Fic: Building Blocks
Title: Building Blocks
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Summary: It's been some five days since a six foot, tattooed and borderline psychotic Action Man had turned Danny Williams' already (mostly) craptastic life upside down. He figures he's due something of an explanation.
Characters: Danny, Chin, Kono, Steve; references to others
Rating: PG
Length: ~2200
Betas: explodedpen and wihluta
Spoilers: 1.01 and 1.08
Author's Notes: Written for kristen999 for the 2011 h50_holidayswap, who asked for Steve-centric gen. This is... not quite like that. But I really hope you like this.
Huge thanks to explodedpen, lady_drace and digitaljessie for all of the handholding and keeping me sane throughout this.
Takes place between episodes 1.01 and 1.02.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
First thing Monday morning, Danny drops Grace off at the gate to Step Stan's mansion so that she can get changed in time for school. She bounds noisily up the driveway, and Danny savours the smug-tinged pride that he'd been the one to put her in a bouncy good mood, as opposed to rabbit-shaped bribery or whatever else that man may have up his sleeve for this week.
Grace disappears inside the house, and Danny leans heavily on the steering wheel before burying his face in his arms. He counts to ten, listens to himself breathing, then straightens up and drives to his precinct. He's halfway there when he realises he's no longer HPD, and ribbing Meka for whatever crazy stunts he's tried to encourage his kid to do this weekend will have to wait. Seeing Meka at all any more will have to be arranged rather than being a default part of his day.
Damn Steve McGarrett. It's been some five days since a six foot, tattooed and borderline psychotic Action Man had turned Danny Williams' already (mostly) craptastic life upside down. He figures he's due something of an explanation. Maybe a chance to back out.
The section of the state building that the Governor has - oh so kindly - allocated her as yet unnamed task force comes with ample employee parking. The ease and simplicity of this is something for which Danny is incredibly grateful after he finds himself smack in the middle of rush hour, Honolulu style. He flashes his badge at the uniform in the building's reception and jogs up the stairs.
He stops outside the glass doors and just stares. He has to admit that he's impressed - it's starting to look like an actual branch of law enforcement in there; moving crates and courier packaging have given way to sleek computer hardware and flashes of office storage and furniture.
Danny reaches out to grasp the door handle then hesitates, suddenly unsure if he's allowed to go inside or not. He quickly squelches the feeling, remembering McGarrett's assured, “I'm making you my partner,” and everything that had come after it. (He's still not completely convinced the last week hasn't been some crazy fever dream brought on by the local... conditions.)
He marches into the task force's headquarters. Immediately a head pops up from the far side of the computer terminal in the centre of the room.
“Hey, Danny!”
“Chin,” Danny nods.
Chin stands up straight. He's holding what looks like a small tool-kit in one hand. “Howzit?”
Danny shrugs. “Too much sunshine, not enough real weather. You know, the usual.”
Rather than take offence, Chin just grins at him. “Another six months, you'll be as kama'aina as the rest of us.”
“Pass,” Danny says. “Hey, is Steve here yet?”
Chin shakes his head. “He and Kono went to catch some early waves. Should be in soon, though.”
“They getting along quite well?” Danny asks, and tries not to cringe at how awkward that sounds.
To his credit though, Chin just shrugs. “Kono called it team bonding.”
“With just the two of them?”
“Surfing's not my thing,” Chin shrugs. Then he raises an eyebrow. “Unless you'd rather be out there on a board as well?”
“No, no thanks!” Danny holds up his hands in mock horror. “There are many things in this world that I will give a fair chance, but trying to keep my balance on a slab of wood in the middle of the ocean is so very, very far from making that list -”
“Not just a slab of wood, brah,” someone says from behind him - Danny half turns and realises it's Kono. Kono Kalakaua with loose, wet hair and a surfboard tucked under an arm. But like her cousin, she's grinning at Danny. Which he supposes is better than, well, anything else.
“To you, perhaps,” he allows as graciously as he knows how.
“That so, Danno?” Steve rumbles up behind Kono, grinning and apparently impressed with his ability to rhyme, as stunted and pointless as that entire mini statement was. He's carrying a surfboard as well, but its colours are faded, and it looks significantly more battered than Kono's sleek thing.
“Yes, Steven, that is so. Kill anyone with that thing?” Danny asks, indicating the board with a nod.
Steve just looks at him, completely focuses on him just long enough that Danny seriously thinks about squirming, or maybe blurting one or two of his darkest secrets, just to provide a distraction.
The spell is broken by Kono's excellent timing, who pushes between the two of them to dump her board in her newly appropriated office. “Got a meeting over at the Academy,” she explains when Danny looks at her quizzically. “Admin stuff mostly. Maybe see what the extra credit's good for.” She flashes the three men a blinding grin before bounding out of HQ and down the corridor, out of sight.
“I should get going as well,” Chin says. “Admin stuff.”
Steve nods at him. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” he asks, and Danny wonders exactly what he's missed by switching his phone off all weekend.
Chin nods at Steve, then at Danny, then leaves as well. And that just leaves Steve and Danny.
And thus the awkward silence begins.
“Hey, how was the hotel?” Steve asks, crossing the room to his office, presumably to stash his board away as well.
Danny pivots and watches. “Good. Actually it was really good - thank you.”
Steve smiles. “You're welcome. Grace get to swim with the dolphins?”
“Yes, and she enjoyed it.”
“Did you?”
“Swim with the hard-beaked sea mammals? No,” Danny replies. “Enjoy watching her do the same? Not so much but like I said, she enjoyed it.”
“Good,” Steve echoes.
Danny just stares at him for a while. Actually, they both sort of stare at each other, in between the semi-awkward shuffling and glancing around that reminds Danny way too much of high school, but Danny starts to think. And by think, he means taking a crack at figuring out Steve McGarrett, and everything that he's seen of and done with the man since being assigned his father's murder.
Steve seems content with the silence; after side-eyeing Danny a couple of times he starts to putter around headquarters, poking at a filing cabinet here, adjusting a monitor resolution there. Like he's already figured out there's something brewing in Danny's head, and he's happy to wait for Danny to figure out exactly what it is.
And then he does. “You're still here,” Danny blurts out.
And doesn't that just get Steve's attention. “What do you mean?” he asks. Something flickers across his face too quickly for Danny to identify, but he's standing to attention and once again focused completely on Danny and what he's about to say next.
Danny flounders briefly. “Here. I mean... Hesse got away, right? But you didn't. I -” He dimly remembers a time when he was capable of articulating himself with complex sentence structures. Maybe it's because it's still before nine and he hasn't had that first cup of coffee yet. Yeah, it could be that.
“I know,” Steve says quietly. He rubs the back of his neck with what's supposed to be his injured arm, but the fresh bandage isn't fooling Danny any.
“I just... aren't you the guy who goes charging in - without backup - to go get your man?”
Steve looks pained. “He got away. I - I just need to regroup.”
Danny is surprised to find that he is okay with this explanation, if for no other reason than it might just mean the madman before him is only human after all. “You did get shot,” he allows. “And get me shot. And my suspect killed, and -” He stops himself. Not the time.
Steve's mouth quirks like he's about to smile. “I apologised for that, remember?”
“Last year, when that conversation first began.” Danny throws Steve's words back at him, completely unrepentantly. “We'll get him,” he adds, almost not realising he's said anything else.
“We?” Steve raises his eyebrows.
Danny spreads his arms wide. “Look around, you big oaf.”
Steve does. He ducks his head. “Yeah,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” Danny repeats, emphasising the syllable. “Now, what's a guy gotta do to get a coffee around here?”
Steve takes him to a poky little coffee shop just down the block, staffed by two very nice seeming people who Danny can't understand a word of. Steve has no such problems, and they quickly end up with two steaming cups and seats by the window. It's humid in the shop, moreso in their corner, and Danny tugs at his tie a couple of times before settling down and trying his coffee. It's how he likes it, which is both surprising, and not.
“Just so that we're clear, you and me,” he begins, “this task force of yours is going to be one hellish roller-coaster ride that will not only ignore the book but probably run back and forth over it several times on any given day -”
“Means and immunity,” Steve says lightly, but there's that set in his jaw that means he's paying close attention to Danny, and how the hell does a Navy Intelligence badass become this easy to read this quickly anyway?
Danny glares at him briefly. “Those words are not a challenge, okay? Please do not treat them as a challenge, because if I'm going to do this I need to at least be able to pretend I'm still a legitimate police detective.”
Steve frowns. “If?” he repeats.
Danny sighs. “You're insane; I'm only human. Eventually something will give and I would like very much for it to not be my sanity. Or my daughter,” he adds pointedly, and Steve seems to get the message, though Danny has a sinking suspicion he's going to have to take the time each week to hammer it home with industrial sized nails or whatever.
“Anything else?” Steve asks after a few seconds' silence, but his tone is curious. This is probably his way of trying to size Danny up outside of an armed raid or anything to do with an active investigation. Again, Danny thinks he's okay with this.
“Yeah,” he says. “I'm not local, I'm never going to try and pretend to blend in for the sake of harmony or whatever. I have experience. I have my own, legitimate experiences completely separate to Hawaii and HPD and I've been here for six months already and -”
“I'll try to remember that,” Steve says seriously.
Danny's doubtful, but he'll take what he can get. “How about you? Anything you'd like to air?”
Steve considers this for a moment. Then he says, still quiet and serious, and very carefully: “Means and immunity means I have the scope to use my training and expertise - military training and expertise - to accomplish my intended goals. I'm not a cop.”
Danny's first instinct is to point out that he knows this, he's seen Steve drive onto a freaking cargo ship and wage a two man war against an unknown number of enemy shooters. He stops himself, and settles for a nod. “I think this is what psychiatrists would call learning the art of compromise.”
Steve's eyebrows quirk. “Do I even want to know?”
“No.”
Steve's chuckle surprises them both.
“Of course,” Danny continues, “all of this... civilised attempt at conversation assumes we'll remember our terms the next time you're aiming a gun at a suspect or witness, or -”
“I have a suggestion,” Steve interrupts. “How about we take things as they come? Alright, partner?”
Danny's going to regret this. He knows this with every single cop-tuned fibre of his being that in the long run, the very long run where reputations and lives and his daughter can be on the line, that this could turn out to be the single most colossal mistake he's ever made.
On the other hand, it might not be so terrible after all.
“I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' next time you flaunt the law,” Danny says.
Steve frowns. Then he grins. “I reserve the right to remind you that sometimes the end justifies the means.”
Danny side-eyes him. “I never had a choice in the first place, did I?”
Steve shakes his head, grinning, and takes a swig of coffee. “Just so we're clear,” he says, setting the cup down and fixing Danny with that serious focus again, “absolutely clear, because I think I can tell you like your terms and conditions in black and white for everyone to see.”
Danny nods.
Steve smirks. “Exactly how much chance do I have of getting you surfing?”
Danny sputters. “I - no. No. You don't, I -”
Right on cue, Steve's cellphone rings. He glances at the caller display, and shows the screen to Danny quickly.
Danny groans as Steve answers the call.
“Yes, Governor?”
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Summary: It's been some five days since a six foot, tattooed and borderline psychotic Action Man had turned Danny Williams' already (mostly) craptastic life upside down. He figures he's due something of an explanation.
Characters: Danny, Chin, Kono, Steve; references to others
Rating: PG
Length: ~2200
Betas: explodedpen and wihluta
Spoilers: 1.01 and 1.08
Author's Notes: Written for kristen999 for the 2011 h50_holidayswap, who asked for Steve-centric gen. This is... not quite like that. But I really hope you like this.
Huge thanks to explodedpen, lady_drace and digitaljessie for all of the handholding and keeping me sane throughout this.
Takes place between episodes 1.01 and 1.02.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
First thing Monday morning, Danny drops Grace off at the gate to Step Stan's mansion so that she can get changed in time for school. She bounds noisily up the driveway, and Danny savours the smug-tinged pride that he'd been the one to put her in a bouncy good mood, as opposed to rabbit-shaped bribery or whatever else that man may have up his sleeve for this week.
Grace disappears inside the house, and Danny leans heavily on the steering wheel before burying his face in his arms. He counts to ten, listens to himself breathing, then straightens up and drives to his precinct. He's halfway there when he realises he's no longer HPD, and ribbing Meka for whatever crazy stunts he's tried to encourage his kid to do this weekend will have to wait. Seeing Meka at all any more will have to be arranged rather than being a default part of his day.
Damn Steve McGarrett. It's been some five days since a six foot, tattooed and borderline psychotic Action Man had turned Danny Williams' already (mostly) craptastic life upside down. He figures he's due something of an explanation. Maybe a chance to back out.
The section of the state building that the Governor has - oh so kindly - allocated her as yet unnamed task force comes with ample employee parking. The ease and simplicity of this is something for which Danny is incredibly grateful after he finds himself smack in the middle of rush hour, Honolulu style. He flashes his badge at the uniform in the building's reception and jogs up the stairs.
He stops outside the glass doors and just stares. He has to admit that he's impressed - it's starting to look like an actual branch of law enforcement in there; moving crates and courier packaging have given way to sleek computer hardware and flashes of office storage and furniture.
Danny reaches out to grasp the door handle then hesitates, suddenly unsure if he's allowed to go inside or not. He quickly squelches the feeling, remembering McGarrett's assured, “I'm making you my partner,” and everything that had come after it. (He's still not completely convinced the last week hasn't been some crazy fever dream brought on by the local... conditions.)
He marches into the task force's headquarters. Immediately a head pops up from the far side of the computer terminal in the centre of the room.
“Hey, Danny!”
“Chin,” Danny nods.
Chin stands up straight. He's holding what looks like a small tool-kit in one hand. “Howzit?”
Danny shrugs. “Too much sunshine, not enough real weather. You know, the usual.”
Rather than take offence, Chin just grins at him. “Another six months, you'll be as kama'aina as the rest of us.”
“Pass,” Danny says. “Hey, is Steve here yet?”
Chin shakes his head. “He and Kono went to catch some early waves. Should be in soon, though.”
“They getting along quite well?” Danny asks, and tries not to cringe at how awkward that sounds.
To his credit though, Chin just shrugs. “Kono called it team bonding.”
“With just the two of them?”
“Surfing's not my thing,” Chin shrugs. Then he raises an eyebrow. “Unless you'd rather be out there on a board as well?”
“No, no thanks!” Danny holds up his hands in mock horror. “There are many things in this world that I will give a fair chance, but trying to keep my balance on a slab of wood in the middle of the ocean is so very, very far from making that list -”
“Not just a slab of wood, brah,” someone says from behind him - Danny half turns and realises it's Kono. Kono Kalakaua with loose, wet hair and a surfboard tucked under an arm. But like her cousin, she's grinning at Danny. Which he supposes is better than, well, anything else.
“To you, perhaps,” he allows as graciously as he knows how.
“That so, Danno?” Steve rumbles up behind Kono, grinning and apparently impressed with his ability to rhyme, as stunted and pointless as that entire mini statement was. He's carrying a surfboard as well, but its colours are faded, and it looks significantly more battered than Kono's sleek thing.
“Yes, Steven, that is so. Kill anyone with that thing?” Danny asks, indicating the board with a nod.
Steve just looks at him, completely focuses on him just long enough that Danny seriously thinks about squirming, or maybe blurting one or two of his darkest secrets, just to provide a distraction.
The spell is broken by Kono's excellent timing, who pushes between the two of them to dump her board in her newly appropriated office. “Got a meeting over at the Academy,” she explains when Danny looks at her quizzically. “Admin stuff mostly. Maybe see what the extra credit's good for.” She flashes the three men a blinding grin before bounding out of HQ and down the corridor, out of sight.
“I should get going as well,” Chin says. “Admin stuff.”
Steve nods at him. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” he asks, and Danny wonders exactly what he's missed by switching his phone off all weekend.
Chin nods at Steve, then at Danny, then leaves as well. And that just leaves Steve and Danny.
And thus the awkward silence begins.
“Hey, how was the hotel?” Steve asks, crossing the room to his office, presumably to stash his board away as well.
Danny pivots and watches. “Good. Actually it was really good - thank you.”
Steve smiles. “You're welcome. Grace get to swim with the dolphins?”
“Yes, and she enjoyed it.”
“Did you?”
“Swim with the hard-beaked sea mammals? No,” Danny replies. “Enjoy watching her do the same? Not so much but like I said, she enjoyed it.”
“Good,” Steve echoes.
Danny just stares at him for a while. Actually, they both sort of stare at each other, in between the semi-awkward shuffling and glancing around that reminds Danny way too much of high school, but Danny starts to think. And by think, he means taking a crack at figuring out Steve McGarrett, and everything that he's seen of and done with the man since being assigned his father's murder.
Steve seems content with the silence; after side-eyeing Danny a couple of times he starts to putter around headquarters, poking at a filing cabinet here, adjusting a monitor resolution there. Like he's already figured out there's something brewing in Danny's head, and he's happy to wait for Danny to figure out exactly what it is.
And then he does. “You're still here,” Danny blurts out.
And doesn't that just get Steve's attention. “What do you mean?” he asks. Something flickers across his face too quickly for Danny to identify, but he's standing to attention and once again focused completely on Danny and what he's about to say next.
Danny flounders briefly. “Here. I mean... Hesse got away, right? But you didn't. I -” He dimly remembers a time when he was capable of articulating himself with complex sentence structures. Maybe it's because it's still before nine and he hasn't had that first cup of coffee yet. Yeah, it could be that.
“I know,” Steve says quietly. He rubs the back of his neck with what's supposed to be his injured arm, but the fresh bandage isn't fooling Danny any.
“I just... aren't you the guy who goes charging in - without backup - to go get your man?”
Steve looks pained. “He got away. I - I just need to regroup.”
Danny is surprised to find that he is okay with this explanation, if for no other reason than it might just mean the madman before him is only human after all. “You did get shot,” he allows. “And get me shot. And my suspect killed, and -” He stops himself. Not the time.
Steve's mouth quirks like he's about to smile. “I apologised for that, remember?”
“Last year, when that conversation first began.” Danny throws Steve's words back at him, completely unrepentantly. “We'll get him,” he adds, almost not realising he's said anything else.
“We?” Steve raises his eyebrows.
Danny spreads his arms wide. “Look around, you big oaf.”
Steve does. He ducks his head. “Yeah,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” Danny repeats, emphasising the syllable. “Now, what's a guy gotta do to get a coffee around here?”
Steve takes him to a poky little coffee shop just down the block, staffed by two very nice seeming people who Danny can't understand a word of. Steve has no such problems, and they quickly end up with two steaming cups and seats by the window. It's humid in the shop, moreso in their corner, and Danny tugs at his tie a couple of times before settling down and trying his coffee. It's how he likes it, which is both surprising, and not.
“Just so that we're clear, you and me,” he begins, “this task force of yours is going to be one hellish roller-coaster ride that will not only ignore the book but probably run back and forth over it several times on any given day -”
“Means and immunity,” Steve says lightly, but there's that set in his jaw that means he's paying close attention to Danny, and how the hell does a Navy Intelligence badass become this easy to read this quickly anyway?
Danny glares at him briefly. “Those words are not a challenge, okay? Please do not treat them as a challenge, because if I'm going to do this I need to at least be able to pretend I'm still a legitimate police detective.”
Steve frowns. “If?” he repeats.
Danny sighs. “You're insane; I'm only human. Eventually something will give and I would like very much for it to not be my sanity. Or my daughter,” he adds pointedly, and Steve seems to get the message, though Danny has a sinking suspicion he's going to have to take the time each week to hammer it home with industrial sized nails or whatever.
“Anything else?” Steve asks after a few seconds' silence, but his tone is curious. This is probably his way of trying to size Danny up outside of an armed raid or anything to do with an active investigation. Again, Danny thinks he's okay with this.
“Yeah,” he says. “I'm not local, I'm never going to try and pretend to blend in for the sake of harmony or whatever. I have experience. I have my own, legitimate experiences completely separate to Hawaii and HPD and I've been here for six months already and -”
“I'll try to remember that,” Steve says seriously.
Danny's doubtful, but he'll take what he can get. “How about you? Anything you'd like to air?”
Steve considers this for a moment. Then he says, still quiet and serious, and very carefully: “Means and immunity means I have the scope to use my training and expertise - military training and expertise - to accomplish my intended goals. I'm not a cop.”
Danny's first instinct is to point out that he knows this, he's seen Steve drive onto a freaking cargo ship and wage a two man war against an unknown number of enemy shooters. He stops himself, and settles for a nod. “I think this is what psychiatrists would call learning the art of compromise.”
Steve's eyebrows quirk. “Do I even want to know?”
“No.”
Steve's chuckle surprises them both.
“Of course,” Danny continues, “all of this... civilised attempt at conversation assumes we'll remember our terms the next time you're aiming a gun at a suspect or witness, or -”
“I have a suggestion,” Steve interrupts. “How about we take things as they come? Alright, partner?”
Danny's going to regret this. He knows this with every single cop-tuned fibre of his being that in the long run, the very long run where reputations and lives and his daughter can be on the line, that this could turn out to be the single most colossal mistake he's ever made.
On the other hand, it might not be so terrible after all.
“I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' next time you flaunt the law,” Danny says.
Steve frowns. Then he grins. “I reserve the right to remind you that sometimes the end justifies the means.”
Danny side-eyes him. “I never had a choice in the first place, did I?”
Steve shakes his head, grinning, and takes a swig of coffee. “Just so we're clear,” he says, setting the cup down and fixing Danny with that serious focus again, “absolutely clear, because I think I can tell you like your terms and conditions in black and white for everyone to see.”
Danny nods.
Steve smirks. “Exactly how much chance do I have of getting you surfing?”
Danny sputters. “I - no. No. You don't, I -”
Right on cue, Steve's cellphone rings. He glances at the caller display, and shows the screen to Danny quickly.
Danny groans as Steve answers the call.
“Yes, Governor?”