound of distress through the door, announced our presence, and entered the domicile. It is called ‘probable cause to enter’ and law enforcement officers use it all the time.”
“Those suites on the VIP floor are soundproofed. We didn’t hear or see anything. You just deduced that it was a steel door that couldn’t be kicked in manually and you didn’t have a battering ram handy, so you grabbed the axe from the fire safety box in the hallway and hacked away at the doorframe until you could kick the door open and…”
“Details! Details that do not need to go into the report!”
“You almost strangled the suspect with the fire hose from the hallway.”
“It wasn’t strangling, I was subduing the suspect! He was trying to run!” Steve ranted, this close to pulling his own hair out because how many times had they had this same fucking discussion? “Listen, Weston - boring bureaucratic types do not need to know little details. I keep trying to tell you: Read Danny’s old reports and fill your reports in accordingly. Why can’t you just do that? Is that so difficult? Does that require a degree in English? No, right? I didn’t think so! Just do what Danny did!”
“I think that might require a degree in Creative Writing.” Weston pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as she peered up at him with a laser-like focus that meant she had a rock-solid counterargument and Steve was about to be screwed. “One of Detective Williams’ reports stated that a person of interest was apprehended for questioning when the door he had barred was opened with ‘due force.’”
“That sounds like a reasonable description of events…”
“Commander, you threw a grenade in there.”
“I didn’t throw it, I hooked it on the doorknob. What’s your point?”
“You don’t see the discrepancy between ‘due force’ and lobbing a grenade into someone’s place of business? Because I can assure you, Governor Denning does.”
“Semantics!”
“I’m not going to lie, Commander,” Weston stated in that annoyingly calm manner of hers. Did nothing ever set this woman off? Jesus, would it kill her to show a little emotion?
“I’m not asking you to lie, Weston.”
“Well, I’m not going to embellish the truth either.”
Steve groaned. “I’m not asking you to… God, how is this my life?” He threw up his hands in disgust. “All I’m asking is that you tone down the truth.” He nodded to himself; that’s exactly how Danny would put it. “Yeah, that’s what I’m asking. Dial it down a notch. Give them the truth but on a need-to-know basis. They don’t need to know about grenades and axes and one of the many uses of fire hoses. Danny understood this. Intuitively. Why can’t you?”
“Because I’m not Detective Williams.” Weston looked at him like he was something unpleasant that she had found stuck to the bottom of her combat boot. “You need to let him go.”
“No. You need to be more like him,” Steve told her without preamble, his index finger jabbing the air in front of her face. “Here’s an idea: why don’t you call him and get some pointers?”
“Call him in New Jersey?” Weston blinked at him like he was the idiot in this scenario.
Steve snapped; both his tone and his patience. “Yes, dammit!” he roared. “You need his help! I will pay for it!”
Before he could slam into his office - metaphorically, because you couldn’t slam jackshit with those heavy glass doors literally - the sound of familiar male laughter stopped him dead in his tracks; he’d know that sound anywhere.
Danny.
Steve turned slowly, sure that if he moved too fast, that sound would disappear, certain that he was imagining things. But no… There stood Danny, right by the tech table, just like before - except without the tie - flanked by Chin and Kono and Jenna, all of whom were laughing, looking happier and more relaxed than he’d seen them in a long while, none of them looking all that put out at being left out of the drug bust.
Danny. Bent over, almost doubled at the waist as he laughed, his eyes crinkled up in the corners, scrunched shut as he clapped his hands and hooted and straightened back up, pointing at Steve and laughing some more.
“That, my friend,” he gasped, clutching his stomach, “is what I call karma! And it’s kicking your ass, baby!”
“Danno…” Steve said when he could speak again, when Danny’s laughter had subsided into husky chuckles and he’d wiped the tears that had slipped out the corners of his eyes. He still couldn’t believe it. Danny…was here. In Hawai’i. And not in Jersey, and shit, maybe that’s why he’d been so elusive and unavailable this past week every time Steve had tried to call him to have a conversation that was more than five fucking minutes long.
Danny’s blue eyes actually fucking twinkled. He winked. “Steven.”
Steve was fairly certain a dorky, delighted smile was forming on his face right about then. “You’re back…”
“On vacation…”
“But you’re back.” Steve insisted, needing to know, because he was grinning like a loon but he still couldn’t get his body to move, and he really, really wanted a hug, but he suddenly didn’t know how to get one, or whether Danny would even give him one, and then it didn’t matter much because Danny was talking again, and Jesus, he’d missed the sound of his voice, live and in person.
“I’m back,” Danny confirmed, “though for how long, I don’t know yet.”
Steve immediately decided he’d do whatever it took to make sure Danny’s stay lasted as long as possible. Forever, if he could. He vaguely wondered if kidnapping was a viable option in this sort of scenario. “How’s Grace? Is she here?” Steve knew it was stupid but he still couldn’t help looking around for her.
Danny smirked. “Well, not here here. She’s with Rachel. Who is with Stan. Who is back in her good graces.”
Comprehension dawned on Steve. “Oh! She’s telling him the…”
“She didn’t want to do it over the phone…”
“Gotcha.”
“Yeah.”
“Enough said. When’d you get here?”
“A few minutes before you got here and gave us that awesome show.” Danny grinned; Steve felt that if he’d been standing any closer, Danny’d be poking him in the chest right about now, just to emphasize his point. Steve really wanted to be poked in the chest, but there was still that pesky little problem of him not being able to move. “Steve, you are a man of many talents, my friend. I had no idea you could gesticulate like that. I must’ve rubbed off on you. Also? What the hell, you brute, you axed someone’s door open?”
Steve bit his lip. “So you heard about the…”
“Yes, Steven, I heard. I’m pretty sure people on the mainland heard about your improper use of fire hoses.” Danny huffed, but there was no heat in the sound. “Honest to God, when will you learn?”
“Aw, come on, Danno, I had to!”
“I’ll just bet.” His ex-partner rolled his eyes. “Let me clarify for the class: There is improvisation, and then there is the batshit stuff you do. It’s called insanity, pal, and it is not a good thing.”
“Sometimes it’s a good thing.” Steve couldn’t help the burst of happiness spreading warmth through his chest. “Hey! You want some coffee? Maybe a malasada or two? I’ll go get it! Then you can yell at me all you want!”
Danny just looked at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the kind of smile that meant Steve had said or done exactly the right thing for once. “I want the ones with the…”
“Those are so bad for your health. Well, worse, actually… Grace’ll have my hide…”
“Steve, I am a grown man…”
“Half grown. On a good day, when your knee’s not acting up and you’re all hunched over,” Steve couldn’t help but quip; Danny blithely ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken.
“…if I want a cream-filled malasada…”
“Fine, I’ll go get them. You can explain your elevated cholesterol levels to your daughter.” Steve patted his pocket to make sure he had the keys to the car and turned to leave, pausing for a second to point at Danny. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay.”
“I’m not a dog, McGarrett. And here I thought we were making strides on your people skills.”
“Please. Not an inch, Danno. Don’t…”
“My malasadas ain’t gonna get themselves, Steve.”
“Ten minutes,” Steve called out from the main doors, but seeing Danny’s face contort in righteous indignation, he corrected himself. “Okay, okay! Twenty!”
“Stick to the speed limit, McGarrett; I swear to God if anything happens to my malasadas…”
“I’ll guard them with my life!”
“Speed limit!”
“Stay!”
Steve made it back in eight minutes and forty-seven seconds. What? He knows people, okay? And if some of those people can go get Danny’s second favorite pastries and meet Steve halfway with them, then Steve can take care of a parking ticket or two for some of those people.
Also, that’s what sirens and flashing lights were for: emergencies.
And, note to self, find out where Chin got those cocoa puff things Danny waxed orgasmic over, and maybe buy shares in the bakery, because that might entice Danny to stick around in a way that nothing else could. Plus, Steve wouldn’t get charged with a kidnapping felony. Bonus.
Steve walked back into HQ to find Danny chatting with his team and Weston, all of them seated around their conference table. In fact, Danny was laughing and smiling and talking to Weston as if they were already friends, good friends, the kind of friends who maybe commiserated together about a certain mutual partner they’d had to put up with. Steve didn’t like it; he didn’t like it one bit. And Jesus, who knew Weston could even smile? He sure as hell hadn’t seen evidence of that since he’d been forced to take her on; he’d even had the urge, once or twice, to check for a pulse.
“Oh my God…”
Steve sank into the empty seat at Danny’s side and smirked at his surprise. “I have my ways.”
“Do those ways involve Star Trek technology? Can you teleport, Steve? Or is that more classified Army intel?”
“Navy, Danno. I was in the Navy. And don’t be silly; if I could teleport, I’d’ve been here sooner.”
“My car better still be in one piece, McGarrett.”
“Give or take a dent or two.”
“Define ‘a dent or two.’”
Steve grinned at the way Danny’s hands sliced the air. “Why are you getting all bent outta shape? You gave her to me when you left.”
“On the condition that you would treat her like a lady!”
“I do.” Steve grinned a little lecherously. “Wham. Bam. Thank you, ma’am.”
“You, sir, are an animal,” Danny groused, reaching out for the box of malasadas and picking the biggest one before passing the box around the table. “How are you not dead yet? Seriously, how has Rollins not killed you for that cavalier attitude of yours?”
“Chicks dig my cavalier attitude,” Steve bragged, and then bit his lip and lowered his voice, mumbling, “’sides, Cath and I… We don’t do that thing we used to do any more.”
“You don’t? Huh.” Danny pursed his lips as he studied him, those beady blue eyes boring into his soul with deadly precision, in the way that only Danny could get away with, because he was the only one Steve ever let get that close. “Gimme my coffee.”
“Here you go, cream puff.”
“Jackass,” Danny mumbled around a huge bite of his malasada. “Hey, did you make any headway with the Stamatos case?”
“Yeah, that’s where we were…”
“That was Gibson’s door you axed? Okay, now, you have my stamp of approval. And?”
“Your instincts panned out. You’ve still got the best nose out there, Danno.”
“It’s a gift, what can I say?”
“Most of the drugs were on site, but it looks like they moved some of it already.”
“You get anything outta him yet?”
Steve shook his head. “Just had HPD book him; I need to get him to talk before he decides to lawyer up. Nick Stamatos has his fingers in too many pies; we need to catch a break to get him and Gibson’s our best bet.”
“Well, from what you’ve told me, Gibson’s not stupid enough to clam up this early in the game, even if he does call in his legal eagle; he’ll wanna show good faith and ‘cooperate’ ‘cause he knows you’ve got him dead to rights.” Danny chewed thoughtfully and took a sip of his coffee. “I say you let him stew for a bit.”
“Not an option,” Steve told him, “we need to find the rest of that shipment. Stamatos may lay low for a while now that we got his right hand man, but it won’t be for long.”
“I see you still have no patience to speak of,” Danny muttered, “surprise, surprise.” Steve shrugged and Danny rolled his eyes. “Leave him alone for twenty-four hours, no contact. Everyone’s still on high alert for Stamatos, so you can afford to exercise a little restraint here. And from what you’ve told me about Gibson, he’s gonna get ants in his pants and, by this time tomorrow, he’ll spill to save his own ass.”
“I like the way your mind works.” Steve started to smile but then reality bit and he grimaced. “Dammit, there’s no way he’s gonna crack without a little shove in the right direction. I don’t have that kind of immunity any more. New Governor, new rules.”
“Guess you’re gonna have to do some old school police work, huh? Bust out the kind of interrogation skills that they don’t teach at Gitmo. My, how the mighty have fallen,” Danny teased, smirking, and Steve was all set to take mock offense when Danny took another bite of his pastry. It left a tiny dollop of cream clinging to the bow of his upper lip, just there for the licking and Steve blinked, thoroughly sidetracked and completely entranced.
He’d kissed that mouth once, he recalled with sudden clarity, and he very much wanted to do it again. And possibly keep doing it for a very long time.
He reached out without thinking and rubbed that bit of cream off with his thumb before sucking it clean, and oh, wow, that was nice and sweet with the tiniest hint of salt. He wondered if the saltiness was the taste of the ocean air on Danny’s skin, and the thought made his pulse spike, so he distracted himself by reaching for the box of pastries and claiming the last malasada for himself; he’d just swim extra long tomorrow to make up for the indulgence and maybe calm his overeager libido while he was at it.
It took Kono snorting to remind Steve that he and Danny weren’t alone in the conference room. A split second recon indicated that Chin was smiling like a sphinx, Jenna was grinning and looked about two seconds away from squealing and perhaps clapping her hands like a seal - the cute marine mammal, not the badass Navy kind - and Weston looked…well, a little shell-shocked.
It was a good look on her, Steve thought smugly.
“How do you know so much about this case?” she asked Danny.
Danny shrugged. “Eh, I get updates.”
Weston quirked an eyebrow at him. “You get updates?”
“I get updates.”
“How is that allowed?”
Steve felt his temper spark to flame. “My team, my decision,” he said, a blatant warning to back off in his tone; Danny bumped his knee under the table. He huffed out a breath, frowning when Weston dared to continue.
“But he’s not a member of this team…”
“He will always be a member of this team!” Steve snapped, his hackles rising with his rage as he stared Weston down.
“Amen, bruddah,” Kono was quick to chime in, and Chin nodded in amused agreement, her dimpled grin and his playfully sage words diffusing the tension inside him like a bomb. “Once you’re in, there’s no getting out.”
“Really?” Jenna quipped, doing her part. “I wish someone would’ve mentioned that before I joined you guys.”
Steve blinked the red haze from his vision and turned back to Weston as the rest of his team laughed. “If it’ll make you feel better, think of Danny as a…consultant.”
Chin smiled that ridiculously Zen, all-knowing smile of his. “Nice one, brah.” Steve couldn’t help but grin back, and they reached across the table to bump fists. “Wish you would’ve told us. We could’ve used Danny’s input once or twice.”
“The hell are you talking about, Chin Ho Kelly?” Danny sputtered indignantly. He jabbed a finger in the air in Chin’s direction. “You call me every Saturday. Like clockwork. Just to shoot the breeze or give me - very helpful, I might add, so thank you - hints on how my phone works.” He stared down Kono. “You call me twice a week! Sometimes three! And sometimes, you make me talk to your mother! Who is a lovely lady, no doubt, but what gives? And you with the daily emails,” he pinned Jenna with an irate stare, “and the LOLcats.”
“I think my mom’s got a little crush on you.” Kono laughed and Danny gaped at that bit of news. Steve hid a smile. “Besides, she knows you’re ohana, brah. And the LOLcats were for Grace.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Danny groused, and then leveled a steady look in Steve’s direction, one that was playful and heated and did funny things to Steve’s heart rate. “So, if I’m a consultant, how come I haven’t seen a dime for my trouble? I’m gonna have to demand payment for services rendered, McGarrett.”
Steve gulped and scrambled for an appropriate response, because all his thoughts had just headed into exceedingly inappropriate territory. “You work for food,” Steve told him, with a pointed bite of his pastry, “and outta the goodness of that big haole heart of yours. Cheap and easy.” Danny kicked him under the table and Steve grinned unrepentantly.
“Out of curiosity,” Chin started, looking so innocent that Steve’s smile slid off his face, “how often are you in touch with Danny, boss?”
“None of your damn business,” Steve grumbled, trying not to pout; Danny was laughing at him, though, as were Jenna and Kono, so he didn’t think he was successful in that endeavor.
“One or two or twenty, thirty times a day, I tend to lose count,” Danny supplied with a smug smirk, his gaze focused on Steve like a tractor beam. “Calls, texts and emails. It’s almost like you miss me or something.”
“What do you think ‘consultancy’ means?”
“Calling me for laundry tips?”
“That was just the one time!”
Jenna giggled. “This I gotta hear.”
Danny obligingly turned to her, that damnable grin still on his face. “He needed tips on how to wash his tie…”
“I got blood on it…”
“You get blood on everything; that is what you do best.”
“…he’s the one always wearing ties, so he was my go-to guy.”
“He’s your go-to guy, tie or no tie,” Kono said, chuckling and winking at Danny. “Personally, I dig the tie. So sexy.”
“Seconded,” Jenna chirped.
Steve felt another growl rumble in his chest, one that felt horrifyingly, fiercely territorial, but thankfully, Danny’s laughter masked the sound of it. “Man, I should go away more often if this is the kind of reception I get when I come back.”
Terror gripped Steve. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Says who?” Danny asked, all brash belligerence that Steve found entirely too charming; maybe Danny was right and he really should get his head checked.
“Says me.”
“You and whose army?”
“Was that another anti-Navy quip?”
“I’m not anti-Navy,” Danny clarified, “I love the Navy. I have the highest respect for the Navy. The Navy…gave me you.”
Steve felt the echo of the undoubtedly ridiculous smile on his face in every cell of his body. “You love me.”
Danny grinned, holding his thumb and forefinger in front of Steve’s face, about a half inch apart. “Maybe a little.”
Chin snorted. “No ‘maybe’ about it. Don’t think I didn’t see that whole miming thing with the heart when Steve was airlifted off that mountain with a broken arm, brah.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny hedged, not quite hiding his amusement.
“I remember that, too,” Steve delighted in telling him.
“You were delirious…”
“I was in complete control of all my mental faculties.”
“Emphasis on the mental.”
Steve smirked. “You’re staying with me, right?”
Danny blinked at the non sequitur. “Er… I was gonna get a hotel.”
Steve smiled fondly at him. “Ohana, Danno. You’re staying with me.” He’d deal with the consequences of having Danny in his living space later; bridges: Steve didn’t cross ‘em unless he absolutely had to, or at least until he could rig them with explosives and take them out of the equation altogether.
“Yeah, fine.” Steve was pretty sure Danny’s smile was the mirror image of his. “I gotta get Gracie later tonight, though.”
“We’ll go together.”
“Only if I drive.”
“But it’s my car now…”
“If it’s your car now, then by your logic, I should be the one driving it.”
“But you gave it to me.”
“If you think I’m letting you drive with my daughter in the car…”
“I would never…”
“I know that, you goof, stop with the Constipated Face already, I’m just yanking your chain. And, I miss driving my Camaro.”
“Fine,” Steve capitulated - only ‘cause it was Danny - as he looked at the rest of his team. “Will you guys take care of the food? We’ll get the booze. My place at 1800.”
“Copy that, boss,” Kono said, smirking, and Steve leaned back in his chair, hands tied behind his head as he surveyed his team and Weston. His lips quirked when his gaze settled on Danny.
“What?”
Steve grinned at Danny’s flustered look. “What what?”
“What’s with that face?”
“Thought you knew all my faces.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a new one,” Danny grudgingly admitted, squinting as he leaned in for a closer look. Steve obligingly leaned in too. “Huh. That looks like your Goof Face with a side of your Dopey Face, and you just added a little smidgen of - ah, my personal favorite - your Pouty Five Year Old Face.”
“You scare me sometimes.”
“I scare you?” Danny scoffed. “You’re scared of little ol’ me? You’re losing your touch, Super SEAL.” Steve opened his mouth to vehemently deny that but Danny held a hand up and pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket. “Oh hey, change of plans. Rachel and Grace are here… ETA about two minutes, and they’ll come get her tomorrow afternoon.”
Steve brightened at the prospect of seeing Danny’s little girl again. “That’s great! We’ll hang out tomorrow morning, do something fun.”
“Fun, huh?” Danny’s tone was teasing and a little sweet. “Will it involve sun and surf and sand in uncomfortable places?”
“With a pineapple on top.”
Danny laughed, which made Steve laugh, and maybe stare at his ex-partner for a little longer than was absolutely necessary.
“Ohhh!”
Steve wrenched his gaze away from Danny to raise an eyebrow at Weston. “Oh, what?”
Weston, Kono and Jenna exchanged a quick look, all wide eyes and faked innocence; Chin was still doing his sphinx thing. The hairs at the back of Steve’s neck rose and his survival instincts kicked in. “Nothing,” Weston replied, shaking her head and waving a hand at them. “Carry on.”
She was smirking, though, and Steve didn’t like it. He frowned at her and he would’ve said something but for Danny reaching out to smooth the furrows in his forehead.
“That Frowny Face is not pretty, babe,” he teased, “and if you’re not careful, it’ll stick like that. Gimme the one from before.” Steve couldn’t help smiling at him any more than he could help breathing. And it had been six months of separation; shouldn’t he be over this thing he had for Danny by now? Danny beckoned him closer with a crook of his finger and Steve went. Right. So, not over then. “Let me get this straight. We were partners for, what? A year and change?”
Steve nodded and then shook his head. “And best friends. That too, right?” Unless Steve had fucked that up by kissing him; God, he hoped not.
Danny propped his chin on his hand and just looked at him, that tiny, teasing smile still on his face. “That, too. Right.” Steve sagged in relief. “And I’ve been gone a little over six months, and I’ve been back a little under sixty minutes, and I got a hug from pretty much everyone - even Weston here - but you. What gives? Too macho for public displays of affection unless one of us is getting outta jail free or, I don’t know, back from the brink of death?”
“Weston hugged you?” Steve shot her a look that should’ve, if the universe was a fair and just place, rendered her extinct.
“That’s the part you focus on? Hey, McGQ! Quit giving your partner the stink-eye and gimme a hug, goddammit.”
“We’re sitting down.”
“Then stand the fuck up.”
Steve stood, grinning, and Danny stood, chuckling, arms wide open, but before they could move, the sound of flip flops slapping against the tiled floor interrupted them. Steve turned just in time to catch Grace in his arms.
“Uncle Steve!”
“Gracie!” Steve felt every tense muscle in his body relax around Grace’s little body, which fit in his arms like there had always been a special place for her right there, no matter how small or big she was, speaking of which, he could’ve sworn that she’d grown in the last six months. Steve breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo and held on tight, pressing a kiss to whatever bit of her face he could reach. She wriggled in his arms and giggled helplessly when he made a game of it. “Missed you so much, sweetheart.”
“We missed you too,” she told him, smiling adorably as Danny reached out to grab her hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss. “Hi, Danno.”
“Hey, Monkey. You enjoying being back in Hawai’i?”
“Yeah! Mommy took me to get shave ice and then I hung out at the pool at Step Stan’s while they talked and talked and talked.” She rolled her eyes and Steve and Danny both choked back their laughter in time to see an elegantly pregnant Rachel walk up into the conference area. Grace gave Steve an extra-hard squeeze and practically leapt from his arms so that she could go hug Kono and Chin and get introduced to the others.
They made small talk for a few, very uncomfortable - for Steve anyway - minutes before Danny offered to see Rachel out, while Grace, with one last kiss for her mother, elected to stay put. When her parents were out of sight, she pinned Steve with a look of disapproval.
“You let Danno have a malasada, didn’t you?” The accusation brought Steve to his knees in front of her.
“He let Danny have two,” Kono supplied helpfully as her cousin snorted in amusement. “The cream-filled ones. Mmm, so onolicious…”
The glare Steve shot her would have incinerated a lesser woman, but Kono just smirked, the traitor. “Gracie,” he pleaded instead, turning back to his pint-sized adversary, “it was just to welcome him back to the island. He hasn’t had one in six months!”
“He had donuts in New Jersey. Lots and lots of donuts.”
“Well, now, that’s on you. You should’ve been watching him a lot closer,” Steve teased. “You slacking off, princess?”
“I can’t watch him at work, silly,” Grace huffed, her tiny hands stabbing the air in front of Steve’s face in emphasis, not unlike the way her father spoke to him; he bit back a grin at her irate little face. “And his new partner, Joey? He’s so lolo, he doesn’t listen to me at all and now Danno’s gonna get so momona!”
Steve couldn’t hold back his laughter: Danny’s daughter was breaking out the Pidgin. “Danny’s getting a little chubby because Joey’s er…lolo?”
“Totally!” Grace nodded. “He’s a goof.”
“Who’s a goof?” Danny asked as he strutted back into the room. “Uncle Steve? Because Uncle Steve is the biggest goof who ever goofed…”
Grace frowned. “No, Joey.”
“My partner, Joey?” Danny blinked at Grace in surprise.
Steve couldn’t decide whether to feel smug because Grace thought Joey was stupid, or feel a little (okay, a lot) jealous that Danny had a partner who was not Steve, and that was wrong on so many levels that Steve didn’t even know where to start, and he certainly didn’t give a shit that Joey had checked out and seemed like a stand-up guy.
He stood up and stared Danny down, his Serious Face out in full force, much to Danny’s apparent amusement. “I hear Joey let you eat one too many donuts back there in Jersey,” he told him with a teasing, yet none-too-gentle smack to Danny’s - admittedly still-trim - abdomen. “I thought I noticed something different about you, Danno.”
Danny sputtered and Grace giggled. “You did not just call me fat! Did he just call me fat? Did you just call me fat? Me?”
“If the patent leather loafers fit…” Steve frowned. “Or the pants don’t fit.” He shook his head. “Whatever.”
“Goof. I’ll have you know that if you didn’t make me break my knee again, I could run circles around you, SEAL boy! This is all muscle!”
“Sure, Danno, whatever you say.” Steve pacified him, winking at Grace and pointing an accusing finger in Danny’s exasperated face. “But ho, brah, ainokea malasadas so ono. Grind too much, ass why you come so momona.”
There was a moment of stunned, pin-drop silence before Chin, Kono, Steve and Grace - Danny’s beautiful, precious, Pidgin-spouting princess - all burst out laughing. Danny’s eyes goggled as he gaped at them. He stared at Grace like she’d betrayed him somehow.
“You understood all that?” She smiled angelically and waved her hand like she got the gist of it and Danny turned on Kono with a squinty glare. “I knew I should’ve never let her speak to you without supervision.”
Kono shrugged, her cheeks dimpling with the effort it took not to smile. “What? It’s good to know a second language.”
“Pidgin?” Danny asked, with a wave of his hands. “Pidgin does not qualify as a second language. You know what does? Spanish! Or French! Urdu! Tagalog! American Sign Language! Those? Those qualify! Pidgin? Is like a made up language. Like Elvish! Or Klingon!”
“There are Hawaiians here, haole, quit talkin’ stink bout us,” Steve felt obliged to point out and Danny turned and glared at him.
“You need to sh…ush. Shush!” he modified for Grace’s benefit. “I’m pretty sure you just called me fat in two different languages! Why, I oughta…”
Steve smirked, flexing his muscles and cracking his neck, planting his feet in a fighting stance. “You like beef, brah?”
“I hate you so, so much,” Danny muttered, but Steve caught him staring at his biceps, looking a little riveted, and hey…that was interesting.
Steve flexed again, put his pecs into it this time, and Danny’s eyes kind of glazed over. He tried not to look too smug, but it was a lost cause, and now he really wanted to grab Danno and never let him go, so he picked up a still-giggling Grace to occupy his arms instead, because he wasn’t quaking in his combats at the thought of hugging her and, it was a close thing, but he wasn’t afraid that he’d never be able to let her go. With her, he got to cuddle to his heart’s content, and he got sort of stupidly happy when she sighed, looped her small arms around his neck and trustingly snuggled into his embrace and whispered in his ear. He listened attentively and shook his head, whispering in her ear this time as Danny’s eyebrows rose and his brow furrowed in surprise; Steve and Grace looked at each other and nodded in agreement.
“Malasadas only once a week, Danno,” Grace told her dad, “or if you’re gonna have more, you have to go swimming with Uncle Steve.”
Danny looked like he was fighting a big, ridiculously happy grin. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? You ganging up on me, Monkey? Now that you got your Super Steve back?” Grace snickered when Danny tickled her tummy and grabbed onto Steve. “What about cocoa puffs, huh? Do I get any of those?” Steve looked at Danny’s daughter and raised his brow in question. Her little bow-shaped mouth pursed up in thought and she looked at him enquiringly; he gave her a tiny smile. “Oh my God, what is that?” Danny sputtered. “First Kono with the Pidgin and now you with the super secret wordless language of the SEALs? No! No way. Next thing, Chin’ll be teaching her how to hack a computer, and Jenna’ll be recruiting her into the CIA, and…”
“Breathe, Danno.”
Danny clapped his hands over Grace’s ears and stared belligerently up at Steve. “Her Jersey cousins already corrupted her enough.”
Steve nodded in approval; he’d definitely noticed the newfound confidence Grace had; there was more Danny in her personality now than Rachel, and as far as Steve was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that. “Influenced, I think is what you mean. It’s a good thing, Danny.”
“I know, but I don’t want her growing up too soon. She’s my baby.”
“I’m not a baby, Danno,” Grace responded with the longsuffering sigh of a daughter with an overprotective father who adored her, hearing the conversation loud and clear despite the hands over her ears.
Danny’s gaze flitted from Grace to Steve as he stared at them, all his bluster gone, slowly replaced by a soft, sweet smile on his face as he stroked Grace’s hair and trailed one hand down until it settled warm, and a maybe little possessive - and hey, that was a good thing, too; a very good thing; an awesome, amazing thing - on the meat of Steve’s forearm. “She hugs you like she hugs me,” he whispered, for Steve’s ears only, even though Steve was sure everyone else had already left. Danny’s blue eyes bored into Steve’s, crystal clear and intensely bright; it was like looking at a piece of the Hawai’ian sky. Danny laughed then, squeezing his arm before letting go, and Steve came back down to earth. “Let’s go home.”
“Home,” Steve agreed, smiling, probably very goofily.
He was a big enough man that he didn’t hold the fact that he’d been cheated out of a hug with Danny against his daughter.
*What Steve said in Pidgin:
“But ho, brah, ainokea malasadas so ono. Grind too much, ass why you come so momona.”
= "But hey, bro, I don't care how yummy malasadas are, you eat too many, you're gonna get fat."
I'm pretty sure the rest is self-explanatory :)