#just danny talking about calling Steve twenty times like he's in love

[alea-says]

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter thirty one: sets of twins

October thirteenth had come about and Sam knew for a fact that Joey was having a blast overseas in Germany. She pictured him with a big cake courtesy of one of the large luxurious bakeries over there that specialized in making cakes, and she knew he was to head off to bed that evening with his belly full of it as well as the dinner he so well chose.

Meanwhile, the arrival of the orange and red leaves on all of the trees made her think of the last days in which she and Cliff were together, right around that time in fact. A year ago. A year ago she had lost Cliff to the northern darkness and he became the hunter in the shadows left behind the aurora borealis. The walks to and from school only made the memory of him far more potent: but it was Joey's birthday when the reality of it all settled over her. Metallica had ascended into a whole other world of their own, but Joey and Anthrax remained right by her, right within arms' reach, just like the colors that changed on all of the trees around her.

The red and orange like the feathers decorated upon Joey's headdress.

She pictured him out front there on the stage with a little party hat upon his head much like Alex's birthday party, or perhaps he would wear one of those inside of his Indian headdress during their performance of “Indians”. The only drawback she saw with it however was that his birthday took place right smack in the middle of the week. Add to this, Sam, Marla, and Belinda didn't have a three day weekend like they so assumed would happen with Columbus Day.

“Go to school anyways,” Joey told her over the phone on the Thursday night before that weekend. “Make all the great art you possibly can for Monday. We need that great art of yours—all the red feathers and the Iroquois lore. The world needs that great art of yours.”

He then cleared his throat and sang to her in the softest, most gentlest voice she had ever heard him sing. She lay in bed all the while as well, and so when he sang to her, it almost felt as though he was singing her to sleep. Indeed, she nestled down in bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin as she held the cordless phone up to her ear. She pictured him laying in bed as well, complete with a cup of Mexican hot chocolate next to him. She smiled when he crooned the words, “Oh, Samantha” in a near whisper.

“That was so sweet,” she told him afterwards.

“That's the song I sang for my audition into Anthrax,” he explained, “it's called 'Oh, Sherrie', by Steve Perry from Journey. I just changed it to Samantha to kinda give it to ya and whatnot.”

“Aw.”

He then cleared his throat. “So any word on that big ass monolithic ginormous project you've got coming up?” “Nothing yet,” she explained, “although I'm supposed to meet up with Bill next Friday afternoon and talk it over more. At least I hope to get to see him. He told me he's going to pop into one of my classes just to watch me, but he never told me when it's supposed to happen.”

“Well, damn.”

They fell into silence for a seconds and then she spoke again.

“You know, I think you can actually come with me out to California,” she pointed out, “like—you know, we don't have to do the long distance. I might have to ask him about it because the whole thing about it being about school and whatnot. I say this because that was the mistake Cliff and I made. He didn't want to leave the Bay Area and I didn't want to leave New York, either. He actually got kind of defensive about it at one point. I remember that was one of the last things he and I talked about before Metallica left for their tour and we never fully finished it, either.”

“Wow, that sounds like there was a rift between you two,” Joey noted.

“I wouldn't necessarily say that,” Sam confessed as she slipped one hand underneath her pillow, right under her head. “But it was definitely something we couldn't address further than that, though. Cliff was so home grown with the Bay Area that it almost feels like a betrayal to him that he was killed in Scandinavia, somewhere that wasn't his home.”

“And if I'm honest, I kinda am, too, but with upstate.” He then cleared his throat again. “Although—make no mistake, though, Sam. If we were a lot bigger than we are right now, like if Anthrax truly was about to become something huge, I would probably reconsider that.”

“So for you, it's not just feeling at home and at peace in upstate New York but it's a matter of money.”

“Right! Exactly. We are kinda earnin', but it's not really a lot, though. No idea why this is, either. But we're barely getting paid, though, even while being on tour. Anyways, I gotta mosey on outta here—rehearsal starts in like three minutes. Also before I forget. I should tell ya this: be on the lookout for postcards.”

“Postcards from you?”

“From me, from Frankie, from Charlie, from Danny, from the girls, all of us. We're gonna be sending ya stuff while we're over here in Europe. Also, another thing I should ask you—how's Scott doin'? Have you talked to him at all?”

“I haven't seen him, no,” Sam confessed. “Like weeks—not since you auditioned for the guitarist position. Although I'm thinking of going over to his place and at least checking in on him and his fiancée.”

“You ought to. On the flight over here, Frankie and I were talking and at one point, he goes, 'I wonder how Scott's been doing lately. We sure haven't heard from him in a long time.'”

Someone behind him interrupted him right then and there.

“What's that?” Joey called back and he held the phone away from his ear. The person said something.

“Okay,” he told them, and he brought the phone back. “Anyways, I gotta go. You sleep tight, alright?”

“Of course,” Sam said. “And you guys don't stay up too late.”

He chuckled at that. “Alright—good night, Sam I am. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And they hung up at the same time. She lay there on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling above her, and she listened to the falling rain outside of her window.

But at some point, she drifted off to sleep without putting the cordless back. There was a dream in there at some point, but she had no idea as to what it exactly encapsulated, especially by the time she woke up and Marla was cooking something in the kitchen for the both of them.

Sam had hope that the Cherry Suicides would have their day on Halloween for their annual celebratory show. She had no idea as to where they were playing that night, either, but she hoped that they would have those sugar skulls with them again.

Indeed, on Columbus Day weekend, she sat down with her colored pencils and her journal. She thought of Joey and that big headdress of red and white feathers perched high on his head, as if it was a crown. The crown in lieu of a party hat, the crown for his ascension into his twenty seventh trip about the sun, and thus she drew his head and shoulders. Those thick luxurious curls down from his head in such flyaway fashion and that big cluster of feathers all the way down to the floor. That rich scarlet for the base and the orange and golden yellow for the power of the sun.

She thought about Belinda's wishes to take her into stained glass. Perhaps it could be something genuinely wonderful as she picked up the Prussian blue and burnt umber colored pencils for the shadows under Joey's eyes and all about his face.

She thought about the glass in question, in how it all seemed so much brighter and more colorful when in the sun. All the times of walking to and fro about that front hallway of the school, where the morning sun shone through the stained glass. If only there was a way to bring it all forth with mere colored pencils.

Indeed, she brought the burnt umber to an angle and she began shading in his skin, a tone ever so light about his face. By his nose and the point of his chin, she gave it another layer and spread it out. Followed by another and another, until there she had the darkest, fullest shade of that lush, earthy brown for his sun kissed skin. The blue, meanwhile, added a touch more depth, especially to the natural creases on his face, around his nose and the corners of his mouth and his dark lips.

If only there was a way in which she could show this drawing to Joey, and if only there was a way in which she could translate this very drawing over to the world of stained glass. She had faith in Belinda and her power of convincing, however the whole suggestion about bringing leather crafting to the school seemed to have fallen on deaf ears at that point: neither of them heard anything about it since Alex's birthday party.

It was right there that she had forgotten to ask Joey about the guitar strap she had given to him for his birthday, and how it was faring for him with the overseas crowds. She pictured him at the front of the stages, with the microphone before him and the guitar slung over his shoulder, high against his body as it should be with him. If there was anything he could have given Alex credit for, it had to be that. The whole thing between him and Alex almost no sense to her, even to that moment in time, it made no sense to her.

The day following Joey's birthday, a Wednesday afternoon and the only time Sam had any time to herself during that quarter given Marla's whole hectic schedule on her own as well as all that she had to do, she spotted a pair of cards in the mailbox downstairs, one light rosy pink and the other a butter yellow. The latter had with it a small lumpy envelope the size of a playing card.

She turned over the yellow card where she was met with a clear, crisp photograph of a castle in Germany. To be near a castle once again!

But then she turned it over again in order to read that messy scrawl in blue pen.

“Sam—

my wife and I are trusting you with this key to our apartment, seeing as we owe you the record player with Spreading.

I hope all is well back home right now! I wish you were here with us—if you loved England, you'll love Germany and Holland even more.

Love, Danny”

She turned her head back to the mailbox and she took out the envelope. Indeed, she felt something hard inside, and she knew that she had been given a chance to listen to the vinyl records she so wished to listen to, mainly Spreading the Disease and also Live at Eindhoven. She then turned to the pink postcard, which had a photograph of a cobblestone street somewhere in Amsterdam. But right in the midst of the cobblestones stood the Cherry Suicides, donned in black hats and red veils as if someone had taken the picture right before the show and one of them tacked it onto the card. She then turned it over to read.

“Sam—

do you remember that tape we asked you to make for us? Well, we got accepted into the new merger between Megaforce and the other label with it! A bootleg tape is now a live album thanks to your help. It's not our debut album, but it's something to start with with us. Because of it, we're happy to tell you that you're the first in line for this new record. The Cherry Suicides: from Rhode Island with love—live in Boston 1987, is the full title. Be on the lookout for it around Halloween, believe it or not.

Be on the lookout for a live album from Anthrax and Testament, too—although I'm sure you already know about the latter. I don't know if Eric told you this yet, but that album isn't even supposed to come out over there in States until next year, so consider yourself lucky, my lady! Anyways, there's all kinds of good stuff from all of us! Things are in fact beginning to look up, and the four of us in particular owe it all to you.

Morgan, Minerva, and Rosita all send their love, and as do I.

-Zelda”

She smiled at that and she held both cards to her chest, a pair of twin cards, from two people she held so close to her heart. She then made her way upstairs with those as well as that lumpy envelope that Dan had sent her, and she was eager to make her way over to his place all to listen to those vinyl records.

Again, a pair of twins, soon to be triplets with the Cherry Suicides' upcoming live album. How exciting! The girls finally found their way with a new record, and it happened to be that bootleg tape that Sam had made for them while they toured with Anthrax and Testament as well.

She almost stumbled her way into the apartment but she caught herself before Genie greeted her at the door. Once she set everything down on the couch, she reached down and pet her little black cat head. She squinted her eyes at the feeling and she treated Sam to a low purr, and she squatted down before her so she could better pet her.

If she was to leave for California with Bill, then she would have to leave Genie behind as well, and this cat always greeted her in particular whenever she came in through that door. She erected her tail but left a small hook at the top as she rubbed on her knees. She turned around and gazed up at her with those soft golden eyes and that purr from within her throat, and Sam continued to pet her head and her back before her knees began to ache from the squatting.

No sooner had she stood to her feet when the phone rang.

“Oh, goodness me,” she told Genie, and she bowed into the kitchen and fetched the phone on the wall. “Hello?”

“Hello, daughter of mine.” She recognized her mother's voice on the other end.

“Oh, hi, Mom! I got home from school just now. What's happening?”

“I have some good news and some bad news,” Esmé began.

“Good news first,” Sam told her.

“The good news is in this past summer, starting from May, I have taken up writing. I handed in a sample of a manuscript to a publishing house down in L.A and I'm waiting to hear back from them. Your mother just might become a published author soon.”

“Oh, my god, that's wonderful!” Sam waved her hand about before her face, and then she remembered. “Now what about the bad news?”

“The bad news is—your father and I might be splitting up,” she confessed in a low voice. Sam then brought that same hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming, or puking. Esmé let out a low whistle but she never said anything after that. The silence was deafening all around them.

“Why?” Sam finally managed to choke out.

“He tells me that things are just not right anymore,” she explained, “and they haven't been, either. Even I will admit to that. and just so you know, I never mentioned the man whom I used to know to him once before. But the human intuition is incredible, though. He and I—we talked it over together just this morning—and ever since then I haven't been able to completely process it yet.” She sniffled and Sam held a hand to her chest.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out. To think that her parents had been together for so long at that point as well: it didn't even feel right to her.

“But just—let's keep it between you and me, though,” Esmé advised her. “Unless Marla is really genuinely curious about it. I just—I don't know how else to tell you about this, either, other than straight up over the phone. If you were closer to us, I may have told you sooner before and you may have witnessed it as well.”

“Well, Mom—if it's any comfort at all—I actually might be back out there next summer,” she sputtered.

“Really?” Esmé paused. “What for? What happened?”

“Yeah, my counselor told me that my senior project is taking place out there. Like he planned it ahead of time, out in California, and he told me it's supposed to start like next August. So my junior year will end and then he and I prepare on heading out that way. With this—with hearing this, the one and only pitfall I can think of and see out of that is I'll be away from my friends here.”

“And you've settled into New York City, too,” Esmé added, “you seem so at home there, more so than you do here on the West Coast. But at least your father and I will get to see you again. This is actually something I've disliked about you living so far away from home, if I'm honest. I miss having you around us—and I know Ruben does, too. We both miss you dearly.”

“The other thing about it is I dunno how long it'll be, either,” Sam continued.

“And you'll be far away from Joey, too,” said Esmé in a grim tone of voice.

“I'll be far from Joey, too,” she echoed her.

“But wait, how does he feel about going out West? Maybe he can join you and Bill while you're out here.”

“I dunno—he and I were actually talking about that the other night. It's kind of Cliff was so reluctant to move with me, but Joey's more concerned with money, though. And just like Cliff, he's born and raised here in New York—you know, the whole upstate area where he's from. It's such a homey area, like the direct opposite of New York City in my opinion. You know, New York City is where the world comes to play and figure things out. Upstate is where the world bypasses it because everyone else pitched a tent there. So—I don't really see it, to be completely honest with you, Mom.”

“And it's a grueling task, too,” Esmé added, “you know the struggle the three of us went through three years ago.”

“How could I forget,” Sam quipped. “I was so happy to finally just lay down in bed afterwards.”

“Your father and I were, too, when we were staying at the hotel. I mean, we love New York for sure, and I do especially—in fact—come to think of it, one of the things that's driving the two of us apart is my desire to be back East, closer to you.”

“Really?” Sam pressed her free hand to her hip. “Well, why didn't you say anything before?”

“Well, because your father undertook so much when we were moving you over there. When we got home, Ruben said, 'we're only going over to New York for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I mean no offense to Sam at all, but we seriously can't do this all the time.' He never said anything to you because he didn't know how you would react to it.”

And Sam also thought about the previous conversation they had had before, in which Ruben might not have been her father after all. Indeed, it would also explain as to why she hardly heard anything from him unless the holidays rolled about.

“My publisher is also based out of L.A., too,” Esmé continued. “To make a huge decision such as that, a big grueling move across the family such as that, to move three thousand miles away now would be so frivolous and ultimately fruitless, in my personal opinion.”

“And it just wouldn't make any sense on top of that, anyway,” Sam pointed.

“Right, with you possibly coming out come the summer time as well. It wouldn't be right to me to have you out here for something for school only to have to pick everything up and swap places with you.”

But the news of her parents separating left Sam yearning for something else, something different. She barely paid any attention to anything more that her mother talked about after that; instead she thought of her next drawing. By the time she and Esmé bode each other goodbye for now, she returned to the couch to fetch her things. The lovely feeling she had had before had disappeared with the realization of what happened.

Even though her mother told her not to speak with anyone about it, Marla needed to know about it, and Joey needed to know about it. Aurora had built a home of her own and she hadn't heard anything from her since Alex's birthday party when she made it about herself. Her own best friend and fellow California girl wasn't even around to know about this thing that could alter everything and the world in which Sam knew about from that point onward. Her own best friend and whom she believed was her confidant.

Marla was more trustworthy with the arrival of all of this.

And it was right there that the tears began to fall from her eyes. She sniffled and brushed one away from her right, and she opened her book bag for her journal once again. To the page that followed her birthday drawing to Joey. She tried to keep the tears at bay as she put the first strokes of graphite down on the heavy graphite. But they still streaked down her face as she gave the drawing some dark hair.

Herself as a young child.

She thought about going into her room with the journal, but she had no reason to do so when she had the couch all to herself. She wept for herself and for the fact that she was never returning to childhood. She was never returning to Cliff. Even though she had no siblings to count on, she did feel as though she missed something. There had to be something right next to her all the while, someone else right next to her. She looked over at Genie, who had curled up in her usual spot on the couch.

Her golden eyes closed of the part of the way but she stayed awake.

Careful not to startle her, Sam reached over and petted her head again. She pinched those eyes closed all the way, which in turn made more tears bleed out from Sam's eyes.

She thought about Alex, in how she met him when he was still a young boy in school. He was still a boy to her, but even from a moment's glance, she could tell that he had grown so much in these past three years. The past four years, from when Testament first began life from the suburbs of San Francisco.

Four years since they came to the fold as Legacy, and she was right there when they changed their name. And now she had gotten their very first live album: it awaited her in her bedroom as if it taunted her from the darkness.

A legacy in its own rite.

And she knew that she would be near them once again come the summer time. But she returned to the journal to make that drawing of herself as a little girl. Through her tears, she made more markings that collected into the shape of something new. She had no idea as to how he looked as a child himself, but she knew the little pearl of gray hadn't made its grand entrance yet. That thick jet black hair and those big deep eyes that seemed to swallow her whole, even from the grains of paper, even from the softness of childhood.

She thought about the hug he had given her at his birthday party. Soft like a young boy still.

And yet she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Joey behind. To leave him there in upstate New York to his own devices. But then again, he had that guitar with him, and he had all manner of friends still within range of him, and he had his band as well.

His band.

Scott burst into her mind then, as did Dan Lilker. They had started Anthrax themselves, and yet they both had departed from their places. By some dark magic, Anthrax had become Joey's band almost overnight. He was the heart and soul for sure, but he had come into the fold well after they had started and lifted off of the ground. It wasn't like Alex, who had come into the fold with Testament right after their start and then watched them go forth.

To think Joey had been inherited a whole band from Scott all because of something that he did and something that Scott had dismissed time and time again. Something about it made her squirm in her seat a bit.

Granted, Joey was her boyfriend, and she knew that no matter what happened with Anthrax or with him, that she had to stand behind him on it, something that she had picked up from being with Cliff. But nothing about his position in the band spoke to her about it being his band, however. A stranger in a strange land there when it pertained to him. She couldn't help but compare the whole experience with Testament, either, the other quintet that was still a quintet themselves.

Chuck stood on the stage with his microphone stand and played it like he would a guitar, but at least that was part of the whole deal with them. She hadn't seen him pick up a guitar from someone who was obviously the opposite of him and then go forth with it out of sheer spite. She could hope all she wanted with Joey, but he had to come to his senses about his interaction with Alex at some point in the future. It was only fair to him, and it was only fair to Joey himself.

But on the other hand, she recalled as to how miserable Joey was without a guitar at his helm. She wanted him to be away from the alcohol, away from the drugs. She wanted him to excel as the true genuine artist she knew he was meant to be, that he had tucked away all by the constraint of time itself. He had to continue on with the guitar, and he had to continue on with Anthrax, with them as a four piece rather than a massive quintet like Testament or even Death Angel.

But he also had to come back down to earth. The kindness was within him: she could feel it, and she did in fact feel it with him. To brush away the contradictions like she brushed away tears, and she could perhaps crack the code with him. To dilute his venom like she would with watercolor and paint with it upon her canvas for all the world to see, and so she could say that she had danced with Joey Belladonna and gave him art.

She brushed away more tears as she completed the remainder of the two children on the page before her, the drawing of herself and the drawing of Alex. Two twin children, even though they weren't even a little bit related to one another.

If only there was a way in which she could contact him and not through the fan club only. He had showed to her those fleeting moments, those little nuggets, those glimpses to what resided behind those deep eyes. But much like with Joey, therein resided something more that he wasn't showing her. There was more to Alex than she had given him credit for, and more than Joey had given him credit for.

She then raised her head from the journal and she glanced back at Genie, who had curled up into a tight bun on the top of the couch and went to sleep.

Marla wouldn't be home for at least another half an hour.

She peered out the door to the porch, at the buildings across the street and the sliver of harbor beyond that. So much to New York she hadn't seen yet, and so much she hadn't done yet, but she wanted to do it all right then and there. She could feel the clock ticking, the end of the day coming. The end was upon her, just like how Cliff said it would be when he set out for the last time into Sweden. Beyond the drapes, beyond the veil, beyond the darkness.

To live in the great unknown and only find herself in a single small pinprick of it, but something else called her back. Even though she had pitched the tent herself there in Hell's Kitchen with Marla, the past called her back. The past to make peace with the present and ultimately the future.

Maybe it was in fact time to head on back home after all, but then again she had so much at her every whim and desire. There was no way she could leave now, but she also had to leave. To go with Bill to California and to be there for her mother and her father both as they sorted things out between them, and to find out more of the secrets they had kept from her all these years. Maybe it was time to head on back home, to be closer to her parents.

To be closer to the other side of the scene.

To be closer to Cliff again.

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No.1 – Tattoo Artist/Flower Shop AU

Flower shop au

"Ma, that's the third time you're calling! I won't arrive sooner, I'm on my way. On my way. Stop telling me to bring flowers for Aunt Christine. I have them, okay?" Danny's patience walks on thin ice. "I'm not demented and I feel kind of offended, you know? I'm a grown man." Danny pouts a little. His mother has a way of making him feel like the little boy he once was, day-dreaming with the tendency to be invested so deeply in his play that he forgot about the world.

"Daniel, I know my boy, okay? I know how work consumes you and I know you forget things. Flowers are not on top of the list of a detective. Don't make me ask Chin to save the day. Please, bring flowers and don't be too late." His mom's voice has a sweetness to it and Danny caves. She knows how she can twist him around her little finger. He can never be angry for too long if at all. "I promise, Ma. I haven't forgotten the flowers but I'll be an hour late. Work, Ma, yeah - I gotta go, uh-huh, yeah, bye Ma! Bye!" Danny makes kissing sounds and hangs up on her.

Shit. Flowers. Damn. Of course, he has deleted that task. The green stuff has dropped off his list between his first coffee and Chin's call about the body with no arms who’s terrified the tourists. The chief has been scared up with the rumor of a shark attack at the beach. He's had so many other important things to do. God. He can't show up empty-handed and he owes Chin already.

Connections are everything. He dials the number for emergency cases like this. "Kamekona, man, how are you?" He laughs.

His friend tsks him with this didactic tone the one Danny can't stand. "You need my service, brah, I can smell it. It'll cost you. You have to bring guests for lunch for seven days."

"You don't even know what I need!" Danny shouts with ruffled feathers.

"I know it's important to you and you gonna tell me what it is and I know I'll have less than twenty minutes to organize it. So, spit it out, hoaloha."

Danny feels Kame's smugness through his cell. "I need flowers, any flowers and I need them now. I'm on my way to a family gathering and I forgot the damn flowers. My mom’s going to kill me. I need something, anything on my way. ETA is fifteen minutes and I can't turn around. Any ideas? Let's make happen."

There's a pause at the other end. Danny hears Kamekona grunt and grumble. "There's one guy but, uh, you can't just walk into his shop."

"What? Who's that guy? He has a shop but I can't just walk in and buy stuff? Does he have flowers?"

"Kinda – "

"Kame! Don't drive me crazy. Are you my man or are you not?" Danny screams into his cell. Kamekona is always unperturbed by his shouting and that makes him want to yell into his phone even more.

"Give me ten minutes. I need to call him. He hates strangers. He won't let you pass. He needs my word you're a good guy."

"You're fucking kidding me, aren't you, Kame? Flowers, the guy sells flowers. God, why do I even ask, huh?" Danny scoffs and hits the wheel with his palm.

"You want flowers? You do as I say!" Kamekona's voice has changed. Danny jerks a bit with the seriousness in his tone. "He needs to know you're coming. Knock three times, have cash ready, and lose your badge and your gun. No questions."

"Jesus. Okayyy. Whatever. The main thing is to get the damn flowers." Danny gives in. “This guy has some serious issues, dude. Just sayin’”.

"His name is Steve, Steve McGarrett. He doesn't talk much. I'll make sure he's ready for you."

"Thanks, dude. I ow you. Yeah, yeah. I'll bring Chin and Kono for lunch." Danny hangs up and shakes his head. Good Gracious! He's sure he'll meet an incarnation of a hippie, chanting scary mantras and feeling utterly disturbed by the vibes of violence Danny's going to carry into his sacred space.

But he doens’t care. He’s good. He's safe. His mom won't be disappointed. His mood lifts. He's going to get his flowers. But he also sweats. His AC has given up on him this morning and he drives with open windows. He can bring his silver baby into the workshop only tomorrow.

The wind drives its fingers through Danny's hair. He turns the volume up and taps the rhythm of his favorite Bon Jovi song on the steering wheel. When the refrain blares through the speakers Danny sings along at the top of his voice 'lay your hands on me'. He performs a mean headshake and fist bumps the air 'lay your hands on me'.

He's ready for this Steve McGarrett.

Two hours later his mom still glows. Aunt Christine's smile makes the entire family happy. Normally she's grumpy and seriously hard to satisfy but Danny has achieved the impossible.

"Danny," his mom catches him alone in the kitchen, "tell me again how you've found a 'Torch Ginger'? I've never heard of that flower before. I thought you bring a nice bouquet. I'm so proud of you. You've made her very happy. Have you seen the intense red of the petals? Its incredible beauty?"

Danny kisses her cheek. "I'm happy you're happy. I have connections and yes, it’s a special kind of flower."

"Can you take me to this flower shop? I would love to get one of those bright red and magical looking plants, too." Ma Williams's soft laugh makes Danny hug her for a moment.

"I see what I can do, okay?"

Danny watches his mother walk out of the kitchen. He stares down at the tea towel but all he sees are the greenish eyes with the haunted look. Steve – Steve McGarrett. He recognizes a war veteran when he sees one.

Danny sighs and leans against the fridge. Kamekona's going to answer some important questions. A hippie, my ass. Danny feels slightly electrocuted by feelings and by the good looks of this hunk. The after-image that shows when he closes his eyes as if he has looked into a too-bright light bulb is the one of strained, corded muscles under inked skin.

TBC

Chapter 2

Also on AO3 - To Find A Way

[five-wow]

I WATCHED 10.22. HERE ARE SOME THOUGHTS UNDER THE CUT. i promise they won’t all be in full caps, but i feel i should also warn you that this was not proofread.

the episode is starting! it has started. the start has started.

lots of flashbacks from 10.21 with VERY dramatic music in the background and it’s very much working on me. EMOTIONS.

oh my gosh we’re now getting a flashback (a new one, not “previously on”) to wo fat and victor hesse planning some evil shit with daiyu mei serving them tea and it is EVEN MORE DRAMATIC than the previously on was. i am IMPRESSED. also maybe laughing a little bit, but in a way where i’m genuinely enjoying the extreme “LOOK, THIS IS BAD” of it, gosh.

fun way to remind us of how it all started, with these two planning anton’s extraction! they get to show us bits and pieces from the pilot while we still get something new.

wo fat: “blood. is blood.” hmmm, the show seems to want us to think he has a point but i’m mostly amused this is coming from the ultimate bad guy because yes, that seems about right. (hashtag you don’t owe people anything just because you’re related to them, shuddup.)

daiyu mei looks all shy and awkward when wo fat asks for her input but i’ve decided that’s an act to keep victor underestimating her.

steve and cole are in a car and fjdkfdjk wait catherine is a super code breaker now? idk, she may have displayed some skills that leaned that way in the past, but now she’s suddenly well-known as one of the best in that field even though that’s not even her field as far as we know? i. i don’t mind catherine getting brought up in conversation but this is such an odd way to do it.

“we were together for a buncha years” hahaha, fandom never really knows how to define the start and end of their relationship and it seems steve doesn’t, either.

“she was the one that got away. what’re you gonna do?” well, look sad and frowny while this guy you barely know throws you a somewhat awkward look because you’re suddenly baring your heart to him, apparently! (for real though, i get that people will be upset at this phrasing and i’m sort of thinking this is a lead in to things i won’t like at the end of the episode and that’s bad but for what it’s worth, i don’t mind this at all! she did slip away from him at a time where he thought they were going somewhere else and he’s talking in past tense now.)

cole is worried he ruined steve’s day by bringing up catherine and that’s sweet, actually! seals emotionally supporting seals.

OOF it is TIME for danny to get ABDUCTED. also: i love that steve immediately drops everything, including the very important super secret difficult to arrange meeting to maybe finally get some insight into this cipher that doris left him, to race to wherever danny is in his car. i feel like alerting hpd (or anyone else in five-0 who might be closer) would be a good idea, but it makes a lot of sense for steve to need to Be There himself.

ohhhhh steve continually nearly crashing his truck while yelling for danny but only hearing gunshots over the line is 👌👌👌. THE ANGST. THE TENSION. very good, very good.

the camaro is BURNING. well that’s one way to smack us in the face with the end of an era, damn.

steve is ALSO BURNING because he obviously tried to get inside the car ahhhh.

fjdkf steve calls tani with instruction about cameras and tani asks if everything is okay because he sounds upset and all he says is “danny’s been taken” and that’s how tani an junior find out, poor dears.

steve, instructing hpd: “we’re looking for detective danny williams. you know who he is, my partner, right? we’re looking for him.” YOU KNOW WHO HE IS. MY PARTNER.

steve is already out of breath from sheer stress and he’s just standing around the tech table with the team, my gosh. (I LOVE THIS.)

danny, bloody and chained up and facing his captor, a woman he already knows is very, very dangerous: [makes a joke about exchanging insurance information because they burned his car] (LOVE HIM TOO.)

OOF though, daiyu mei lets danny know she knows he has two kids and the jokes are over because that’s definitely the line with danny, god.

here’s the scene from the one preview clip i watched! i’m really enjoying daiyu mei, by the way. she’s still a totally bonkers way to bring the threat of wo fat back even after he’s dead, but she is genuinely threatening.

“i have the person you care about most in the world” hello yes i’m still yelling about that one and might not stop soon

daiyu mei telling steve not to make the same mistake he did with his father and “allow a loved one to die” is so mean but so good and narratively pretty darn cool.

we’re not even eleven minutes in and we’re already at “come alone, commander, or your friend dies”. [insert that escalated quickly meme]

steve thinks he has zero options except give in to exactly what daiyu mei wants and it’s very unsteve of him but also fits perfectly with the mindset they’ve maneouvred him into over the past few episodes and with DANNY BEING GONE so i like it. i like that steve is very obviously freaking the fuck out.

never though i would say this, but... steve, you should listen to adam. it’s shocking, especially this season, but he is making an actual good judgment.

steve alone in the elevator on the verge of either a panic attack or breaking down crying and curling up into a ball is A LOT.

steve goes to the meeting alone, gets a location and confirmation that danny is alive and then hands over the cipher, and that’s good but also... i mean, for real, if he had just printed some random symbols on a similar piece of paper (maybe even the same symbols but in a different order!) how on earth would daiyu mei have known?

OH. OHHHH. danny does the badass steve-ish thing where he pulls himself up by his shackles to somehow get himself free, holy fuck, yes man.

IT WORKS. knocked out the guard, got the keys, got a gun - damn son. not only do we get worried out of his mind steve, we ALSO get bamf danny, ahhhh.

AND THEN HE GETS SHOT IN THE SHOULDER, which is where all those promo pictures came from obviously, and also means we’re about to tick off the hurt part of h/c in an even bolder font than we already had.

fdjkfdjkfd steve’s litany of comforting little nonsense lines while he’s dragging danny to the car and getting him into it and NOT GETTING BEHIND THE WHEEL BUT STAYING WITH DANNY IN THE BACK is killing me slowly.

fdjkfd steve hugging danny’s bloody face in his lap oh my god

apparently that wasn’t GOOD ENOUGH YET because then they’re at the hospital and steve tells the doctor’s what’s up and they’re about to roll danny away and danny, half dead and according to steve in and out of consciousness, somehow finds the time to try to grAB AT STEVE’S ARM BLINDLY. steve: “hey, i’m with you buddy, it’s okay.” DEAD. NOT DANNY, ME. I AM VERY DEAD.

the entire team is stressed and worried and just dead quiet, watching danny and steve. ohhhh boy.

oh fuck oh fuck steve is praying and red-eyed and furious and telling god “you wanna take somebody? take me. not him, you take me.” and i have a very big massive weak spot for exactly this.

cole comes to find steve to offer to figure out the cipher thing and steve has a very hard time giving a single flying shit and then HANDS COLE HIS GUN. welllll. just letting go of stuff they never would have normally left and right, here. i was kind of expecting steve’s badge to follow.

tani has a lot of good worried moments and i love that.

danny is out of surgery!!! steve gets to see him!!!

oh GOD we get a sad version of all for one while steve is in danny’s hospital room and grabs danny’s hand and i am. oh. oh. not okay.

STILL ONLY JUST PAST THE HALFWAY POINT OF THE EPISODE.

it’s honestly kind of weird that cole has this much screentime (i know he was supposed to be back for the season 11 that will never happen, but with the way things turned out that’s not very relevant anymore in story), but i mind it less than i thought i would have. i like him, and i’m glad he has quinn with him now, because i always want more of her.

danny wakes up and his slightly loopy conversation with steve has me fjdkfdjkfd. d: [says you’re supposed to be happy when a patient wakes up] s, like he might still be about to cry: “i’m happy.” d: “yeah? yeah, me too.”

steve is hurting and blaming himself for everything (very in character) and danny tells him he’s already annoying and that if he had a dollar for every time steve saved his life he’d have like twenty bucks (also very in character) and i’m glad for that bit of comic relief and they need it, too, but somebody also needs to give steve a good shake until the thought that this is on him leaves his head. if anyone except daiyu mei is responsible here, it’s doris. blame doris, jfc.

danny, after nearly dying and only just waking up in the hospital, while he still has trouble speaking: “put [the call steve is getting] on speaker, would you, i’m bored.” more jokes! but it also makes me go fjdkfdjk because you will not convince me that this is not danny, extremely injured, still trying to take care of steve by distracting him from all the misery they’re in.

fjdkfd OKAY SO. plot stuff: the cipher translates to coordinates that apparently lead to the place where the mcgarretts thought doris was buried. steve says he knows the place because his dad used to take him there and ? because i always thought john sent his kids away pretty soon after doris died so he can’t have had much time to visit her grave a lot with them, but also just, the drama of it, wow, doris. send your son an encrypted message that sends him to your fake grave, why don’t you.

jfkdsjlfksljfds the mcgarretts have a family mausoleum now, apparently, omfg. and there was still a space with doris’s name on it? even though they’ve known for how many years by now that she was still alive oh my gosh

cole is along for the ride to doris’s fake grave and steve keeps dropping these little nuggets from his family history and cole keeps (rightfully!) looking a little confused and/or alarmed, poor guy, hahaha.

daiyu mei is running full tilt and doing some mad parcour shit in a suit and what looks like high heels and there is a whole action scene here with lots of players and constant shooting and some one-on-one fighting, but i am fully distracted by the shoewear.

oh, false alarm, probably! not quite high heels, just something ballarina like with a very tiny heel. that’s better.

fjdkfjdkfd OOF daiyu mei nearly kills steve, steve gets the upper hand, daiyu mei says some things and we’re given another flashback to wo fat and victor hesse and this time also john when he was held hostage, and suddenly we’re told he’s not surprised that doris had a secret son (wo fat) and that he suspected her death was staged.

OH MY GU==fdj

okay so those were typos but i’m LEAVING THEM because “whatever happens next, don’t tell my son. it would be too hard on him.” HELLO JOHN, FUCK YOU JOHN. he wanted??? to keep this secret??? from steve??? and also he doesn’t even acknowledge that he maybe has more than just a son. maybe there is a person called mary out there somewhere? might ring a bell, if you think about it long and hard.

wo fat: “you’re a good man, john mcgarrett.” i really don’t know if we’re supposed to agree with things wo fat says but he’s mostly voicing the opposite of what i feel this episode.

daiyu mei to steve: “you are your father.” oh gosh. oh no.

ahh, here’s a point where cole’s presence really starts to take away from other characters. he shows up to steve and daiyu mei’s confrontation to back steve up, and that obviously should have been any other character that we’ve known for way longer and have way more attachment to (junior! that would have been so good, or maybe lou, who’s also been here for seven years, or tani, who keeps worrying), especially, very very much especially when steve goes “book her, cole”. that’s just confusing, too. so far the cole and steve parallels have been thrown at us and now he’s suddenly in danny’s place.

32 minutes out of 42 and we’re at “one week later” and steve hopping through his garden to get to the beach chairs where danny is sitting. this is good but worrying for how early it comes.

danny says he misses the very nice nurse who brought him jello and steve tells him not to confuse a caregiver for someone who cares and danny goes “yeah? you know jealousy is not uh, pretty on you.” and then they’re both awkwardly quiet for a moment. dear lord.

AND THEN THINGS WENT PEARSHAPED. danny: “you all packed?” my heart is sinking fast. maybe i should just quit here and leave it at danny telling steve jealousy is not pretty on him (which implies other things are pretty on steve - let’s get back to that).

steve to danny, who is talking up hawaii (which is of course very good): “who are you?” i am having FLASHBACKS to junior asking tani that exact same thing just a few episodes ago.

danny seriously questions steve’s decision to just up and leave hawaii a bunch of times and yes, danny, good, grill him. this is a stupid plan.

danny: “you know, it don’t feel like it’s gonna be okay. it feels like- my main dude is leaving me.” HI STEVE. MAYBE DON’T. MAYBE DON’T GO. MAYBE DON’T HURT DANNY.

“you got a phone, right?” we’re seriously at that point. we are. seriously at that point. wow.

steve forces danny to get up to give him the frigging tenderest, dopily smiliest hug and it is so very sweet yet so very wrong.

“I LOVE YOU, MAN.” / “I LOVE YOU TOO.” THEY DID NOT YELL THAT BUT I AM BECAUSE THIS IS ALL I’VE WANTED FOR TWO YEARS and now it’s under these circumstances which ugh BUT I AM STILL HYPED. THEY GOT TO SAY IT AGAIN. GOOD. FUCKING GOOD.

“don’t make me come looking for you” danny says after he sits back down and without another word steve starts walking away and then he stops and looks back and catches danny looking over his shoulder but quickly looking away again and holy fucking damn if this isn’t how stories go when they try to tell us that two characters shouldn’t be parting because they don’t want to. turn around, steve. it’s so easy.

EDDIE. my gosh, ANOTHER blond guy who loves steve to pieces and who steve Should Not Just Leave, wtf.

eddie gets an i love you too and then a kiss and my heart! is having a hard time today!

oh LORD there’s a knock at the door and it’s the whole entire team and lou!!! is making me cry!!! and everyone whispers how much steve means to them at him while they’re hugging him and fjdkfd what. why is he leaving! it’s starting to sound like a worse decision by the second.

i could cry at all of these goodbyes seperately but right now i am also crying at tani immediately hugging noelani when she joins the pile of people who have said goodbye. ohhhh.

EVERYONE IS CRYING. not cool. VERY UNCOOL. also, honestly, i love that danny got to say goodbye seperately and it’s fitting that he just can’t watch steve actually walk out the door but also... he should have been here, gdi. now there’s this huge emotional team moment and he’s absent and it’s weird.

steve boards a plane and sits down and his phone beeps and it’s danny texting him “miss you already” and i cannot believe this is actual canon and had to pause to kind of laugh/gasp for air for a little bit.

and catherine shows up! i’ve been braced for this so i’m not surprised and it’s less bad than i thought in many ways but also. they talk about cath driving danny’s car and steve says they can’t have danny williams driving his own car and if that’s true, then why the hell are you leaving, steve. what are you doing to danny? (also. uh. danny’s car kind of went up in flames? he has a new one already? i. what.)

cath asks if steve is ready and they hold hands and steve turns to look out the plane window and smiles and that’s very suddenly it.

you know what? you know what, for the most part, i absolutely loved this. i was prepared for VERY BAD THINGS and i don’t enjoy steve leaving at the end at all and i have MANY NOTES on how things could have maybe ended even better but i. i am okay with this. i am okay with this! that is honestly more than i thought i would be able to say and i’m just VERY RELIEVED right now.

as for the show ending with steve and cath... that was weird, but... he also held danny’s hand this episode and that was supposedly platonic, and steve and cath did not suddenly have a big romantic kiss or get engaged, so i am choosing to take this as a platonic reunion with a person from steve’s past he still cares about, someone who travels a lot and was in hawaii to break that code and therefore this makes sense. he leaves with cath, and then, in a few weeks’ time, he comes back to danny (the person he cares about most in the world), and canon just, y’know, forgot to mention that little tidbit. it happens.

anyway, i had EMOTIONS and i still need to let all of this sink in and i hope you’re all doing okay after this whirlwind of a thing and ahhhh, it is so very weird that it’s over now. 💖

[iwillbeinmynest]

Hold On Loosely - Biker!Steve x Reader(f)    Chapter 13

Authors Notes:  If you’d like to be tagged please send me an ask. I keep better track of tags that way.

Word Count: 2k

Special Thanks: Here’s to @itsanerdlife for fueling my Biker obsession and being my Beta for this whole thing. To my girl over at @girl-next-door-writes who also beta’ed for me. And an extra shout out to @bettercallsabs for this beautiful graphic. She is amazing and y’all need to check her out!!

Notes/Warnings: (My notes and warnings are for the story as a whole. Some notes and Warnings will not apply to every chapter.) smoking (I do not support smoking. keep your lungs clean y’all.) drinking, (be of age, don’t be stupid) minor violence, backstabbing, attempted murder, anxiety, stress, mentions of death, car accident, trauma, …I think that’s it. let me know if I’ve missed something.

Master List

After the prospects arrived, Steve drilled them about various security duties. Three boys, no older than twenty-three, were stationed on the front porch and driveway and two more inside. The men inside with Y/N were older. One of them, Frank, looked as tough as nails and the other, Pietro, was younger but had a fire in his eyes that gave Y/N an odd sense of security. Who was she kidding, they all did. There was no denying the respect and loyalty they all had for Steve and she knew she was in good hands.

 Y/N kissed Steve good-bye and was almost relieved when he finally rode off. "At least, now, he won't be pacing trails in my carpet." She tried to smile at Frank as he escorted her back inside.

 "He isn't really the sit till type, Ma'am." He smirked.

 "No, he isn't." She needed to work before she thought too much about what he'd gone out to do. "You boys want some sweet tea or anything?"

 Pietro shook his head with a smile. 

 "No, Ma'am. Don't worry over us. You do whatever you want to. We'll be here if you need us." Frank nodded.

 Y/N gave them a smile and headed to her office. 

 She kept busy in her office for hours and her work did exactly what she needed it to. She was perfectly distracted, until her stomach rumbled. She looked up at the clock and saw that it was nearly eleven p.m.

 "No wonder." She mumbled to herself. It explained why her eyes seemed to be crossing a little.

 She went down the hall towards the kitchen. She saw Pietro watching t.v. while Frank's attention was drawn to the window as he peered through the blinds. Y/N ignored them and began to make enough pasta for all the prospects and herself. Bum arm or not, cooking was relaxing and she could use some of that.

 She didn't get farther than putting the water on the stove when a shuffling of feet caught her attention.

 She looked into the living room to see both Frank and Pietro at the door. Frank was already halfway out and Pietro looked back at Y/N. He held a hand up, signaling her to stay put.

 Y/N didn't really know them from Adam but she obeyed for Steve's sake. Then, she heard a familiar voice. 

 "And just who do you think you are?!" The attitude was as thick as her slightly northern accent. Y/N new that voice anywhere and she rolled her eyes.

 "Don't matter who I am, this ain't a good time, Miss." Frank tried to be polite but even Y/N could hear him about to lose his temper.

 "Y/N is my friend and now is as good a time as any!" Mandie argued.

 Y/N pushed past Pietro and put a hand on Frank's shoulder to catch his attention. "Mandie, what are you doing here so late?"

 "Well, I- Y/N! What happened to you?!" Mandie finally got a look at her face and was shocked to see her so beat up.

 Y/N bit her lip and reached out for Mandie's hand, tugging her in. She looked at Frank, who looked like he was about to physically remove Mandie from the property. "She can come in, it's fine."

 "Steve said no visitors." He countered, his brows full of conflict.�� He wanted to follow what Steve said but Y/N was Steve's girl.

 "If he has a problem, he can talk to me about it later." She reassured him. "Come on, Mandie. I was just about to make dinner."

 Mandie sat at the island bar while Y/N cooked and told her all about the accident she'd been in that morning. 

 "Gracious, Y/N." Mandie shook her head when Y/N finished. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

 Y/N waved it off. "I'll be fine if I don't think about it. You sure you're not hungry? I made enough for a biker gang." She joked.

 "Really, I'm fine. Speaking of bikers, how long are all these men staying here? This is a southern town and people will talk, ya know."

 Y/N was a little put off by what Mandie was implying. "I'm not sleeping with them and really it's no ones business who I invite over. And furthermore, people talking is kind of the point."

 Mandie frowned. "What do you mean?"

 "The accident wasn't an accident. Someone planned it. That's why all these bikers are here watching over the house."

 "How long will they be here?" 

 Y/N shrugged. "As long as they're needed probably."

 "I'm so sorry." Mandie hung her head for a moment before looking up at Y/N with regretful eyes.

 "For what?" Y/N didn't know where this sudden turn in Mandie's emotions came from.

 "If I hadn't taken you to that biker bar, none of this would have happened. Your life could have gone on as usual and now look at you. Stuck in this house like a hostage by a bunch of dirty bikers." Mandie practically spit the last words out of her mouth like they were poison. 

 Y/N frowned and inhaled to defend them when the front door opened and she recognized the distinct gait of heavy boots.

 Steve walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see Mandie at the island. "What are you doing here?" He asked her impulsively.

 "I was coming to find out why my best friend hadn't been talking to me only to discover she’s been beaten up by your friends." She grumbled.

 "Mandie, stop." Y/N leaned back, subconsciously distancing herself from Mandie. "Not all bikers are friends and Steve has done nothing but help me from the moment I met him."

 Steve took a quick breath before finishing his walk to Y/N. He gave her a short kiss and then looked suspiciously at Mandie.

 When Mandie practically undressed Steve with her eyes, he snaked an arm around Y/N.

 "I'm going to send the boys home then grab a shower. You good here or should I keep Frank around?" Steve asked his best girl.

 Y/N shook her head. "Send them home. They can take this pasta with them, though. I didn't get a chance to feed any of them yet."

 Momentarily forgetting about Mandie, Steve was filled with pride that his girl was gonna feed the guys. That's something old ladies do. He kissed her a little harder this time. "Love you." 

 Y/N flushed red at the PDA but replied, "I love you, too. Go," She pushed him back slightly with a chuckle. "Send them home and shower. You smell like the road."

 Steve smirked as he walked backwards out of the kitchen. "I thought you liked when I smell like the road? Never heard you complain before." It reassured Steve to see her smiling and teasing him. Made him feel a little better about leaving her earlier to go to the club. 

 "Go!" She shooed him away, still flushing from his implication.

 When Y/N looked back to Mandie her chuckle faded. Mandie looked like she was about to explode. "What's wrong?" Y/N asked.

 "Are you out of your mind?!" Mandie’s voice was hushed but angry. "You love him? He's a biker! The only thing he loves is the club! And what, he's living here, too?"

 "Yeah, but he's protecting me. Why are you-" 

 "You're so stupid! He's only here to sleep with you. Once he gets that he'll bail and you know it. You're fooling yourself if you believe that he loves you. This is just because you've been in a dry spell since Danny. Shame on you for forgetting about him!"

 "Mandie, stop it! What is wrong with you?!" Y/N's voice had gotten loud enough that Frank stepped in. 

 "Everything okay in here?" He asked with tense shoulders.

 Mandie inhaled to speak but Y/N cut her off. "Everything is fine." She said with a hurt look at Mandie. "She was just leaving. Please make sure she gets to her car."

 Mandie's jaw dropped. "Wow, kicking me out. Some friend you are. I was just trying to help you."

 "Goodnight, Mandie." Was Y/N's only reply.

 Mandie scoffed before snatching her purse from the counter top and all but stomping to the door and down the porch steps. She got in her car with a slammed door and she hurried back out of the driveway and down the street. 

 "Quite a piece of work, that one." Frank growled when he came back inside. "You'll have to excuse my evesdroppin' but I didn’t like a thing she said to you." When Y/N looked a little surprised to hear he'd been listening, he clarified, "VP's orders."

 Y/N nodded and leaned on the back of the couch, running her hands over her face with a sigh. "Yeah, well, she's always been a fair-weathered friend. I just don't know what got into her all of a sudden."

 Frank shook his head. "Don't know but I get a funny feelin' about her."

 "I know." Y/N sighed. "Well, now that she's gone you boys can head home, too."

 "Maybe we should wait until VP is outta the shower." Pietro suggested.

 "No," She offered a tired smile. "Y'all go home. I'm sure he won't be in there long."

 Frank and Pietro shifted their weight but conceded. Frank made her set the alarm behind them and she could tell he listened for the beeps from the other side of the door, which made her chuckle and call out another 'good-night', which he returned. She peeked through the blinds and watched all five bikes ride off.

 Y/N went into the kitchen and swore under her breath. She'd forgotten to send the pasta back with them. Oh, well.

 After she'd cleaned up, she could hear Steve using the blow dryer. She needed the trash to be taken out as it had started to smell from who knows what. She thought about waiting for Steve to do it but when she got another whiff of something rancid, she couldn't take it.

 She tied up the bag and hurried out the front door to take it to the outside bins. She groaned to see that the bin had already been taken out to the curb. With the bag at arm's length, she walked down her driveway and tossed it quickly into the bin.

 Y/N grinned at herself. This was the most mundane thing to happen to her in a while and it was ridiculous how much it entertained her.

 The sound of a bike heading toward her gave her pause. Had Frank or one of the boys forgotten something?

 She slowly backed up to give whoever it was room to pull into the driveway but when the biker drove slowly past, Y/N's blood ran cold.

 He wore a black bandanna across his nose and mouth and sunglasses to cover his eyes, despite the fact that it was nearly midnight. He wore a long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows that showed off his ink. On his forearm was a cassette tape and a blue skull with a red mohawk. 

 Frozen in place, Y/N couldn't breathe. A flash of the accident. Pain in her chest.

 A rev of the biker's engine and he sped off.

 Y/N ran back inside and when she opened the door she collided with Steve. He kept her from falling and she buried herself against him as she started crying.

 "What are you doing outside?!" He yelled. He was more scared than angry but it didn't sound that way.

 "He- He- That man- it wasn't Frank. I thought it was- his tattoos. I think he was- from the accident-"

 Steve moved Y/N out if his way and set the alarm before shutting the door behind him. He could still hear the distant rumble of a chopper. He hopped on his bike and took off, following the sound.

 Y/N grabbed her phone and a knife from the kitchen before locking herself in her room. She dialed for Nat and silently begged that she would pick up.

 "Hey, you."

 "Nat! Please send someone! TheguyfromthecrashwashereandStevetookoffafterhimandimalone-"

 Nat cursed. "Whoa! Y/N, slow down! Where are you?"

 Y/N tried to slow her breathing and stop crying so she could be understood. "In my room. Steve took off after him. I'm alone, here." A sob ripped through her.

 "After who?" 

 "The biker from the crash."

 Nat cursed again. "Stay where you are. We're coming. Don't leave your room!"

 "Okay," Y/N's voice was a little calmer now. "Okay."

**************

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[lesbian-deadpool]

Rocky Raccoon

Y/N has created a chat.

Y/N has renamed the chat: Earths Mightiest Survivors

Y/N has added, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Rocket, Okoye, Rhodey.

Y/N: Hey, so how are all of you on this fine day? :)

Okoye: What's wrong with her?

Natasha: This is her way of trying to cope with everything.

Y/N: I :) Am :) So :) Sad :)

Y/N: Ouch :) The :) Heartbreak :)

Steve: You know what makes me sad, Y/N?

Steve: The chat name!

Steve: THE CHAT NAME

Y/N: It may make you sad. But, hey, at least it's accurate :)

Bruce: She still has her sass I see.

Y/N: Hi Bruice, you know what I'm still wondering about? When you're gonna get off of your smart ass and GET TONY OUT OF SPACE

Thor: How do we even know he's still alive?

Y/N: GASP! THOR, HOW DARE YOU?!

Bruce: TAKE THOSE WORDS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH RIGHT NOW!

Thor: I'M SO SORRY. I'm just so sad.

Thor: I've lost, almost everything important to me. I just want you to be prepared for bad news if it comes. Which I dearly hope it does not.

Natasha: I've never seen Thor sad before.

Natasha: I don't like it.

Steve: No one does.

Bruce: It's breaking my heart.

Y/N: Ditto, to both of those.

Natasha: Take it back.

Natasha: Where's the receipt?

Natasha: I don't want sad Thor anymore.

Okoye: Quick someone make him happy.

Y/N: ON IT

Y/N: SQUIRREL TALK TO ME

Y/N: FUR BABY

Y/N: FLUFFY BOY

Y/N: What does Thor call you?

You: Oh yeah!

Y/N: RABBIT

Y/N: TALK TO ME RABBIT

Rocket: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!

Rocket: Why won't you just let me cry in peace?

Natasha: Hold on. How does he have a phone?

Bruce: He's from space, probably had one the whole time.

Natasha: Makes sense.

Okoye: Or he stole one.

Natasha: That makes more sense.

Y/N: Hi, Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: It's Rocket.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: Rocket. AND I'M NOT A RACCOON

Natasha: Does he really not know he's a raccoon?

Steve: I don't think so.

Bruce: Well he is a TALKING raccoon, from SPACE, maybe he's never seen one before.

Okoye: I say we show him one.

Steve: No, that would be awful, and most likely scaring.

Natasha: Yes, that would be so awful.

Natasha: Let's do it.

Steve: Natasha! I thought better of you!

Natasha: Did you really?

Steve: No. No, I actually didn't.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: Rocket.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: Rocket!

Steve: What is she doing?

Natasha: I have no clue. But I am enjoying this immensely.

Okoye: Same here, I just made some popcorn.

Natasha: Cool, can I have some?

Okoye: Sure.

Bruce: What about me?

Okoye: No.

Bruce: What? Why?

Okoye: There's not enough.

Bruce: Oh, okay. Fine.

Thor: May I have some? I am so very depressed.

Okoye: Of course.

Bruce: WHAT

Bruce: I don't get any, but he does?

Bruce: I see how it is.

Okoye: Ugh! Fine, you can have some.

Bruce: YAY

Steve: How can any of you eat at a time like this?!

Okoye: Leave us alone, Steve.

Natasha: Yeah, this is how we grieve.

Thor: With delicious popped corn.

Bruce: And watching Y/N be weird.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: ROCKET!

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon checked into his room. Only to find Gideon's bible.

Rocket: What? Who the fuck is Gideon?

Y/N: But Rocky had come equipped with a gun. To shoot off the legs of his rival.

Rocky: Your leg's? Cause they soon will be, if you don't stop this shit.

Y/N: His rival it seems had broken his dreams. By stealing the girl of his fancy.

Y/N: Her name was Magill and she called herself Lil. But everyone knew her as Nancy.

Rocky: Who the fuck is that?!

Rocky: I don't know anyone called Magill, Lil, or Nancy, whatever the fuck her name is.

Natasha: Steves head's about to explode with the amount of swearing in this chat.

Steve: That's never gonna go away is it?

Thor: Never goNNA GIVE YOU UP

Bruce: Thor how do you know that?!

Natasha: I'm dyING.

Thor: Y/N taught me before I left for... Asgard...

Okoye: Is he alright?

Bruce: He's dissociating. He'll be fine in a minute.

Y/N: Now she and her man who called himself Dan. Were in the next room at the hoedown.

Rocket: Who in the hell is Dan?!

Y/N: Rocky burst in, and grinning a grin. He said, "Danny boy, this is a showdown".

Rocket: What the hell is she doing?

Steve: No clue.

Thor: Nor I.

Natasha: Wait! I do. And just let me tell you, it's amAZING.

Steve: Natasha you're enjoying this a bit too much.

Natasha: I am enjoying this the regular amount, Steven.

Bruce: Is she alright?

Steve: Probably not. We're all going a little crazy with grief.

Okoye: Not me bitch. I'm just the same old, Michonne.

Steve: Who?

Y/N: But Daniel was hot, he drew first and shot. And Rocky collapsed in the corner.

Y/N: Now the doctor came in stinking of gin. And proceeded to lie on the table.

Y/N: He said, "Rocky, you met your match".

Rocket: Do you wanna meet yours?

Thor: YeS FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Natasha: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Okoye: Twenty on Y/N.

Bruce: Nah, no offence to Y/N, but Rocket would destroy her.

Natasha: Are you shitting me, Bruce? Y/N has kicked MY ass, the raccoon's no match for her.

Thor: I have to disagree with you, Lady Natasha. Have you seen Rabbits gun? She would be dead within a second.

Natasha: We NEVER said anything about weapons!

Okoye: Yeah, what are you? Some sort of monster?

Thor: No of course not.

Natasha: But I do guess they could have armour and equally matched weapons.

Steve: What?

Steve: NO

Steve: NO BETTING ON THEM. NO MAKING THEM FIGHT. NO CONSIDERING WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT BETWEEN THEM. AND ESPECIALLY  NO GLADIATOR STYLE FIGHTING.

Natasha: Ooo, bolded, and italics, you are mad.

Steve: I'm not mad. Just disappointed.

Natasha: No not that, that's worse!

Thor: Not the eyebrows of disappointment! Anything but the eyebrows of disappointment!

Bruce: We're sorry, please forgive us.

Okoye: Why do I feel like I need this random white guy to be proud of me.

Bruce: That's the power of, Steve Rogers.

Natasha: Some may think it's his advanced EVERYTHING that makes him a superhero. But it's not. His true superpower is making you want him to be proud of you.

Natasha: It's a curse for everyone who's not him.

Y/N: And Rocky said, "Doc, it's only a scratch. And I'll be better, I'll be better, Doc, as soon as I am able".

Rocket: I'll give you a scratch soon...

You: Now Rocky Raccoon, he fell back in his room. Only to find Gideon's bible.

Rocket: Once again, who the fuck is Gideon? WHO THE FUCK ARE ANY OF THESE PEOPLE?!

Y/N: Gideon checked out, and he left it no doubt. To help with good Rocky's revival.

Rocket: I hated every minute of that.

Bruce: Yes, yes. That was amazing.

Natasha: Standing ovation worthy.

Y/N: Thank you, thank you. I perform to make people happy.

Thor: So entertaining.

Rocket: You bastard.

Okoye: Gotta love me a free performance, however, where is the tip jar? My black card's gotta go somewhere.

Rocket: I fucking hate you all.

Rocket has left the chat.

Thor: Oh, no rabbit.

Thor: :(

Steve: See, look you made our new friend sad.

Natasha: I doubt that. I just taught him how to use YouTube, now he's humming along to it.

Natasha: Btw Steve. Better student than you.

Steve: I'm gonna go ahead and ignore that.

Steve: Y/N?

Y/N: Hmm?

Steve: What the hell was that?

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon?

Y/N: The Beatles?

Steve: ???

Y/N: You don't know The Beatles?!

Steve: I've heard of them.

Y/N: But you never listened?

Steve: No?

Y/N: DISGUSTING. YOU DIRTY HEATHEN SINNER.

Y/N: You've been in the modern world now for what? Six years? And it never occurred to you once, to listen to The Beatles?!

Y/N: I'm disappointed in you, Steven.

Steve: What?

Natasha: Oh, no. That's so much worse than Steve's disappointment.

Thor: I pity you, Sir Steve.

Bruce: You know you've done something awful if Y/N is disappointed in you.

Okoye: I don't even know who she is, and I know that.

Natasha: Just out of curiosity. Are you ever gonna do that again? Cause I loved that. A lot.

Y/N: Yes. I have one for everybody.

Bruce: Do Tony's. I miss his presence in this chat.

Y/N: Yeah, sure. I have more than one for Tony.

Steve: Wait. Why does Tony get more than one?

Natasha: Someone's jealous they only got a beard in the divorce.

Steve: What?

Bruce: You say that a lot.

Steve: That's because I am in a constant state of confusion, thanks to all of you.

Natasha: You're welcome.

Steve: That wasn't a compliment.

Natasha: But still...

Bruce: No wait. Do Tony's later. I remembered his face, and I need to go cry.

Bruce: Again.

Bruce: Bye.

Bruce has left the chat.

Steve: Poor guy.

Y/N: Speaking of leaving the chat.

Y/N: Steve, piss off, and go listen to The Beatles. Now.

Steve: ... okay.

Steve has left the chat.

Y/N: Thor would you please join him?

Thor: Of course. I am quite excited.

Thor has left the chat.

Y/N: At least he's happy.

Natasha: At the expense of Bruce crying?

Y/N: You win some you lose some.

Y/N: But in all honesty. It turned out better than I originally planned. I would have made you all cry if it meant Thor was happy.

Natasha: I see, and I wholly agree.

Okoye: That man is a giant puppy, and needs to be protected at all costs. If it came to it, I would sacrifice all of you for him in a heartbeat.

Y/N: Omg, thank you for the compliment.

Natasha: That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

Y/N: I'm gonna go watch Thor be happy now, and force Steve to listen to the best songs.

Y/N: Deuces!

Natasha: Bye, Y/N.

Okoye: Bye.

Y/N has left the chat.

Natasha: That song really made me want some gin, I'm gonna go find some.

Okoye: Oh, count me in!

Natasha has left the chat.

Okoye has left the chat.

Rhodey: You add me to this chat

Rhodey: While I'm passed out after crying over Tony.

Rhodey: An hour I was asleep. AN HOUR!

Rhodey: I LEFT YOU ALONE FOR AN HOUR!

Rhodey: And you do this shit?!

Rhodey has left the chat.

Rhodey has joined the chat.

Rhodey: Also, Y/N would totally kick Rocket's ass.

Rhodey has left the chat.

Wade has joined the chat.

Wade has added, Loki.

Wade: Don't act like you're dead you little shit.

Wade has added, Scott.

Wade: Is you Skrull? Is you Loki?

Wade has added, Clint.

Wade: And what the fuck happened to you?

Wade: Oh, no wait! We can't find out till April! Like I can wait that long!

Wade: Bye bitches, see you then. I'm gonna go get ME some gin and tacos, and gorge myself into a food and alcohol-induced coma until April!

Wade has left the chat.

Clint: What was that?

Scott: No clue.

Loki: Your regular local dumbass is my guess.

Wade has joined the chat.

Wade: NO TALKING UNTIL ENDGAME, HOES!

Clint has been disconnected.

Scott has been disconnected.

Loki has been disconnected.

Wade: APRIL!

Wade: Also, did you know that the song, Rocky Raccoon, is what inspired the creation of our favourite homicidal furball.

Wade: The more you know, right?

Wade: anyway...

Wade: APRIL!

The chat has unexpectedly been disconnected.

[flowerfan2]

Affinity - Ch. 5 (10.05)

McDanno, A03

A continuous story of season 10 episode codas.  Steve may describe their relationship as a dysfunctional marriage, but at some point, will he and Danny take a closer look at what it really could be?   

Chapter 5

You’re taking Charlie trick-or-treating near your house tonight, right?

Danny tugs his phone out of his pocket, squints at the text, and writes back.

Yeah, my neighborhood has the best decorations.  And Ms. Tanaka on the corner gives out whole candy bars.  Why? 

Danny pokes his head into Charlie’s bedroom to check on his son’s progress while he waits for Steve to respond. Charlie is still deciding between the Superman costume that Rachel bought for him, and a vampire ghost contraption that he insisted on creating with an old sheet and magic markers about twenty minutes ago.

 Probably nothing.  But we caught a case with a guy who broke out of a basement cell. Potentially very dangerous and unstable.  Nowhere near your place, though.

 Sure, I buy that.

No, really.  Ask Max if you want.

“Danno, I’m ready now!”  Charlie announces.  Danny assures him that the blood drops and fangs drawn on the sheet draped over his head look extremely scary, and they head outside, plastic pumpkin in hand.

Danny can catch up with Steve later. He’s not falling for his escaped basement monster joke.  For now he’s going to ignore Steve, and focus on Charlie.

That’s been his approach all week, ever since Steve kissed him.

Not just with Charlie, of course. Danny has, in no particular order, focused on (1) badgering Tani about her mermaid costume; (2) taking Quinn out to lunch to try to get himself to stop thinking of her as the enemy; (3) hassling Grace about midterms that she should be paying more attention to; (4) making sure that if he was paired up with Steve on a case they had another member of the team with them; and (5) also Charlie, who had a very important Lego club meeting on Wednesday after school.  

 All of this was designed to help him put things in perspective.  That perspective being that whatever Steve was up to last week after Danny hit his head was just about being a good friend and partner – work partner – not anything else.

 Danny’s not sure it’s working.

 That night last week, feeling Steve press a kiss to his cheek, Danny had felt something blossom in his chest that was far, far too dangerous to think about.  He can’t go down this road, not now, and really, not ever.  Not unless he wants to risk what he has with Steve.

But what if…? his treacherous brain keeps asking.  What if it wouldn’t ruin what he has with Steve?  What if this is something Steve wants?

 Steve had clearly thought Danny was asleep.  Does it mean that Steve has romantic feelings for him, but doesn’t want Danny to know? Or does it mean there’s nothing to know?

 Danny wishes he had been brave enough to tilt his head, to catch Steve’s warm lips with his own.  To see if Steve would have continued the kiss, lean close with just the right amount of pressure.  Slowly open up for Danny, letting him in, trading soft kisses and flickers of tongue until their hands started to wander, bodies pressed close…

 Danny closes down this train of thought abruptly.  Unfortunately it’s a train that keeps coming around, like it’s circling a Christmas tree, insisting on chugging itself into Danny’s mind over and over and over.  But he cannot be having these thoughts about Steve. His best friend.  His male best friend, who has shown no interest whatsoever in any male partners for the ten years Danny has known him (except you, a voice in his head whispers… maybe he’s shown an interest in you).

 The whole situation makes him dizzy, and not just from the blood rushing to his nether regions.  So Danny tries as hard as he can to focus on non-Steve things. End of story.

 It should be easy enough not to think about his partner tonight, since he’s keeping busy trick-or-treating with Charlie.  Except nothing about Steve is ever easy.

 His phone vibrates again, twice in a row, and Danny sighs.  It’s not as if he can ignore Steve’s texts.  Steve is his boss, after all (and right there, right there, is another reason nothing can happen between them.  As if Steve had any respect for the rules, which he doesn’t, but Danny does. Usually.)

 Can you believe Max is visiting with his son?  Wanna talk to him?

 Danny, you there?

 Danny gives up and calls Steve, trailing behind Charlie as they walk to another house, this one with cute little pumpkins on stakes lighting their driveway.

 “What is it?  I’m out with Charlie, can it wait?”

 “Hey, you didn’t tell me you were going as Oscar the Grouch.  Thought Charlie was too old for Sesame Street?”

 “Ha ha, very funny.”

 “I thought so.”  Steve’s voice turns serious.  “But really, there is a very angry guy roaming the streets tonight. Worse than you before your coffee.”

 Danny pauses, putting a hand on Charlie’s shoulder and looking around for anything out of the ordinary.  He doesn’t see any costumed kids older than about middle school age, and the parents tagging along don’t look like they’re hyped up on anything but sugar.

 “It’s quiet here.  Not even any obnoxious teenagers.”

 “Okay, just keep an eye out and let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

 It’s a funny thing to say on Halloween, but Danny gets it.  The case may be bothering Steve more than he’s letting on.  “You need me to come in?  I can drop Charlie at Rachel’s-”

 “No, Danno,” Charlie whines, appearing in front of him with a pleading look on his face.  “Stay with me, you promised.”

 “You’re fine, Danny.  Everyone else is here.  Have fun with Charlie.”

 They hang up, although Danny feels a little pang.  <i>Everyone else is here.</i>  Even Max.  At least Quinn isn’t wearing some kind of sexy soldier costume tonight, if she sticks with what she bought while she and Danny were having lunch earlier in the week. Although Steve will probably appreciate the Top Gun outfit just as much.

 Danny sighs and trots to catch up to Charlie.  They hit a few more houses, but before long, Charlie is flagging.  He looks up at Danny with bright eyes, and Danny crouches down next to him.

 “I don’t feel so good, Danno.”

 Danny feels his son’s forehead. It’s a little warm, and Charlie’s eyes are bright.  “It’s time to head home anyway, bud.  You already got more candy than I ever did.”  He takes Charlie’s plastic pumpkin from him and nods appreciatively.  “Tons more.”

 “More than Grace ever got?”

 Danny grins, and slings an arm around Charlie’s thin shoulders.  “Definitely more than Grace.”

 Back at home Danny takes Charlie’s temperature.  He’s barely got a fever, but he’s thoroughly wiped out from all the excitement.  He doesn’t even protest when Danny gives him some Tylenol and puts him to bed.

 It’s only afterwards, sitting on his couch checking over Charlie’s candy, that Danny remembers Kamekona’s party. He had planned to head over there with Charlie for a little while after trick-or-treating.  He sends Kame a quick text with his apologies.  Just something else he’s missing tonight.

 Danny helps himself to a mini-Snickers and clicks on the television.  He tells himself that the team probably isn’t going to make it back to the party either, not with the cases that sprung up tonight.  Maybe he and Steve can stop by later in the week to meet Flippa’s mom while she’s visiting.

 Danny channel surfs idly, getting up to hand out candy every time the doorbell rings.  The pace of trick-or-treaters eventually slows, and Danny gets sucked into a show about a werewolf, a vampire, and a ghost who are roommates.  It reminds him of the basement escapee Steve warned him about, and he takes a minute to do another check on his windows and doors.  Even though Tani texted him that the guy was found, you can never be too safe.

 He’s on his way back to the couch when the doorbell rings again.  It’s Steve, wearing a creepy mask and making a hooting noise that is probably supposed to be scary.

 “Come on in, you dope.”

 “How’d you know it was me?”

 Danny doesn’t dignify this with an answer.  “Want some candy?”  He holds out the plastic pumpkin to Steve, who takes it on his way to the couch.

 “Thanks.  Got any more beer?”

 Danny retrieves two cold beers from the kitchen and joins Steve, who is methodically picking through Charlie’s take and setting aside all of the Butterfingers.  Steve knows Charlie doesn’t like them.  The two of them had debated the merits of various candy bars a few weeks ago when Steve got him going by suggesting to Charlie that he hand out bags of pretzels instead of candy.  Charlie was not in favor.

 “Why aren’t you at Kamekona’s?” Danny finally asks, when they are settled in front of the television, the next episode of the ridiculous roommates show starting up.

 Steve barely finishes chewing his latest Butterfinger and frowns at Danny.  “I heard Charlie was sick.  Figured I’d better keep you company.”

 “That was very thoughtful of you,” Danny says, as Steve returns his gaze to the television.  

 “Besides, just because our guy didn’t turn out to be a monster, it is Halloween,” Steve says.  “You never know what might happen.”

 Danny swallows hard, and tries not to read anything into Steve’s comment.  Charlie is sleeping in the next room, after all.  And Halloween isn’t exactly a romantic holiday.

 But then Steve stretches and slings his arm over the back of the couch, practically around Danny’s shoulders, and slides a little closer to him.  Danny smiles and leans into Steve’s warmth.  He almost forgot Steve’s love for scary date movies.  Maybe something is happening tonight after all.

[samsexualdeancurious]

Overdue | Chapter Two

Pairing: McDanno

Words: 1,212

Warnings: None

Summary: A case

Written for @markinmi1​

Betaed by @cowandcalf

Masterlist

He’s woken far too soon by his ringing phone. Steve groans and fumbles around on the nightstand until he finds it. It’s plugged in, but he doesn’t remember doing that. He must’ve done it in his sleep or something. Whatever, at least it’s charged.

“McGarrett,” he grumbles, stretching and savoring the rush of blood to his muscles.

“Steve, we’ve got a case.” Chin sounds like he’s in the car. Kono’s softer voice is audible in the background talking to someone else. “HPD thinks they’ve got a serial arsonist and they want us to take a look. Duke would’ve called himself, but he’s on his way to another fire.”

“I’ll get Danny. He and Grace stayed here last night, so we’ll have to drop her off at Rachel’s on the way,” Steve says, already wide awake. He grabs a clean shirt and jeans, beginning to dress one-handed. “Text me the address.”

“You got it, boss. We’ll see you there.”

Steve is a wise man who gets a travel cup of coffee- with Danny’s preferred amount of sugar and cream- ready before waking Danny. He actually wakes Grace up first so she can get ready. Thankfully she’s a smart girl who got everything she could ready last night, having been rushed off to school early and unprepared one too many times before. She’s dressed and ready to go in no time- Steve is genuinely impressed.

Danny grumbles about being woken, but accepts the coffee as a peace offering and settles for muttering something that sounds an awful lot like “should've just left your phone die on the kitchen table in the night, criminals don't care about Saturdays” and Steve wants to ask for details, but he's prevented by Grace waiting at the foot of the stairs with Danny's shoes in her hands and her bag slung over her shoulder.

“No makeup?” Danny asks, sitting on the couch to put on his shoes.

She looks genuinely offended. “What’s the point of wearing makeup if I’m just going to have to shower after tennis and wash it all off?”

He shrugs. “Hey. I don’t know these things.”

Grace just rolls her eyes, which prompts even more teasing from Danny. The banter continues all the way to Rachel’s house. Steve just soaks it in- who knows how much longer he’ll be able to enjoy it.

The scene is pretty calm when Steve and Danny arrive, just the fire inspector and crime scene techs milling around while officers finish up taking witness statements.

“Good morning,” the fire inspector says in greeting when they approach.

“Hey, Hikaru,” Danny says. “Got anything for us yet?”

“Well we’re going to have to wait on the tests, but I can tell you this fire was not an accident.” Hikaru beckons and they follow him into the burnt out shell of what was once a family home. He stops in the kitchen. “The gas stove was still on when the trucks got here. They had to turn it off. That in itself was pretty bad, but it wasn’t on long enough before ignition to cause this much damage. The perp used some kind of accelerant, spread on the walls and throughout the ground floor.”

“The family?” Danny asks, already dreading the answer. He saw the minivan in the driveway, front-end charred.

“Out of town, thank God. They took a last minute flight to visit a dying family member on the mainland.” Hikaru nods at the van. “Took a cab the airport so they wouldn’t have to worry about parking.”

Shit. “So the perp might not have known they weren’t in the house.”

“Looks like it.” Hikaru sighs, staring around him at the wreckage. “I think I’m done here, so forensics can do their thing. I’m going to head over to the second fire. That family wasn’t so lucky.”

Danny’s stomach twists and he hears Steve take a deep breath to steady himself.

Hikaru leaves and the crime scene techs take over. There’s not much else Steve and Danny can do, so they decide to follow Hikaru to the second fire, only a ten minute drive away. Chin and Kono are still on scene watching the firefighters finish putting out the last of the fire on the far end of the building.

“When did this one start?” Steve asks, approaching Kono where she’s chatting with Duke. Danny is close behind him and he keeps glancing over at where Chin is helping Max and an assistant unfold body bags.

“About twenty minutes after first responders arrived at the other fire,” Duke replies.

“He planned this,” Kono sighs.

The radio in Duke’s cruiser, parked a few feet away, crackles to life. He’s quick to snatch it up, listening to the dispatcher and Danny frowns when he recognizes the code. Duke rubs a hand over his face, nodding and assuring her that he’s on his way. When he turns to face them, Danny already knows what he’s going to say.

“We officially have a serial arsonist.”

Danny honestly loves seeing Steve work, despite the situation. He’s quick to set up a perimeter of the neighborhood, though neither of them actually think it'll be that easy to catch the perp. This family was thankfully able to get out of the house in time- apparently their emergency plan already included going through the first floor windows which the arsonist didn’t plan for. The five of them are being treated for smoke inhalation while neighbors and the officers already on scene work on controlling the fire until the trucks arrive.

“I don’t like how thin we’re spread,” Danny says, taking a bucket from Steve and dumping it. He knows Steve wants nothing more than to start the search for the perp, but the main goal right now is to keep the fire from spreading to other houses. At least their efforts seem to be working.

“Me neither,” Steve agrees.

Sirens announce the arrival of the trucks at last and Steve pulls the team over to the Camaro for a discussion of what they know and what evidence they're waiting on.

“This guy knows what he’s doing,” Kono points out. “He knows the response times and how long it will take to put the fire out.”

“He's done this before,” Steve agrees.

“I’ll start a search for similar cases,” Chin says, already pulling out a tablet.

“Look for cases with long gaps between them,” Danny suggests. “At least a month or two.” Steve and Kono are nodding. “Something like this takes a lot of planning.”

“Got it.” Chin’s probably just humoring Danny- he usually is- hut Danny doesn't say anything about that. Better to just let Chin do his thing.

“Kono, you and I will question the neighbors,” Steve says, moving on to divvying up assignments. “Danny, wait here for Hikaru.”

“Hold up, why am I waiting here?” Danny protests.

“Because Hikaru likes you,” Steve says, the blatant lie sliding easily off his lips. Danny wants to call him out on it, but Steve is already leading Kono away, directing her toward a small clump a milling about on a nearby lawn, so Danny just bottles up the frustration for when he can rant at Steve on the way back to HQ. At least in the car Steve can't walk away.

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[daggerzine]

The Dot comes before the Dash- the Danny Ingram interview.

You would see their names on the back of records, many for Washington’s DC’s Dischord label and you might see a photo every now and again, but don’t know much about them unless you were part of that scene (ie; see my previous interview with Chris Bald from a few years ago). Danny Ingram was another one of those names. I knew he’d been in some of the early Dischord bands (Youth Brigade, etc.) and knew he’d done a lot of other stuff but wasn’t exactly sure where, when or in what context (‘cept that I knew he’s a drummer). Fast forward to nearly a decade ago when I saw his name as drummer of a new Washington, DC combo named Dot Dash. Their guitarist/vocalist Terry Banks had been in some of my favorite indie pop combos, namely Tree Fort Angst and The Saturday People, so I knew I was gonna like this one (Hunter Bennett rounds out the trio on bass)! I’ve enjoyed all of their records, but this latest one, Proto Retro (released earlier this year on The Beautiful Music label) is really a special thing of beauty. Well-written rock-pop songs that are both heartfelt and fun (and catchy as hell). Back to Ingram though, he was one of the older punks on the DC scene and thus saw and heard a lot so grab your favorite beverage, your reading glasses and bathrobe and take a stroll both down memory lane and up ‘til the current day.

A man and his drums, 

 Were you born and raised in Washington, DC?

Yes – DC born and raised. Lived in SE DC until I was 12, then moved to Palisades (NW DC) where I met my life-long friend and future bandmate, Nathan Strejcek.

 At what age did you take up the drums?

I had a fascination with drums from an early age. I’d had a crush on my baby sitter, Irene, and her brother had a drum set. To impress her, I tried playing along with his Beatles records and such, even though my feet didn’t reach the pedal. It was a lost cause. But a dear family friend and neighbor in SE, Richard Spencer, nurtured my interest. I think he bought me my first drums. He played in Otis Redding’s band and achieved quite a bit of success with his own band the Winstons (he wrote the Grammy-winning song ‘color him father).  I was about 19 when I took up the drums in earnest – with the intention of being in a band. At the risk of repeating an oft-told story…I had gone to see the Clash at the Ontario theater and was hanging out in the narrow, upstairs ‘dressing room’ with the band and several other people. I was sharing a spliff and talking with Joe, Mick and (to a lesser extent because I had trouble understanding him) Paul. Joe asked if I played in a band – I told him I didn’t – but that my best friend did. He admonished me to get off the sidelines – to ‘do something – create something’ – and when Joe Strummer tells you to do something…well…you do it. Shortly thereafter I volunteered to join the Untouchables (their drummer, Richard, left for college). A few weeks after that we played our first show. This was probably in the fall of 1980.

 How did you come into contact with the Dischord Records folks? Were you a Wilson HS student as well? Yeah. I went to Wilson (briefly) and knew all the Dischord people before there was a record label (or a Teen Idles). Nathan and I were best friends and he, along with Ian and Jeff, started the label. We all grew up together and have been friends since early days.

 Do you remember the first person you ever met in the DC punk scene? What was your first punk show?

I was there at the outset and knew most-if not all-of the people before there was a scene, per se. I guess the first people I met who weren’t in our group of friends were Xyra and Cathy – they had a punk radio show at WGTB (Georgetown University radio) called Revolt into Style. Nathan and I used to sneak out of our houses and go down for their shows after our parents went to sleep. As for the first concert? Hard to say. I saw so many bands in those early days –one of the first was probably the Ramones in the fall of ’77. I worked at the Atlantis and at the 9:30 club when it first opened up – so I saw almost every show that came through the DC area for many years. Also, I was a smidge older…so coupled with my fake ID I was able to get into places like the Bayou as well.

Youth Brigade (Danny is 2nd from left)

 From what I know you’re a bit older than some of the other DC punks, were you there early enough to go to places like Madam’s Organ and the Hard Art Gallery?  (places I only know about from pictures, usually of the Bad Brains).

Tell me about how/when The Untouchables formed? Was that your first band?

…and please tell us about the origins of Youth Brigade?

I was born in 1961 – so it makes me a about a year older than Ian and Jeff and six months older than Nathan. I never really considered myself older. Now, Boyd and the guys in Black Market Baby were fucking old! Most of em born in the 50’s! J Seriously though – we were all roughly in the same age group – though I think Xyra (who was a bit older) referred to that initial scene (affectionately – not anatomically) as teeny punks or baby punks.  My first band was the Untouchables. As noted above, Richard had split and moved off to college. I was sitting at the Roy Rogers with Eddie, Alec and (I think) Bert as they lamented the loss of their drummer and the prospect of breaking up. I jokingly volunteered to take his place. They immediately said ‘yes’ despite my warnings that I’d never really played the drums. A few weeks later we played our first show. We hung together for almost a year before splitting up. After that was Youth Brigade. Nathan had been the singer of the Teen Idles – but when the band split, it seemed only natural that Nathan and I should start a band together. We’d been best friends for years and had very similar life arcs and musical tastes. We tried out a few guitarists (including Jason of 9353) and one other bassist (Greg) before finally settling on the line-up that most people know with Tom on Guitar and my old friend and former Untouchable mate, Bert on bass.  As for Madam’s Organ or Hard Art? I played at Madam’s Organ – and I was at the infamous Bad Brains show at Hard Art. I can’t remember if I ever played there…but it’s entirely possible. You would have to consult with Bert or Alec or someone whose memory isn’t a shambles.

 Madhouse backstage

Was Madhouse next? They were a bit different right? A darker sound.

I was in a few bands before Madhouse. I played in a band with Dave Byers and Toni Young (from Red C) called Peer Pressure. Tom Berard (scenester) also sang with the band for a while. We recorded a demo up in NY with the bad brains at 171A. We played a handful of shows but, like so many other bands of that era, split up and moved on to other projects.  I also played in a band called Social Suicide – great guys and a fun band (featured Joey A who went on to Holy Rollers). Also short lived – but we did record some songs for a local compilation ‘mixed nuts don’t crack’.  OH – I also briefly tried my hand at singing in a VERY short-lived band called black watch. This featured future members of madhouse (Brad Gladstone on bass and the mega-talented Norman van der Sluys on drums). The less said about this the better. Not because of the band – but because my singing can curdle milk at twenty paces.

I was starting to get a bit antsy with the way the DC scene was evolving – so my then girlfriend (Monica Richards) and I decided to start a band that was more rooted in post punk bands like killing joke, magazine and the monochrome set. That was how madhouse started. But unsurprisingly enough, there was no scene for this band, so we still played mostly punk and hardcore shows – but the direction we tried to take didn’t really sit well with a lot of new, burgeoning scene.  It seems, at least from afar, that you were willing to go in other directions musically (goth, etc.) whereas maybe some of your DC co-horts stuck to the punk rock thing. Would this be accurate? Did you get flack for it?

Yeah – I guess it was a bit gothy. Certainly, that was Monica’s m.o. I’ve always considered myself a punk – no matter what kind of band I played in. But this was definitely the beginning of stretching musical wings. And, yeah, we caught flack for it. But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Monica caught the most grief – and that is exactly why we both were getting put off by what the scene was turning into. I’ll just leave it at that. That said – my friends, the ones I’d known from the outset, were all cool. Otherwise I wouldn’t have spent some time drumming for Iron Cross with another life-long friend, Sab.

Strange Boutique (not ready to dine and (dot) dash) 

 Was Strange Boutique next? If so how/when did that band form and what was its history?

Yes – Strange Boutique (a name I copped from the Monochrome Set song/album) was next up. It was still Monica and me – but while Madhouse tried to straddle the punk scene with whatever it was we were trying to do – Strange Boutique basically said ‘fuck it’ and dove headfirst into what was certainly a more goth-punk-pop sound. The Chameleons, Siouxsie, Cure and bands of that ilk were really influencing us a lot and the quality of the band grew exponentially with the addition of Fred Smith and Steve Willett. -- I should pause here to note that I’ve lost a few friends and bandmates along the way – like Toni Young. But two hit particularly hard: Fred Smith – who was a true original. A crazy fucker. Much loved and much missed no matter how much trouble he got me into! And John Stabb – My brother in every sense of the word. Someone I loved until the end and who was a never-ending source of insanity, humor and energy. John and Fred were both unique spirits…and it’s just not the same without them.

Swervedriver- not huffin’ and puffin’ 

radioblue in black and white 

 Pardon my ignorance (I know it was some years) but was there anything between Strange Boutique and Dot Dash?

There were a few bands after Strange Boutique. I played in radioblue who, like strange boutique, were a band on the outside of the dc hardcore scene. They were more 60s-influenced indie pop (byrds, beatles, beach boys, buzzcocks). It led to drumming in a Mark Helm (a singer/guitarist in the band) project called Super 8 and playing on his solo album (on not lame records). I also started a band called King Mixer AGES ago with Steven Engel and James Lee (the bassist and singer/guitarist from radioblue). We still get together to this day, but it’s more like the monthly poker game: play some music, have dinner, hang out and catch up with old friends. We did put out a self-released CD years ago, but Dot Dash came along, and that has monopolized my time for the last seven years. I also played in Swervedriver for about a year, relocating to London for about ten months. It was an amazing experience. Adam Franklin (the singer / song writer) is the greatest musician I’ve ever played with. And as far as I am concerned Adam is in the pantheon of great song-writers of the last 40 years. Glad to still call him and my old swervie bandmates friends. A lifetime of memories crammed into a short period of time! When I moved back to DC from London at the end of 1992 I played in two more bands. The first was the criminally obscure UltraCherry Violet. They were definitely in the mold of swervedriver and some other favorites from that era. The band was Dugan Broadhurst and Dan Marx (who later played in king mixer). We played a handful of shows before I imploded. We got together a year after we split to record some songs for posterity – and those were ultimately released on Bedazzled records (a label I started while in strange boutique – but by now taken over by Steve Willett). There are a few songs on that CD that are among the things I’m most proud of as a musician.  I also played with my old running mates and brothers-in-arms John Stabb and Steve Hansgen (and Rob Frankel) in a band called Emma Peel. THAT was fun! We really clicked together musically – and we recorded a single on our good friend John Lisa’s label Tragic Life. The Avenging Punk Rock Godfathers! This web of connections is what led Steve to joining Dot Dash further down the road.  The last thing I did before Dot Dash was drumming in the legendary local mod band Modest Proposal, with old friends Neal Augenstein and Bill Crandall (who shortly thereafter was part of the original Dot Dash line-up). Steve Hansgen had played with Neal and Bill during an early incarnation – and he and I comprised the rhythm section for and MP reunion show.

Emma Peel (Danny is far right and that is the late, great John Stabb, 2nd from left) 

Do tell us about your current band Dot Dash? I think the records have been terrific. How did you meet Terry and Hunter?

Thanks for the kind words about the DD records. Right now, the band is a three-piece: me on drums, Terry Banks on vocals and guitar and Hunter Bennett on bass. Terry has been in almost as many bands as me – playing in a lot of indie-pop bands like Saturday People, Glo-Worm and Tree Fort Angst. Hunter was a veteran of the Stabb band among others.  I didn’t really know either of them before we started the band…but I knew of them from their previous band Julie Ocean (the band also had Jim Spellman of Velocity Girl on guitar/vocals and Alex Daniels from Swiz on drums). Julie Ocean released a great record on Transit of Venus – and they should have been huge. JO had planned to go on tour with a band called Magnetic Morning (that was my old friend Adam Franklin and Interpol drummer Sam Fogarino’s side-project), but drummer-Alex, bailed on the tour. So, that night at the Rock n Roll Hotel, Terry asked if I wanted to play drums in a new project with him and Hunter. I said yes – after consulting with my wife, Sally – but it actually took another six months or so to get rolling (I had already promised to do the Modest Proposal reunion). As it turned out, Jim was planning on leaving JO as well (taking a job in Colorado) – but when he came back he played briefly in Dot Dash (between Bill and Steve).  Dot Dash has been the most prolific band I’ve ever played with and the longest running active band. We’ve put out six CD’s on the Canadian label, The Beautiful Music. It’s run by an amazing guy – Wally Salem. I’m not sure that we would still be going without his love and support! Truthfully – I also do it for my kids (Noah 12 and Sam 16). I think it’s good to show them that you can do fun and creative things at any age. Sam has really taken it to heart. He’s been playing guitar since he was 10 and is already a better musician than I ever will be! He’s already formed and broken up his first band – and he filled in for Hunter (on bass) at one of our shows…picking up the songs with relative ease and aplomb. 

Almost forgot the Social Suicide pic (Danny’s the UK Subs fan)

What’s next for Dot Dash? Another record in the works? Maybe a tour?  I don’t know about touring. I think we would all love to do it – but because we all have demanding jobs, families and such – it makes it difficult to pick up and run off. That said, if the right opportunity presented itself (like going on a tour with a band we love) I think we would certainly consider it. We’ve been REALLY fortunate to play with some bands that have long been heroes/favorites: the Chameleons, Ash, Hugh Cornwell (of the Stranglers), the Monochrome Set, Stiff Little Fingers, the Dickies, DOA and so on – I think if any of them said ‘let’s do it’ we’d be packing our bags! As for another record? Well – we just released our sixth. And it is definitely the record I’m most proud of. Geoff Sanoff did an amazing job producing it – he also produces the Julie Ocean album – and it’s probably the best batch of songs Terry has written to-date.  We are always cranking out new songs – and already have a few in hand – but I think we want to enjoy the last release, Proto Retro, for a bit. 

Dot Dash with Sam on bass. 

What’s happening in Washington, DC these days musically? Any new bands we need to hear about? The great thing about DC is that it is like the Hydra of Lerna – every time a band breaks up, two new ones start up again! The scene has been regenerating for ages. And there are a lot of great bands still plugging away – The Messthetics with my old friend and Brendan Canty, Miss Lonelyhearts, Foxhall Stacks (with Jim Spellman), Nathan’s band the Delarcos, any band with Chris Moore (an epic drummer) such as the Rememberables or Coke Bust, Anna Connolly’s new project or the new project with Ian, Joe Lally and Amy Farina. Old or young – the scene here is still vibrant and vital.

 Any final thought? Closing comments? Anything you wanted to mention that I didn’t ask?

Obviously, most people know DC for the great music (bad brains, minor threat, fugazi, 9353, government issue, fire party, faith, rites of spring, tommy keene) – but to me, the best thing about it has been the friendships…which for me have been practically life-sustaining. You can’t have a great scene without great people – and to me the people I’ve known along the way simply are the best.

 BONUS QUESTION:  What are your top 10 desert island discs (I know some people don’t like when I ask this questions so I decided to put it as a bonus) Wow. Tough one. My top ten has about ten thousand records in it. So, it really is dependent on my mood at the time. I’ll try to throw it together…but if you ask on another day it might be a different batch. Because I’m old – I’m going to take the liberty of picking a baker’s dozen.  Adam and the Ants – Dirk Wears White Sox (original on Do It records) Art Ensemble of Chicago – Les Stances a Sophie J.S. Bach – Air on the G String Buzzcocks – Spiral Scratch ep (rip Pete Shelley) Chameleons – Script of the Bridge (or Strange Times) Miles Davis – ‘Round About Midnight Al Green – Greatest Hits Kinks – Something Else The La’s – The La’s  Punishment of Luxury – Laughing Academy Red Cross – Posh Boy ep Swervedriver – 99th Dream Zombies – Odyssey and Oracle

 www.dotdashdc.bandcamp.com

www.thebeautifulmusic.com 

(**all photos posted with permission from the Danny Ingram collection- if you took one of these please do let us know so we can credit. Thank you). 

Thank you very much Danny Ingram (from publisher/editor Tim)!

Dot Dash tearin’ down the house. 

[thoughtlesstales]

What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger | Chapter One

Title: What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger | Chapter One Word Count: 4367 Rating: Mature Type: Multichapter

Fandom:  Hawaii Five-0 Ship: Danny Williams x Original Character

Summary:  Danny meets a woman that will change his life, in more ways than one.

She didn’t know if she would have returned home if she wasn’t being forced too. Halia stared off into the distance, watching the Californian sun set on the horizon from her Mary’s porch. She had been sat there for hours now, ever since she had been sent home and told not to come back. Her Aunt wasn’t even back yet, though Halia knew she would never have any objection to her returning home, she had been pushing Halia to do so ever since she graduated from the Academy. Still every stubborn bone in her body had kept her in Virginia and then California when she moved to the state.

“No way you’re home this early voluntarily.” Hal heard Mary come through the door before she spoke, she listened to her move through the house and setting her things down and then coming out onto the porch when she realized someone else was there.

Hal took one looked to the woman and the tears flooded her vision, making the world blurry. They spilled down her cheeks and Mary was there in an instant pulling Hal to her side and rocking her back and forth; gently asking her what was wrong. “Ben.” She hiccuped between breathless sobs. “He’s dead.” She added after catching her breath, a fresh flood of tears hitting and causing her to hold onto the woman like she was last living person in her life. So many had died around Hal, she was now starting to believe she really was cursed, everyone she loved, everyone she cared for eventually left her.

Mary sat with her for hours, or at least that was what it felt like, holding onto the woman and not letting her go until Hal pulled away herself. Her head hurt and her eyes stung from how much she had cried. She sat back in the bench, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared blankly again. “He - he was in my arms.” Hal said after a moment of silence. “We were on a Op and they got behind us without us knowing and he - he moved behind me when he saw them, stepping between me...” Hal’s voice cracked again and she fought back the tears that were working to spring free once more. Her hands gripped her legs tightly, nails biting into her skin as she saw it in her mind’s eye. “He stepped between me and the bullet.” She gasped shaking her head, forcefully pushing up from the bench and slamming her fists against wooden railings that wrapped around the house. “I should be the one that’s dead!” Hal cried looking angrily back at Mary. The other just sat there, clearly unable to find the words to say anything.

“He had a family; a wife, a baby girl on the way!” Halia hissed dragging her hands roughly across her scalp.

-

It felt like nothing had changed, Halia pulled up outside the house she had spent much of her childhood at. She spent many days, weeks and years in this house before she had legally become a McGarrett on paper. She had fond memories of John McGarrett, her grandparents had been friends of the family and it was one of the main reasons Steve had adopted her when she was only fourteen years old, that and her dad.

Hal spent a few moments in the cab before stepping out, duffel bag in hand as she passed money back through the window to the driver, telling him he could keep the change. Hal walked up the drive and to the house, spotting the toys littered across the lawn and she could hear the laughter of a child inside. She steeled herself at the door, it had been ten years since she had been Hawaii, ten years since she had vanished leaving the man that had adopted her four years previous. She raised her hand and rapped it against the door, waiting for someone inside to answer.

Hal expected Steve to answer, but it wasn’t. It was a native woman, dark hair and bright eyes and a smile on her face as she greeted Hal. Hal knew Steve had married, they had spoken at various points over the years and he told her that he had found someone, Halia hadn’t attended the wedding, she hadn’t come to the islands when their son was born. However she could guess now, she would guess that this was Kono, Steve’s wife and mother of his child.

“Is Steve here? Steve McGarrett?” Hal asked hesitantly. It had been so long, so much time had passed, it felt foreign on her tongue. The woman nodded, a confused look on her face as she really took Hal in. Honestly, Hal wasn’t at her best. She was too pale even for her fair complexion, she had no energy which was likely down to her not eating and she was finally realizing why she was here. The moment Steve came into view after being called by the woman, Hal felt her resolve crumble.

“Steve.” She rushed to him, at twenty eight years old Hal took comfort in the arms of the man who had picked up the reigns of being her father. He held her tight in an embrace pressing his face into the crown of her head. Hal screwed her fingers into his shirt, holding on for dear life as sobbed against his chest. The last few hours of holding it together finally coming apart at the seams.

Steve just held onto her, he didn’t once let go not until she pulled back from him. He never said anything, said nothing about her turning up after ten years, about her state and why suddenly, she sobbing against him like she had once done many moons ago. Finally Halia pulled back, hands swiping at her face but it didn’t matter it was red and blotchy and sung like a bitch. Steve looked at at her, his large hands brushing back her damp curls of dark hair. “I’m so sorry Hal baby.” Steve’s voice was quiet and suddenly Halia released he knew. He knew she was coming, he knew why she was here and why she needed to get away. Hal also realized Hawaii, here in this house, in Steve’s arms was the only place she felt truly safe.

That evening after calming down once more, Hal cleaned herself up and was then properly introduced to Kono and Luka. Kono was kind and funny, she had a sharp wit that had Hal grinning from ear to ear. Luka was just gorgeous as well, he seemed to have the perfect blend of Steve and Kono and the cutest of dimples when he looked up grinning at Hal. He fell asleep in Hal’s arms as darkness started to set in, Kono went to take him and Hal asked to hold him just a little while longer. There was so much innocence in the child, so much of what she could never have again and Halia just wanted to hold that, know that it was still there in the world.

She sat down on the beach, Luka nestled in her arms wrapped warmly in a blanket as there was a slight chill in the air that evening. Steve walked down and joined her, settling into the sand beside her. His shoulder pressed against hers and he looked out over the ocean, not saying a word, waiting for Halia knowing she would break eventually.

“You have a beautiful family.” Hal breathed after a few moments of silence, it was true. Steve now had a beautiful wife and handsome son and no doubt there would be more.

“Your family.” Steve breathed. “I know I may not be your biological father, but I love you more than anything, in my eyes you are my daughter, that’s never going to change.” Steve explained firmly, that was the one thing Steve had been consistent on over the years, he had always loved her. He had always been her rock, been there for her when it felt like no one else was.

“I know, I’ve been blessed to have two fathers.” Halia breathed turning her head to face Steve. Hal could count on one hand how many times she had referred to Steve aloud as her father, she felt ashamed because Steve didn’t have to step up and adopt her, and become the father in her life. He had although, and the smile that curled his lips, and spread across his face made Halia want to call it him more. “And this little guy is really lucky to have you and Kono, she’s amazing.” Hal smiled pulling the blanket a little tighter around the boy, she was growing more and more attached to him.

“Yeah, she’s pretty awesome.” Steve agreed, a fond smile curling his lips as he thought of his wife. However, he turned back to Hal, his smile faltered as he caught the distant look in her eyes. “What happen Hal? Mary wouldn’t tell me, just said you needed family right now?” Steve explained reaching out, his hand settling at the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her dark locks.

Halia shook her head, she didn’t want to talk about it again. Yesterday had been bad enough, it had been his funeral, she had stood with Emily, his wife. She had held her hand and been the rock the woman needed. Hal had been with him since her second year with the FBI, 8 years later they were family. She couldn’t talk about it again, she needed, wanted to bottle it up and put it to the back of her mind where she wouldn’t have to deal with it. The pain was just too much.

“When you wanna talk I’m here okay?” Steve reassured leaning in a pressing a solid kiss to the side of her temple, his other hand resting upon his son’s head. Halia nodded resting against Steve’s shoulder, before motioning he should take his son. Steve lifted Luka from her arms and held him close while he offered one hand to Halia pulling her up from the sand. He draped it across her shoulders and together they walked back up to the house where Kono sat on the lanai with a hot drink in her hands.

-

“Who are these people?” Hal asked carry out a stack of meat out from the house to the beach. Steve had said there were people to meet, people who were just as much Ohana as Kono and Luka.

“Danny, Chin, Jerry, Lou.” Steve added once more, repeating himself. “I’ve known Danny and Chin as long as I’ve known Kono, Jerry and Lou came later, but they’re Ohana regardless.” Steve explained taking the meat from Halia and placing it in the cooler for later. Hal just nodded, she didn’t know if she was in the mood to meet people, to socialize right now and pretended things could be wiped away with a few beers. Still, she would smile and actually maybe getting plastered would blur the edges for at least a while.

Not long after they started to turn up Danny was first. He was loud and shorter than her father, but a few inches taller than her. He seemed so formal in the jeans and t-shirt, compared to everyone else who was wearing board shorts and stupid hawaiian shirts as some sort of joke. Danny just seemed to poke fun at her father, grab himself a beer and continue. Halia appeared from the kitchen and Danny had looked at her with confusion, even more so when Steve told him that this was his eldest child. Halia’s heart swelling with something she couldn’t figure out.

“What? You’ve already reproduced? I’ve been living a world with McGarrett spawn before having the chance to prepare?” Danny kept talking prattling on to the point even Halia was laughing for the first time in a while.

“I’m Halia, but Hal is fine, Steve said your Hawaiian incompetent.” Halia smirked holding out her hand, enjoying the way he spluttered on his beer at her comment. Which only earned her a lecture, she looked to Steve for help, who only shrugged his shoulders and when back to laughing at them with Kono. “It’s great to finally meet you Danno.” After hearing the man rant for five minutes straight without seemingly taking a breath, Halia was hesitant about following Steve’s advice and calling Danny, ‘Danno’; which only seemed to backfire on the other man, because Danny instantly knew that it was Steve who had told her and went after the man. Hal stood there watching them and laughing, the ache in her chest easing a little.

-

Halia sat in the sand near the ocean, her feet dug into the warm sand. A number of empty beers bottles sat beside her, each time she finish, she pushed them upside down into the sand. Halia was in the middle of her six? Maybe seventh beer, when Danny approached and crouched in the sand beside her. She looked at him under the moonlight and his hair seemed to shine brighter than it had in the sun. She didn’t speak, she just looked back to the ocean.

“That’s a look I know.” Danny said breaking the silence around them. He settled himself down beside her in the sand with a grumble, but fell silent once more.

“What do you know about it?” Halia asked, her tone was bitter, skeptical that he could ever understand what she was feeling right now, what she was going through. The pain and the turmoil of losing someone who she would have literally given her life for, but instead he had given his for her.

“You’ll be surprised, I had the same haunted look in my eyes when I lost my partner.” Danny pressed on. Halia looked at him sharply, how did he know? Who told him? Steve had said Mary hadn’t told him anything.

“How?” Hal asked her jaw tight and her gaze narrowed on the blonde.

“I rarely see Steve shy away from something, but when he found out you were coming home and reason for it, I saw him something I hadn’t seen before.” Danny paused for a moment, taking a long drink from the longboard in hand. “Fear. I don’t think he knew what he was going to say to you, he couldn’t even construct the sentences when he told me.” Hal released a long sigh, ducking her head before looking back up the beach to Steve and the others, they were sat around the fire pit laughing and drinking.

“He said he didn’t know, he was waiting for me to tell him.” Halia answered quietly chewing the inside of her lip as she looked back to the ocean, wanting, wishing for it to swallow her whole.

“Biding his time no doubt, you bring out a side of him I've never seen and I didn’t know even know you were his daughter.” Danny explained with a shake of his head. “Sister maybe or something, he doesn’t really share many details, only when I pushed.” That really didn’t surprise her, her adoption, just Hal herself brought back as many bad memories for Steve as it did for her. It was a painful time for both their lives and Halia hadn’t helped anyone when she left Hawaii without a word. She had ran because that was all she could manage, she didn’t want to see the pain and anger anymore. She wanted to be free of it.

“I’m not biologically his daughter, otherwise he would have been nine when I was born.” Halia snorted. This was going somewhere she did not want to even touch, especially not after she had been drinking, it wouldn’t end pretty.

“Seriously? So you’re what twenty eight or something?” Danny asked looking up at Halia as she pushed to her feet. “What’s the story there?”

“Yeah, twenty nine soon.” She nodded snatching up her beer and with a salute to Danno she wandered back up the beach back to ... to her family. She didn’t tell him the story, maybe one day ... if she stuck around.

Halia spent months on the island, spending more and more time with Steve and his extended family. She found herself joining them, wanting to join them and be apart of whatever it was they had. She would sit and talk for hours, with Danny especially. She liked talking about the city with him, she had spent a lot of time in the New Jersey office, it was actually where she had met Ben before they both transferred down to California.

She had grown more comfortable with them all, and finally she had been able to let Steve in, she even let Danny in and slowly she got over the pain of losing her partner; she couldn’t return though. Halia had turned down going back to the FBI, for now at least. She wanted peace for a little while longer and while she spoken about it, returning back to the one place she associated most with her dead partner wouldn’t have been good for her. She wasn’t that stupid not to see it.

She had been on the island six months when Danny asked if she had wanted to grab drinks, just them, no one else. No Steve. She had been confused at first, sure they hung out, but it was always because he was either at the McGarrett house or she had been invited out with the rest of the team. It was never just them. She didn’t say no though, she liked Danny and the more she thought about it the more the idea seemed right to her.

***

Halia met Danny one Friday evening, they had agreed on a small bar out the way of tourists. Too dirty and dingy for their tastes, but perfect for the locals who knew what a gem it was. Hal had kept it simple with shorts and t-shirt, this wasn’t a date, that's what she kept telling herself. Because, because she couldn’t be on a date with her dad’s partner; but it didn’t mean she didn’t get that odd sensation in the pit of her stomach when she saw Danny already sat at the bar, two beers in front of him.

He rose from his stool when he saw her, a smile softening his features, and Hal couldn’t help but smile back just as widely. She returned the hug he gave when she reached him, his hand settling at her low back when they pulled back and he greeted her. That funny feeling grew. Hal settled on the stool beside him, took a drink from her own beer and muttering a thanks. She wanted to ask him why, why he had asked her out tonight, just her and none of the team; but she thought she already knew the answer, maybe she was just scared to hear it aloud.

“Did you want to sit outside?” Danny looked to her a look on his face that had Hal agreeing before taking a breath. Did she like him? Could she see herself being in a relationship with Danny? But what would that do to both their relationships with Steve? For all intensive purposes and on paper he was her father, this was his partner, could she damage that by taking this any further? Danny took a couple more beers from the bartender and motioning for Hal to go first as he followed her outside, they settled at a small candle lit table out the back of the bar on the beach. Hal automatically kicked her sandles off and tucked her toes into the sands, she loved the feeling.

“You always do that.” Danny laughed watching her. Hal grinned, feeling the heat creep across her cheeks. What was he doing to her?

“I guess I haven’t really been around the stuff for a long time now, kinda making the most of it.” She shrugged draining her beer. “I always missed the beach, obviously there is sand in California, but I used to work so much I didn’t really have the time to sit and look across the ocean.”

“Why did you stay away so long, if you missed it especially?” Danny asked a genuine look in his eyes as he asked the question. Halia thought for a few moments about whether she was going to answer the question, answering it would lead to questions about her past she wasn’t sure she was ready to answer and think about; but this was Danny. The same Danny that had helped her start to move on from Ben’s death; the same Danny she messaged in the middle of the night instead of waking either of the two people in the bedroom next to hers back home. Maybe she had already started to cross that line?

“I don’t know what Steve has told you about me, but I left, I ran, from Hawaii because the memories hurt too much.” That now seemed all too familiar she knew she was running from the FBI because the memories of Ben hurt too much to be back there. “After losing my Dad, everything reminded me off him and as I got older it just got too much - there are only so many pity looks you can handle before it starts to drive you to the point of breaking.” Hal admitted with a sad look in her eyes, she took another long drink, starting the fresh beer Danny had set in front of her. “I guess I’m just good at running.”

“There’s nothing wrong with leaving the place or person that’s causing you pain, sometimes you just have too.” Danny answered, his words laced with something that made Hal think he knew what he speaking about. “And Steve hasn’t really said anything, gets that look on his face when I do ask and normally just walks off.” Danny shrugged following Hal and taking a drink from his beer.

“I might have lost my father, but Steve, he lost a best friend, his mentor.” Hal explained softly, understanding Steve’s reaction to someone prying into the painful time in their lives. “We’ve both lost a lot over the years.” She added sadly. John had been killed nearly six years ago now and Hal still tore herself up for not coming back for his funeral, but she had done whatever she could to help Steve. Including going as far as sending information anonymously to Steve, unable to face him herself.

“That’s how I met him yanno? John’s death, HPD put me on the case and I nearly shot him because he was being a stubborn ass fool.” Danny grinned shaking his head. “He got me shot as well, which I’d like to point out is not fun, nor right because I wasn’t even his partner then - he just kept appearing in places he shouldn’t.” Danny mused muttering to himself. Hal couldn’t help but laugh, that sounded exactly like Steve. Sounded like her actually, Hal was more reckless than she’d like to admit and her superiors would like to know.

“What are we doing Danny?”

“Having a drink.” He smirked, that same smirk that had made Hal laugh when she had seen him for the first time ranting at - her dad.

“You know what I mean, what if Steve finds out? I can’t see him being thrilled with either of us, I can’t be the cause of this causing friction between you both, I’d never forgive myself if something happened because you guys were dealing with this instead of the job.”

“Well he better not find out then.” Danny answered simply, was it that simple though? Or was she just overthinking it? She wanted to see if there was something with this man, she really did, but, but - so many buts and questions and worries. “Relax okay? I wouldn’t have asked you out if I didn’t think you were worth it.” Hal just stared at him unable to find the words to answer that. Worth it? Was she?

They spent hours drinking and chatting, finally vacating from their table when the bar closed at three in the morning. Hal was giddy and flushed laughing more than she had in since, well forever. Danny was smart and witty, his smart remarks like nothing she had come across in a person and she had worked with enough people to think she had seen them all. As they were walking up the street in silence, Hal’s arm linked through Danny’s, she felt at ease. They were in search of a cab, Danny having too much to drink to make it safe for him to drive them home. As they walked Halia felt the first hit of rain as it landed on her arm and by the time she looked to the heavens it was was pouring down upon them.

Both of them laughed, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Hal looked at Danny, there was barely a difference in height between them, maybe an inch or two? Yet, she still felt like she was tipping her back to look at him, rain covering her face and washing away the last of the haze she had felt from the alcohol they had consumed. It was a clique, without a doubt and Hal felt cheesy as hell as Danny dipped his head to press their mouths together. He was hesitant at first, giving her the time to pull back and change her mind if she so wished; but she didn’t. Hal deepened the kiss, her hands coming up to cradle Danny’s face, his hands settling at her waist.

They fitted together like two halves, and Hal unconsciously added Danny to the list of people she felt safe with. They were so wrapped up in each other, the kiss soft and easy, they never heard the van pull up beside them. Two well trained people in being aware of their surroundings they didn’t pay attention to the boots hitting the rain covered sidewalk. They only knew they were there when they both felt the electric running through their bodies from the taser which hit them.

[hiswhiteknight]

Double Trouble - Part 2

Summary: Reader is close to Danny, nearly a sister, and she drops by on ‘vacation’. After meeting Reader, Steve begins to admire her playful tendencies with Danny.

Pairing: Steve McGarrett x Reader

Warning: Makes jokes dealing with reader and sex, mild threats, McDanno banter, low amount of curse words

Words: 1,500

*I don’t own Hawaii Five-O characters, obviously. And credit to the people who created the gifs - aka not me. Let me know if you think I should make this into a series

Part One

It had been completely silent since you’ve gotten in the car. Danny was simply radiating anger and frustration. At this moment, you thought it best to give him at least a few minutes, to cool off. It wasn’t hard considering the island was just filled with beauty, besides the gorgeous man driving one of your best friend’s car, “Danno,” you said in your sweet voice.

You knew your voice had a way of calming Danny down, “Yes, Y/N?”

His voice immediately softened, looking back at you with this face of care, “If this is your car, why is Steve driving it?” 

Clearly you couldn’t wait very long to tease him more. The smile dropped from his face and turned into a frown as soon as Steve snorted, “Because this animal has control issues,” he slapped Steve’s arm.

“Control issues,” Steve questioned, “Why do you have to make up such lies in front of a lady?”

“What,” Danny turned to Steve, his face getting red, and voice rising, “First, she is no lady, she could out man any male. And second, lies – if I’m not lying, then why do you always have to drive my car? How do you explain that?”

Steve’s hands left the steering wheel, “Is it wrong for me to spoil a friend, I’m chauffeuring you around. I want you to feel special.”

“Well, that’s just hogwash,” Danny said to Steve, “Keep your hands on the wheel, you idiot.”

You slapped Danny’s arm, “Hey, you apologize to your partner.  Say two nice things!”

Shaking his head, tapping his hand on the dash, “Not that, Y/N, I’m not doing that, I’m not a child.”

“Daniel Williams,” you say with a stern, slow voice, “Say two nice things. Now.”

He looked back at you, while Steve watched in amazement at this phenomenon. Rolling his eyes, “Fine,” he did this long stare at Steve. He took a deep breathe and waited a moment to think of something nice. You kicked his chair, “Steve, you’re very kind for not trying to get me killed daily, though sometimes you don’t try hard enough. And you aren’t terrible to my kids.”

“Wow, Danny, that’s awfully nice of you,” Steve looked at him, “Had to dig real deep for those,” he mocked him. He looked back at you, “Two nice things, huh?”

You shrug, “Yeah, words are can be harmful, Danno knows that.”

He nodded his head, laughing a little. Danny just shook his head, trying to calm himself down again.

Pulling up to Steve’s, you bounded out before Danny could move out of the way, his chest smashing to the dash as the seat moved up, “No, Y/N, please you first.”

You spun, kissing him on the cheek, “Love you Danno,” you squeeze him, as he tries to get out of the vehicle, “Thanks for letting me stay with you.”

Steve steps out and watches over Danny’s car. He was in total amazement of your effect on Danny Williams. As soon as you hugged him, Danny’s disposition changed completely. The banter, the teasing, it didn’t matter. Danny Williams turned into complete mush, “Doll, you know I love having you,” he pulled you back to look at you, “Now, come on, this guy over here promised us some barbecue and beer.”

You got to meet everyone associated with the task force you’ve heard so much about. And everyone was so welcoming, it was like nothing you ever felt – instant family. The William’s knew your mother, which is why Matthew and you were close, you played together as children. Over time, they grew to be your only family. Here it was quick, you patted Kono on the arm, “I’m going to grab another beer,” she nodded at you.

You made your way closer to the house, reaching for the cooler. Steve beat you to it, “For you,” he passed it to you.

“Thanks commander,” you grabbed the beer.

“Steve, please,” he waved you off, walking around the cooler to lean against a tree. He was staring down at you smirking, “How’d you convince Danny it was safe to leave you here? He left muttering threats to me.”

You laugh, “It was a combination of the kids pleading to see me and the protection of Eric,” you wave to his nephew in the distance, who was staring at you like you were food, “Lucky for Eric, Danno doesn’t know Eric has had the biggest crush on me for years.”

“I’m not surprised, a beautiful, funny, intelligent woman like yourself,” he watched your reaction as he said this, “Poor boy didn’t stand a chance against your charm.” Blush creeps all over your face and you grow quiet, laughing nervously and looking towards the group of people, “Look at this,” he stood straight to look at you, “This whole flirty thing, it’s a rouse just to get under Danno’s skin,” he chuckled, “I’m shocked.”

“What, I’m a shy kid from Jersey,” looking down at the sand, “Said no one ever,” you laugh again. “If I’m being honest, I don’t really have experience with flirting for my own benefit. Danny let me have one boyfriend for about three weeks. Other than that, flirting is just another way to bother my protective big brother.”

Laughing at the statement, Steve nods, “Your relationship with Danny is not like one I’ve ever seen. Not even with his own sisters or Gracie does he turn into this mushy guy. You have that man wrapped around your finger.”

 You shrug, sipping your beer, “I don’t really have family, so he takes pity on me.”

“I think it’s more than that,” he comments.

“Puh-lease, Danno Williams does not have a crush on me. That’d be weird,” you shake your head, “Hell is more likely to freeze over with flying pigs flapping around.” You sigh, scratching the back of your neck, “After my mom disappeared, I didn’t have anyone, but the Williams’. Matty saw me as a convenience, someone no matter what he said or did would be there for him, again and again. My kindness and naivety were often taken advantage of with Danny’s little brother. And now, I have no one but him, he sees that.”

“Is that, that psychology degree of yours,” he grinned down at you. He admired how you could talk about your past with such lightheartedness and with barely knowing him. It meant you felt at home.

“Yes, sir,” you smile. Something grabs your attention from the door, you know Danny is here with the kids closing in on you. You wink at McGarrett, “No, it’s amazing. It’s called the pray mantis because the girl has to bend her leg,” Steve’s eyebrows shot up, instantly intrigued and amused.

]“Hey-o,” Danny yelled, covering his daughter’s ears, “Y/N, the mouth around the children.”

He tried to drag Gracie away, “Danno, Auntie Y/N,” she whined trying to get back to you.

“No, Auntie Y/N needs a timeout,” Danny looked back at you.

Steve raised his hand, “You know partner, I’m happy to-,” he started to smile with a shit eating grin.

“Don’t,” Danny yelled back, “Steve,” he growled, his voice lowering, “Don’t finish that sentence, if you care about your life.”

You laugh with Steve at the very red Danny, “That’s alright Danno, I have a long time to catch up with Auntie Y/N.”

“Excuse me,” he looked down at his daughter, “What do you mean?”

“She just got a job at the University of Hawaii,” both Danny and Steve shot you an expression.

Chugging your beer, “Gosh, the sun is setting. Gracie, let’s get Charlie and watch it, huh,” you grip her shoulder, steering her in the direction of the water, “Girl you outed me to your dad,” Gracie whispered a sorry before you both quickly ran away.

Danny just watched in amazement, “I’m not sure what to feel, happy or ambushed?”

“I know what I feel,” Steve looked at his partner, he was going to love using this to tease his partner more, “I think I’m in-.”

Pointing up at his partner, “Don’t say another word, you, overgrown cartoon character.”

Eric strolled up, putting his arm around Danny, “What a beauty,” he said looking at you. Danny tossed his arm down, “McGarrett, you are one lucky son of a gun. That sexual tension between you and Y/N, I mean,” he whistled, “If I was you,” he tried to continue, “I’d-.”

Danny growled loudly, tossing his hands in the air, “She’ll be the death of me,” he stomped inside.

You looked back, smiling at Steve. He realized he had to go cool off his partner, reason with him about his ‘little sister’ playing games on him, and why Danny should be happy to have her on the island. He stopped after taking a step in the direction of Danny, “She paid you to say that,” he asked Eric, “Didn’t she?”

“Twenty bucks,” he smiled at Steve, “For her though, I would have done it for free,” he smiled, glancing at his pacing uncle.

               Again, Steve looked back at you playing with Danny’s kids and Jerry joining the gang in the sand. He had a feeling you would be a good thing for this island.

[berlinner]

miss pamela running it on like it is

‘i don’t know, Richid. it’s hard to explain, but now that he’s a quadriplegic he’s brought us all together. we were all real confused about who we were, our identities? you know J was our leader in a way and now he’s all caught up in being gay. gay in Santa Fe, and he’s living with Tommy who’s only eighteen but they’ve been together for years now because J does everything for him. he doesn’t have to lift a finger. but it’s strange, Richid, now that Steve broke his neck and is a quadra…have you ever seen what they do to people who break their necks, Richid? i’ve never been around someone who’s that sick. it makes you go through your whole life. you wonder what matters anymore. you know what I mean? they screw this metal strip that looks like a halo on his head and they have him with weights pulling on his body. one’s twenty-four pounds and the other is thirty-six. and then they have him on a waterbed, like, and they have to turn him over every two hours. on his back and then on his face, Richid. i’ve never seen anything like it. he hasn’t really slept for a month because they keep turning him over. he doesn’t even seem to realize what happened to him. he’s been on morphine. he’s so sick but he’s pulled us all together. everyone from Reddington. does that sound right? people we haven’t seen for months are sending flowers from Pennsylvania and New Jersey. and he asks for Michael Weaver. they were good friends. didn’t separate over nothing heavy. just straight with each other. Steve told Michael everything real blunt. his doctors are real happy because we all go to see him a lot and we know what to do about not eating milk or too much carbohydrates. so i’m getting involved with cripples. can you believe it? i stare at wheelchairs and i can tell right away if it’s a good one or not. and i’m working in volunteer therapy. i’m going to get my hair cut, Richid. i figure now’s the time because of the storm. i got to change my hair. i’m gonna get it cut like Peter Frampton. i was down in Beacon Hill during the storm. i was dressed in rags. i looked like shit. everybody else down there dressed to kill in their pleated pants and i was a mess. i feel like the Queen of the Subways now, Richid. i should enter Miss Subways in New York because all i do is ride them back and forth. i got to move to the North End so I can walk around a little. i’m cleaning houses in Revere, a couple of them, and I’m always on the subway and I was in a movie, Richid, a TV movie that was on last week with Joanne Woodward. i was hanging out with her and she’s real nice and Paul Newman’s short but he’s got those beautiful eyes and all we did was walk and walk up and down the street and then run in all movies they hire people for ten dollars an hour just to walk. i’m going to be in another one. i forget the name of it. i would a got involved with Danny who’s been teaching me a lot about how to massage people with injuries and we’re real close but i won’t do it because what’s the point of getting involved with someone when you might run off to California or something? it don’t make sense. i’ll call you, Richid. give me your number. people still remember that song, my song, but call me Richid because you know i lose things and forget. the snow has been something here in Charlestown we had no oil or heat for days but then the oilman came and everyone a little oil he was real nice, Richid. Joey is fourteen now and sometimes, you know, once a week i feel like i never want to talk to him again because he gets real nasty. he’s real skinny and he isn’t interested in girls yet and he’s lifting weights and he got a scholarship to all the Catholic High Schools that was ten kids out of seven hundred and he didn’t tell anybody that’s the way he is, Richid, he never tells us anything, but he’s doing real good and i think he can’t decide whether to go into professional sports or to become a heart surgeon. yeah. i should go now too, Richid. yeah. i love you, Richid. Bye.’

This is an excerpt from my book, The Paragraphs — Cutlass Press

About The Paragraphs and how to order

Link to buy

Or here

[roadswim-collective]

Three Times He Lied To Me  Lie 1.

I was twenty three when I met him. I was back at home, living with my mother, after three years in halls of residence. Here's a list of the places you'd be most likely to see me during the year I was twenty three:

on a train

in a library

at a railway station

in a corridor

at my tutor's office

in my bedroom.

I had literally no social life, unless you count going to the shop for tobacco. My best friend was my I, Claudius box set. On Friday nights when my mother was out with the girls from darts, I'd drink Prosecco in the bath. Sometimes I'd do that on Saturday nights too.

I did go other places sometimes. If the weather was nice you might see me in a castle. Caerphilly was my favourite. Or I might be at a Roman site like Caerleon. And now and again you might see me out of breath at the top of a hill somewhere looking at the remains of an Iron Age fort. I was always alone on these excursions. I'd end the day pretty much as I'd started it, lying in my bed, in my old bedroom, probably watching Gladiator.

I was halfway through a master's in history with archaeology, a two-year course, and I was completely broke. Amazingly I'd got a First in my degree, and my tutor recommended me for post-grad. It was all a bit overwhelming. I was the first in my family to go to uni, you see. Well, my father was accepted at some art college back in the day but he didn't finish the course, he dropped out. Other than that, though, I was the first to go on to higher education. It was quite a big deal at the time. Nerve-wracking. I more or less expected to crash and burn.

Everyone else seemed so confident, so talky, and loud. So English, I was about to say. But that's not fair. I just hadn't met many people like that back then, middle class people. A lot of them hardly bothered going to lectures and they were always incredibly insulting about the tutors. They were always on the piss too. Now me, for the first two years I just kept my head down and my mouth shut. I worked as hard as I possibly could, hoping to keep up. I read literally everything. When a lecturer praised my work, I'd carry that around with me for days like a little glow of fire to ward off the doubts.

Not that I was some kind of nun. My main indulgences were:

thin little roll ups in liquorice papers smoked on the library steps, about one every half hour

a bottle of vodka in my bottom drawer for winding down at the end of a long essay

the occasional lump of cheap hash to see me through the holidays

a boy from Norfolk with nice dark eyes, though that was more trouble than it was worth.

By the final year, though, I knew I was heading for at least a 2:1, possibly even a First. There didn't seem so many of the loud talky ones around by then. There were a lot of drop outs. On the one hand that made it hard, because the spotlight began to shine on me a bit more. I couldn't just hide in the back of the seminars anymore, I was invited to contribute. On the other hand, those little glows of praise from my lecturers had grown into a proper fire, burning day and night. And I started to see them as human, my tutors, not as untouchable gods or whatever but as people who were obsessed by the past, by trying to dig it up and see it as it was, just like me. It was hard to believe I'd made it to the end of the three years. And now they were encouraging me to take it further, to do an MA.

I mean, it was way beyond what I'd expected. That last year was just wonderful, I loved it.

The day I graduated, my mother cried and my brother puked. We were all in the union bar, toasting each other. I can drink my brother under the table, and I did that day. Uncle Lloyd was there too, wearing a blue suit that I won't forget too soon, putting away the cheap beer and chatting a bit too much to girls. My father hadn't turned up. He'd promised he would, but that's my father. I can't believe I really expected him to be there. Maybe I didn't, I can't quite remember now.

So anyway, yes. That was, nice, to be doing so well. And now I got to spend the next couple of years digging around in sub-Roman Britain, a time I'd been mildly obsessed with since I heard the stories of Saint David and Saint Dyfrig in RE at school. I always saw it as this mysterious realm full of saints and kings and warlords and clashing cosmologies, and all of it hidden in layers and layers of myth and dirt. It was like digging up a real life epic, it was kind of  a dream come true for me.

On the other hand, after three years as a student I was completely broke, massively in debt, and I hadn't made any friends. And now I was back at home, with my mother, in my old bedroom, commuting to Cardiff from Aberdare, an hour each way on the train, to do my studying. I was making a tiny bit of money working part-time in college libraries at different campuses all over the place, Merthyr, Treforest, all over. I read my Mary Beard books over lunch, and on station platforms in all weathers I listened to podcasts.

My mind was usually far off in the mist, tracing trade routes of lost empires, digging through dead cities, reading old epitaphs. I was starting to feel a bit sort of nothing about everything, or everything modern, everyday life, here and now. I'd even stopped watching reality TV. The only things I watched now were documentaries. Well, and Derren Brown, I loved his stuff.

Everyone I'd known, my uni friends, had all sort of evaporated. The same thing had happened when I left school, or whenever I changed jobs. It was happening again now. Helen and Julie, Rupinder, Jay, Alex and Steve, Danny, my sort of ex, they'd almost faded out, just a year after we all graduated and I promised to stay in touch. None of my friendships were ever strong enough to survive the transition, everyone just floated away. I couldn't say why.

I was happy enough though, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my own company. To be honest, I couldn't really imagine looking round a historical site with someone else. Having to talk to them, listen to them, instead of just looking at the stuff. Or standing on an iron age site, a hill fort, looking down into the valley, no sound, only the wind whispering and the birds calling – and just because someone else is there you've got to ruin it all with small talk. I tried to see it in more positive terms but I failed to convince myself. I just couldn't imagine it. Very often, I paid for the audio guide tour, with the headphones.

Anyway, there was this librarian I was sort of obsessed with. His name was Will and he was twenty nine. He worked at the humanities library at Cardiff Uni. I did some shifts there, he was sort of my line manager, one of them anyway. He was slim and tall with thick hair and he talked a lot. The women all loved him. He was funny though not quite as funny as he thought. Well, they never are, are they? But he wore tight jeans and brown boots and they suited him, oh my god they suited him. His eyes were green and twinkly, his grin was cheeky. I didn't think he fancied me but I knew for sure that he knew I fancied him.

I sometimes got flustered when we were chatting in a corridor. I was full of pent-up lust. There were moments when literally all I wanted out of life was for Will to turn up at my door late one night and fuck me senseless. Preferably a Friday night, when my mother was out with the darts girls and I was all wet and alluring from my Prosecco bath.

Anyway it was no good, he had a girlfriend. Cerys. They lived together. No kids though. So there was always the chance they'd split up. I tried to gauge the likelihood. It seemed a pretty stormy relationship. He made lots of bad jokes about him and Cerys rowing all the time, her insane jealousy.

He turned up to work one day with his wrist in a splint. When we asked him about it, he said this: "A woman in a bar came up to ask where the toilets were, and the missus didn't like it so she broke my wrist, just as a friendly warning." It turned out later he was joking and he'd actually fallen over drunk. Everyone laughed. But the next day when we were getting cans from the machine Will confided to me that the reason he'd fallen was because Cerys pushed him over some bins on the way back from the pub. "We shouldn't drink together, me and her," he told me. "Only one of us should be drunk at a time. Or it goes bad."

So it all seemed quite volatile. Sometimes he looked miserable. There were phone calls from Cerys that sent him scuttling outside, scowling. He made lots of jokes about how unreasonable she was, how she flew into a rage, shouted and screamed. In dark moments I imagined that what he was leaving out from all these stories for the sake of decency was all the amazing, passionate, hot sex they were having when they weren't rowing. She probably shouted and screamed all the way through that too. Lucky bitch. I didn't have enough experience to make that assumption, really, but it crept up on me sometimes as a slightly depressing certainty.

All this drama seemed very distant from my own life. It was like watching I, Claudius, all that passion, the lust and the violence, Brian Blessed. And there was me, alone in my teenage bed at night, my hand wandering down, trying to visualise the exact lift and curvature of beautiful Will's tight bum. I was wondering if it was finally time I invested in a vibrator.

So then they did split up, Will and Cerys. It wasn't the first time but she'd gone back to Llanelli or Ammanford or wherever she was from, and apparently she'd never done that before. Will seemed pretty upset and he got a lot of sympathy at work, which he obviously enjoyed. I'd say the percentage male/female split at the humanities library was about 30/70 to the girls. Some of the men seemed a bit uncomfortable with this, with being out-numbered, but others blatantly loved being surrounded by women. Will was one of those.

He started going out for drinks after work. We'd all go, a big pack of us. Yes, me too. This sort of party gang developed. Friday nights mostly and usually around Cathays, in the Woodville or the Pen and Wig. There was boozing and there was bad behaviour. I got caught up in it a bit. I'm not really into that kind of thing, in general. I'm useless at small talk, it's just embarrassing, so I drink too much to compensate, and I talk a load of crap, wear myself out, and have to spend the next fortnight in bed. But it's funny how a change in just one colleague's relationship status can act as a catalyst on the pent up frustrations of the whole office.

And of course I always had to catch the last train back home. That was at ten to eleven so I was leaving early, baling out while the night was still young. They were all staying out, Will and everyone, they were going on somewhere else. And I'd be on the train, half-cut but not quite pissed, with all the sweaty bellowing valley boys, nodding-waking-dribbling all the way back to cold dark Aberdare.

There was nothing left for me at home really. The girls who'd stayed there were on their second or third kids. We had nothing in common now. All the boys were messing about with the same old things as before, cars and sports and booze, just with jowls now and already balding. Thinking about it, I don't suppose I had much in common with anyone in the first place.

So I started staying the night now and again with my new friend Abby who was doing a PhD and lived in Roath. Not every weekend, just if it was going to be a big night, someone's birthday or whatever excuse came up. I was quite good at drinking, still am, and I'd always be among the last standing. It was me who had to get Abby into a taxi and find her door key and let us in and, more than once, hold her hair back while she was sick. And when it came down to the last handful at the very end, Will was always there too. Will and me, Abby, Hannah, Chris, a few others. There until the bitter end. None of us had anything much to go home to really.

So one Friday night we ended up in this over-priced cocktail bar on City Road, six or seven of us I think, probably about 1am. Abby and I happened to be sitting opposite Will, the three of us leaning in close over a tiny glossy circle of table to be heard above the music. He was on great form that night, Will. He listened to the latest installment of Abby's catastrophic love life with great interest and had a lot to say about it all. He told Abby that none of it was her fault and she deserved much better. He said, "Look at me, after all this Cerys stuff – I'm bruised, sure, I'm bruised to holy fuck, but I'm not bleeding." I'd almost say he was cosying up her to her but I didn't get that feeling, it read more like a supportive friend thing. Also, I noticed that he was addressing quite a few of his comments on love and heartbreak and so on directly at me. As in, right into my eyes. So of course I began to feel ridiculously excited and kept insisting on more drinks all round.

When men try and chat you up, it's almost always boring, and forced, and makes you cringe. I mean, I suppose I'm partly to blame because I'm just no good at small talk. And chatting up is usually just a subset of small talk, really. You're not usually talking about anything in particular, there's nothing to cling on to, and it's all crappy, you're just wafting these threadbare festoons at each other in desperation. So I tend to just sort of clam up and that's the effect most blokes' efforts have on me, their intended target. Not Will. He was good.

Abby was talking to Hannah so now Will and I were just looking at each other over our tiny table. He grinned and beckoned me to lean in closer, so I did, and he said, "I'd like to try something out on you, if you don't mind." So I raised my eyebrows at him and said Um, okay..? To which Will did a mischievous little chuckle and told me it was a kind of personality test, and I said A test? O-kaaaay... "Don't be worried though", he said, "it's not serious, it's just a bit of buggering about, of no diagnostic value," so I said, Well that's a relief and he chuckled again.

And he was wearing this really nice aftershave and I could see the hairs on his chest poking over the top of his shirt. Plus I was half-cut. Plus it had been a bloody long while since I'd even been near a bloke. So you can imagine, can't you?

Will's idea turned out to be quite good. Basically, you've heard that thing – if you could have as your superpower either being able to fly or being able to make yourself invisible, which would you choose? Those crappy questions you get on Facebook that are meant to reveal some essential truth about your personality based on a seemingly throwaway choice you make. Well, Will said he hated it because it was an obvious fix, a swizz, the superpowers thing, because all the traits associated with flying were really good ones – success, confidence, flying high, reaching for the sky, freedom, the great beyond. And then you had invisibility, said Will, which was the choice of creeps. Think of the kinds of things being invisible would allow you, would invite you to do. It's nothing very noble, is it, Will said. It's sneaking around, it's hiding, not being upfront and honest. It's peeping toms, he said, it's sneaks and spies and saboteurs, it's eavesdroppers and shoplifters and pickpockets. Invisibility appeals to the voyeur, to the nosey parker and the perv. So it wasn't really much of a choice, he said, in fact it was a complete fix and he'd thought of his own, much better alternative.

I was laughing at all this, by the way, and reaching across to maul his arm from time to time. This was a good deal better than your average chat up, I was thinking, and even if it wasn't a chat up I was having fun with a silly man on a Friday night and and he was making me laugh so just go with it, just enjoy yourself for god's sake.

"Okay," says Will, "here's the thing. Some old fella down the road from you, mad professor type, he's built a time machine. It's in his garden shed and he's invited you to have a go."

"So this old man is trying to get me to go into his garden shed with him?" I say. "I don't think I believe he's got a time machine in there, to be honest. I think he might have other reasons."

"Fair point," says Will. "Make it your grandfather then. Someone you trust."

"How about my grandmother?"

Will says, "What's the matter, you don't trust your grandfather?"

"Very funny," I say. "Well, yes I did trust my grandfather and he did make things in his shed, but he's not alive now so..."

"Oh shit. Sorry," he says. "I haven't got any grandparents left, as of last month. Ah well, life's a shit, your grandmother it is then. Okay, so you go into the shed, there's the time machine, and your lovely old Nana is inviting you to be the first to have a go on it."

"First?"

"Yup. First ever trip, the maiden voyage. And she wants it to be you, her favourite grand-daughter."

"Her only grand-daughter, " I tell him. "So, I'm like a sort of guinea pig? My Nan wants me as a guinea pig?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Will says. "But in a very loving way."

I did one of my stupid big honking snorting laughs all over him at this point. By now, fed up with shouting over the music, Will had come round the table and we were pretty much squeezed together. He seemed to enjoy it, this muffled explosion of me. We were laughing at my laugh. I called it my walrus call, he said it was a great, unashamed, life-affirming laugh, he said it was one of the great laughs. What a bloody charmer, eh? I was seriously starting to wonder if I'd be spending the night at Will's instead of holding Abby's hair as she puked. I was starting to feel pretty damn good about myself, doing all the sexy banter, all the flirty-flirty stuff. I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, I don't always read the signals. This, though, with Will, this Friday night, I felt bloody fantastic about everything.

"Alright, forget about your Nan and the shed and everything," Will said. "You've just got hold of this time machine somehow, okay? But you can only use it once, I mean for one return trip. There and back, then that's it. So the question is – where would you choose to go, the future or the past?" Then he frowned. "Actually this might not work so well on you because you're an archaeology student, not a normal person."

Anyway, to speed things up a bit, that question of Will's led to a conversation between us that went on until we all got chucked out of the place at about two and then continued in the taxi heading for Abby's house. I told Will I'd choose to visit the past, of course, either to sub-Roman Britain to see what it was really like, or all the way back to the start, before agriculture, to when we were still nomads. We talked about that for a while, the distant past, then Will said if he had the one-trip time machine he'd definitely choose the future, no question at all. At least two thousand years, he said, either that or a few million, because he wanted to see how it all panned out. 

So then we talked about that for a while, the far future. It was all quite slurry and rambly and drunken, of course, but it just kept going, and we got on to what all this might for our respective personalities, and about the state of the world in general, whether things were getting better or worse, whether there was any hope for the human race and all that. 

And then, suddenly it seemed, we were outside Abby's house and she was getting out of the taxi, stumbling on her doorstep, trying to find her key, fiddling it into the lock, waving goodnight, and falling into her hallway, while I was staying in the taxi with Will, who was in the middle of saying that there never was a golden age, it was just a fantasy, there was never a time when everything was in harmony and everyone was happy, but that there could possibly be one at some point to come if we didn't blow ourselves up or make ourselves extinct through climate change, and also there was Paul the spotty Australian IT boy who was fast asleep and snoring and had to be shoved really hard to wake him and get him out at his place in Riverside while we went on to Will's flat, quite a nice one in Llandaf North.

And then, suddenly it seemed, it was a year a later and we were on holiday in Rome. It was my first ever visit and it was amazing, overwhelming, beautiful, and Will and I were celebrating the anniversary of that night when we got together, and we were walking around having what was basically a continuation of the same conversation that we'd started then, in that over-priced cocktail bar in Roath.

It was an odd match really, Will and I. We were different in lots and lots and lots of ways. We hardly agreed on anything. And at first, I think we were both kind of fascinated by how different we were, despite having quite a lot in common. Here are some of the things we had in common:

smallish working class valleys hometowns, Aberdare and Glynneath

stopped feeling that we fit in to our respective hometowns at around the same age, 14

each had an older brother who got married and moved away, his to England, mine to Monmouthshire, which amounts to the same thing

divorced parents, both our dads had left home, both of us were under 10 at the time, and neither of us really saw much of our fathers

both went to Welsh school but hadn't really kept up the language since

first in our family to get a degree, Will having achieved a 2:2 in psychology

we'd both been members of the Green Party at some point, although neither of us was now

similarly miserable teenage years, greasy depressions spent in cocoons of totemic books, music, films, art, clothes, comedy, metaphysics, magic, comics, etc, evolving into a dense and intricate personal para-reality to which the everyday world of bus stops and dog shit was merely a laughable and mundane annexe.

It felt as though we'd started off in roughly the same place but had headed in different directions. We kept coming back to the past/future thing, it was like some structuring principle we used in thinking about our differences. Here are some of differences we noticed:

Favourite films - me: Agora, with Rachel Weisz as Hypatia, Elizabeth, with Cate Blanchett, Mel Gibson's Mayan epic Apocalypto, and yes Gladiator. Will liked Bladerunner, Alien, Star Wars, the first Matrix, The Fifth Element, and Guardians of the Galaxy

Books/authors – On holidays from my study reading I liked Sarah Waters and Hilary Mantel. One of my favourites was Alan Garner, ever since I read The Owl Service when I was thirteen. As a kid I read and loved all of Tolkien to the point where it affected my dreams and I saw epic battles on my walk to school, raging in the morning clouds that cling to the scarp of Maerdy mountain. Will had never read any Tolkien but had an impressive number of multi-part space operas under his belt, his favourite being Iain M. Banks' Culture novels. He could quote huge chunks of Douglas Adams and he also loved William Gibson...or was it William Burroughs? One or the other anyway. He mostly read non-fiction now, a lot of pop science, Freakonomics, Malcolm Gladwell, Dawkins.

Music – I listened to Fairport Convention and Nina Simone. Will listened to German minimal techno

The state of the world today – we both agreed that everything was in a right mess, massive poverty, total exploitation, greed, capitalism, eco collapse, extinction event imminent, all caused by us. Not just Will and me. Humans. Where we differed was where we looked for possible solutions. It was the time machine again – he went forward, I went back. Will felt there was no way to fix all the things wrong with the world by going back, it was too late. Humans had caused damage to the world by being too clever – fossil fuels, international tourism etc – but it was only humans therefore who could fix it all, by being even more clever. He looked to a post-market utopia in which we've abolished scarcity, outgrown the lizard brain, conquered evil and greed with intelligence, and built a new world based on a new understanding. We'd first heal our planet with our incredible new machines, and then we'd move out beyond Earth in creative, peaceful waves, slowly evolving into children of the stars. I exaggerate, but only a bit. And me, I still do the same now, I dig back to older societies and pre-modern ways of life, tribal ways and folk narratives, non-profit motives, sustainability, to structures of feeling abandoned on the road to modernity, old medicines for our modern sickness. Will was never very open to any of this stuff. His closing flourish was always something about whatever the old days might have had going for them, it was basically a kind of blissful ignorance, hardly to be envied, and besides, no-one – not even you! - would genuinely want to live in any era of human history before reliable anaesthetics were invented.

As I say, we hardly agreed on anything. But in the early days that was part of what made it fun. We used to debate things a lot in the early days, it was what we did. And whatever we were talking about, at some level you could sense that same old past/present thing, his time machine thing. It really seemed to me he'd hit on something essential about his approach to life and mine, and the differences between them.

So we were in a cafe opposite the Colosseum having coffee, sat right in the bay window, watching the street life. I tried to order two double espressos but I messed up my pronunciation and the waiter brought us singles. Will beckoned the guy back over, and the waiter smiled and said, in English, "You want milk?" Will gave him half a grin, shook his head, and said, "Nessun latte – doppio – prego," and they both laughed, the waiter nodding and whisking off our tray. Then Will turned back to me and grinned his bloody adorable grin. I was thinking we might have this coffee then maybe pop back to the hotel room for an hour or so.

"Milk indeed," he said. "He must have taken us for a couple of weak ass English milk weeds."

I laughed.

"You know what you should do, Will? You should be a writer. You should write something."

"Ha, what?" he said. "I don't think so. I haven't got anything to say."

"You've always got something to say, you idiot."

"Well, yeah, but it's all bullshit really, when you come down to it."

"Well, yeah, but that needn't matter. Look at some of the crap that that sells."

"Mmm, Da Vinci Code, Fifty Shades, Jeremy Clarkson, fair point," he said. "But, no, no, I really don't think there's anything in my particular brand of bullshit that would sell."

"I don't know," I said. "What about your time machine? I'd say you could definitely make something out of that. It's good. It gets you thinking."

"Do you reckon?"

"I do, yes, I think you could make that into something, a story, something funny and clever," I said, "like you."

And he leaned across the table and kissed me. A big kiss, right there in the bay window, with everyone going by. When I opened my eyes again he was smiling at me, his eyes were so warm, he was so handsome, and golden autumnal Rome was glowing away behind him. I felt so good, so happy, more than happy. It was all so much more than I'd expected. I whispered a suggestion to him and, after our espressos, we popped back to the hotel for an hour.

Will often said he'd like to write but he never did. And the thing is, he already had a story about that time machine, an actual story with a beginning, a middle, and a funny but very bleak punchline. I couldn't see why he didn't write it up. Can we just skip just for a minute back to that first night I spent with Will, at his flat in Llandaf North? So it's stupid o'clock in the morning, we're both at the point where you drink yourselves sober, and we're out on his brown bolted balcony. I'm squinting at

glimpses of the Millennium Stadium and the BT building through the trees. A mile and half away, the city centre. The rain is falling but the air is warm and smells sweet. We're still not quite sure if we're going to do it. Will had a text from his ex earlier – at three in the morning! - and it sort of made the atmosphere between us a bit weird. So now we're on the balcony, talking. I remember telling him that all his Bladerunners and his Aliens and his cyberpunk whatever, all these futures he was into were all horrible. Mostly these were all dystopias. It was satire. The future in most of these things he loved was some crazy exaggerated version of today's world, with all our problems pushed to the limit. I remember him grinning as I pressed the point.  Well, he said, realistically, and whatever I'd prefer, it's probably more likely we'll fuck it all up and ruin the world. Realistically speaking, he said. That's funny, I told him, you love the future but you don't even believe in it really. Your best guess is it's going to be even worse than today.

And then he told me this story. There's this couple, he said, and she's like you, she loves the past. And he loves the future. And one day this time machine really does turn up, but you can only take one ride each in it. Just one return trip because human minds can only deal with the experience once in a lifetime, any more and you burn out your brain. So she goes first, heads into the past, and comes back a few seconds later in a state of deep depression and disillusionment. Then he has a go, into the future, and comes back a few seconds, depressed and disillusioned. They conclude from their experiences that the present is as good as it gets and enter into a suicide pact. As for living, they say, our spambots can do that for us. But then he remembers that he's already visited both their graves in the far future and the dates on their headstones made it clear they were going to live for several more decades so they don't bother and just split up. She later married a quantity surveyor and bought a big house near Chepstow, and he drank himself to death.  

So it was a funny little story with a bleak punchline. I kept telling him to write it up but he never did. I couldn't understand because he kept saying he wanted to write. I mean, I thought it would be a good little exercise to get him started. After all, he had the whole thing there, he just had to write it up. But he didn't write it. He didn't write anything. If he did, I never saw it.

This morning I looked through my bedroom window and the sky was turning a lighter and lighter blue as the sun came up over the motorway. Everything around was beginning to glow. By the time I got to work the clouds had come, colours went grey, and at lunchtime it started raining. It was pouring down as I drove home at five. I sat in a traffic jam on Cathedral Road, blowing the heaters to clear the windscreen, getting hot and prickly, opening the window and getting splashed, and thinking, well, how quickly it came and went, that early sun, and what a long time ago it seemed now.

There's a Welsh saying, Nid yn y bore mae canmol diwrnod teg. A rough translation would be something like, Morning is not the time to praise a fine day. In other words, it's very unwise to call it a nice day when it's still early and it might well piss down later. I love that. It's one of the cliches about the Welsh, that we're very pessimistic. All down to the rain, or the diet, or being conquered, or the Miners Strike. I can't speak for anyone else though, Welsh or otherwise. You might call it pessimism, fair enough - I just call it realism.

I've just got back from a conference in Rome. The paper I gave looked at some of the connections between Macsen Wledig of the Mabinogion and the real life Roman emperor Magnus Maximus. It was beautiful, of course, as it always is in the autumn, golden, and glowing. I walked down by the Tiber where all the plane trees had turned orange and were dropping their leaves into the river. Being the maudlin bitch I am, I made a point of walking pretty much the exact route I walked with Will, eleven years ago now, from the Circus to the Colosseum and up to the Capitoline Hill. It was dark by the time I got to the top and my legs were aching. I leaned on a railing, looking down at the spotlit Forum, and I thought about Will, and I thought about my father, who died six months ago next Tuesday, and I felt like crying to be honest. But I didn't, partly because it would have been pathetic and made me feel worse, but mainly because these anti-depressants I'm on seem to dry up my tear ducts. I get the trigger to cry but nothing comes. Probably for the best.

When I get home from these things I'm always exhausted. Even a short trip with no paper to give leaves me completely worn out. I know what it is. It's not the work, that's nothing. It's not even giving the paper, I've long since built my public speaking armour, I can climb into it whenever I need to. No, it's all the other stuff. The chatting and socialising. Relaxing, kicking back. Networking. All that side of it. I'm useless at it. Wears me out. Never been any good at that stuff.

So I tend to get home, lock myself in my house, set the phone to messages, and basically not talk to anyone for, well, for as long as I can get away with. Which is usually about 48 hours, then I go back to work. I always make sure to book time off for exactly this purpose. I call it my decompression period. If I don't get it, if I have to go straight back to work, I go a bit mad. Noticably so. Incredibly irritable, interspersed with moments of mild hysteria. To be fair to my colleagues, they're used to it by now, they've adapted, it's become 'a thing', an amusing thing everyone knows about me, Anna. Academia is a perfect trap for eccentrics. Everyone has their quirks, but actual, diagnosable personality disorders are no more or less common than in any other vocation.

I haven't really changed. Not really.

During decompression I can't even read anything. All my books stay on their shelves. I turn instead to the internet. Last night I watched a whole series of a forgotten ITV sitcom from the 80s called Me and My Girl, starring Richard O'Sullivan as a widower bringing up his now teenage daughter Sam, played by Emma Ridley. Don't ask me why, it's not very good. And this morning I looked up Will's Facebook. Don't ask me why. He's got his profile set to public so I can have a good look at all his family holidays, his wife's birthday, their anniversaries, their kids growing up. Not that I envy her, I can just imagine all the crap she has to put up with. She probably doesn't even know the half of it. She looks more and more hopeless in the pictures, to be quite honest, and a bit thinner every time. This – looking at Will's Facebook – this is no good. I realise that and I hardly ever do it. Why would I, really? I found out all about Will a long time ago, and that's why we're not together now. The main feeling I get when I think of how close I came to ending up with him is relief. I look around my cosy house and I think, wow, close escape. But when I'm in this state, post-conference, I end up doing it, peeking into Will's life, I don't know why.

I wondered if Will ever did rouse himself to write anything. If he ever made something of his time machine thing. By the look of his Facebook, he hadn't, he was still at the humanities library, head of department. When I was full of his family pictures I just sorted of drifted through various Google searches, all pretty desultory. I suppose I was vaguely wondering if anyone else had come up with a similar idea anywhere in the world. Turned out, someone had. My drifting led to a review of a book of short stories, called Minimum City, including one which sounded remarkably similar to Will's time machine story. It was just a synopsis really but it was enough to make me look up the short story collection and its author. It was an American author, a man, quite a big name but I'd never heard of him. Contemporary set fiction still isn't really my thing. From reading the Amazon reviews and all the rest of it, this is what I learned about Minimum City:

It was made up of 28 stories

They were all very short, some only a paragraph long

It was a very slim book, with big type and wide margins

All the stories were set in the modern world

They all tended to have some kind of twist / sting in the tail

The tone was cynical, darkly funny, etc etc

It didn't sound like my kind of thing but I could imagine Will enjoying it, at least Will as he was when I knew him, I can't speak for now obviously. I found the story. It had first been published in an online literature journal before being collected in the Minimum City collection. Its title was The Return Trip. It was very short. A couple come into possession of a time machine. All the rest follows exactly as in the story Will told me on the balcony of his flat in The Crescent at about four in the morning, twelve years ago. Right down to the spambots line. 

I'd already checked publication dates. The Return Trip by this American author whose name eludes me now was first published in an online magazine called Young Boasthard's four years and eight months before Will told me the story. It was collected in Minimum City and published by Harper Collins six months before Will told me that story and passed it off as his own, on the balcony of his flat.

And I started laughing and laughing, until I had to put my bowl down in case I got milky cornflakes over my t-shirt.

[five-wow]

i watched 10.09! you know how this goes, live recorded rambles under the cut

JUNIOR. junior’s fumbly support for steve? it’s THE SWEETEST.

also just. i’m pretty sure steve hasn’t had a thanksgiving that doris was present for in at least six or seven years, potentially more something like twenty-five (was doris present for thanksgiving that one time she stayed on oahu for a bit? i don’t remember), but either way, not having her there is not going to be a new thing. still extremely sweet and thoughtful of junior, though, because having a lot of family over could of course still make the loss feel worse.

sjdfkdjk danny’s entrance is a whole thing (of beauty) BUT ALSO. they’re talking about steve having “an extra room”, as in one, and that confuses me somewhat because how did that work when the mcgarretts were still a happy little family (or pretending to be one) with a mom, a dad and two kids? did steve and mary share a room? and that time when aunt deb and mary (and joan) were all in oahu at the same time, weren’t they all staying with steve? I ALWAYS THOUGHT STEVE HAD TWO SPARE BEDROOMS, is what i’m saying, and my entire worldview (of steve’s house) is being proven wrong.

okay sooooo. they establish that a) steve has one spare bedroom, b) junior is staying in it and c) danny can’t have the couch because it’s eddie’s, and then steve says “of course you’re welcome to stay in my house”. so. the bed (steve’s, steve’s bed) is big enough for the two of them? is that what i’m hearing here? because it sounds like that’s what i’m hearing here.

the thieves stole a tree! i LOVE that little number someone put on the trunk, fjdkfd. “ah, a lack of tree. this is evidence.”

and then junior says “my parents’ house” and another thing i thought i knew is suddenly not true because i always sort of assumed his parents were seperated? idk, maybe that was a misconception on my part, but we’ve seen him with his dad and i thought they kind of discussed his mom like she was living somewhere else? for a while i even thought she was dead, but i had figured out that wasn’t true before just now, at least. (would’ve made for an interesting story too, though, i he had gotten a call from his mother’s ghost.)

JUNIOR’S MOTHER. on screen!!! she is definitely very much not dead, then, omg. let’s put a tiny yellow evidence marker on her, too.

junior and tani are investigating the robbery at junior’s parents’ house, lou and quinn were following leads on the koa wood case, and steve and danny were... having a pleasantly relaxed lunch together? that’s my headcanon now, and nobody can tell me i’m wrong.

this storyline, which leads to tani and junior having super heavy conversations about addiction and the helplessness of people around the addicted person? god, it’s good.

so danny brings steve coffee and steve says that’s “highly suspicious behavior” and then says that danny is still not getting the guest room but also that danny should do him a favor and take it easy on the caffeine because he gets all “jittery and stupid” when he drinks too much coffee and LISTEN, i get that it’s probably not what’s meant here, but i’m taking this as “no, you can’t have the guest room because junior is staying there, so we’ll have to share a bed and i can’t sleep if you keep turning over and over because you can’t sleep, so don’t drink too much coffee, please”.

you know, as much as i love tani and junior working together and the fact that junior is getting this deep storyline, i also can’t stop thinking that it’s a really bad idea to let junior work a case that’s obviously so emotional and complicated for him. tani asking him to hold on and checking if he’s okay is neat, but to be honest, he probably shouldn’t be doing this in the first place, gosh.

i paused on the letter junior finds in the box and i think it’s adressed to junior’s dad and it says “your boy is not only a sterling soldier but more importantly he is an exemplary human being” and !!!!!! yes

junior and his emotionally distant father trying their hardest to have a relationship despite all their issues and painful history!! they made me cry!! and then that hug!!!!

oh. OHO. quinn to danny: “is she your ex? because i keep getting conflicting reports.” THANK YOU, QUINN. THAT’S WHAT I WAS WONDERING and literally just wrote a longish tumblr post about in which i also jokingly predicted that the next episode would probably bring the issue up now that i did that, and apparently that was true, fdjfkd. but GOOD. they SHOULD mention it.

so. sooooooo. rachel is danny’s ex but they’re trying to maybe work things out but they’ve been doing that for months by this point, if the timeline is to be trusted at all, and they haven’t worked it out enough to be having thanksgiving together or for danny to stay at rachel’s place when his house has mold, so that means the answer to quinn’s “how’s that going?” is “badly”. AN ANSWER. FINALLY.

junior taking his parents to the thanksgiving party at steve’s and steve talking junior up to his parents is EXACTLY the kind of content i want in my h50. and then tani shows up with the jewellry that was stolen from junior’s mom! she’s building up a lot of Good Daughter-In-Law credit in advance, oh my gosh.

junior!!! telling tani!!! how important she is to him!!! and how much he appreciates her!!! is ALSO THE EXACT CONTENT I WANT. THIS. IS SO GOOD

also: “but you- have been the constant in my life” is like, god, the height of romance. i love them. i love them so much.

and then junior implies that their tentative dating didn’t go anywhere because he’s been so occupied with the stuff with his dad but that he wants to change that and tani says that sounds good and !!! yes. i love them.

i am YELLING. steve tells lou straight out that he KNOWS that there’s no mold in danny’s house and that danny just turned up and went “i’m staying with you now” despite how full the house is BECAUSE HE’S WORRIED ABOUT STEVE.

and it ends with steve playing some football anyway even though he said he wasn’t going to this year, ahhh. that is so very good.

final verdict: the “also, danny moves in with mcgarrett” from the episode description was kind of very far in the background, but what we did get DID NOT DISAPPOINT. also, the way this ended definitely leaves potential for danny to still be living with steve in the next episode? he probably won’t be, but a viewer can hope. either way, this was a VERY GOOD episode, especially on the tani and junior front, and i love it for that, ahhhhh.

[iwillbeinmynest]

Hold On Loosely - Biker!Steve x Reader(f)    Chapter 10

Authors Notes:  If you’d like to be tagged please send me an ask. I keep better track of tags that way.

Word Count: 1.6k

Special Thanks: Here’s to @itsanerdlife for fueling my Biker obsession and being my Beta for this whole thing. To my girl over at @girl-next-door-writes who also beta’ed for me. And an extra shout out to @bettercallsabs for this beautiful graphic. She is amazing and y’all need to check her out!!

Notes/Warnings: (My notes and warnings are for the story as a whole. Some notes and Warnings will not apply to every chapter.) smoking (I do not support smoking. keep your lungs clean y’all.) drinking, (be of age, don’t be stupid) minor violence, backstabbing, attempted murder, anxiety, stress, mentions of death, car accident, trauma, …I think that’s it. let me know if I’ve missed something.

Master List

The week was almost over and Y/N and Steve had fallen into a comfortable routing of being around each other. Every morning, Y/N would get up and start the coffee and then head into her office to answer emails. Steve would get up some thirty minutes later and bring her a hot cup and a kiss. He’d then head out to Bucky’s and be with the club while Y/N worked through the day.

 But today was different. Y/N had a meeting with a new client and Steve had never seen her so antsy. she ran around the house trying to get herself dressed and ready while mumbling to herself about selling points and skills she could offer. She almost ran into him for the third time.

 “Babe, take a breath.” He tried to grab her arm to stop her bustling but she slipped away.

 “I'm breathing just fine, Steve.” She snapped.

 Steve's brows raised and Y/N sighed. 

 “I’m sorry. I get so nervous with first meetings. I'm about to be finished with three clients so I need this new one but what if he doesn't like me?” She pressed her forehead into his chest.

 “You're meeting a guy? By yourself?” He couldn’t help but be bothered by it.

 “I mean, I think it’s a guy.” She shrugged as she went back to her stack of papers on the kitchen counter. She had a habit of printing everything out and Steve loved that about her, kind of new-aged, old-fashioned. She lifted up one sheet and studied it. “Email address says Chris but there's no other tell so it could be a girl I guess.”

 “But you don’t know.”

 She sighed. “No, I don’t. Being drilled by your jealous tendencies isn’t helping.”

 He shook his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I just-”

 “I know, I know.” She waved him off.

 Steve snaked his arms around her again. “I gotta protect my girl.” He kissed her neck and she stilled. 

 “But you do trust me right?” The look in her eyes was sincere. “You know I’ll call you if anything doesn’t feel right.”

 “Yeah, I know.” And he did. He trusted her. He just didn’t trust anyone else with her.

 Thunder rolled in low and deep as the faint sound of rain pattered over the house.

 “Great and now my hair will be a mess.” Y/N huffed.

 “But a beautiful mess.” Steve smirked. “You just make sure to drive careful. Don’t rush or speed. Your client isn’t worth your life, baby.”

 “I know and the same goes for you on that bike.” She pointed a finger at his nose and he chuckled. “I’m serious, Steve. Don’t get cocky and get killed-”

 It had meant to be a semi-serious comment but somehow it ended up giving her flashbacks of Danny.

 Steve watched the life flash from her for a moment. She almost turned white. And she looked like she was suddenly really worried he might die.

 “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” She stuttered shaking her head and coming back to the present.

 Steve pulled her back into a firm hug. “Hey, don’t worry. I promise I’ll be careful. I promise.” He kissed her head and she nodded. “You good, baby?”

 “Yeah,” She said quietly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I do need to get going, though. I don’t want to be late. That’s not a very good first impression.”

 And there she was again. Bright and smiling. Steve just hoped it wasn’t an act.

 “Okay, let me know when you’re done and I’ll meet you somewhere for lunch.”

 “That sounds perfect.” Y/N said as she threw her bag onto her shoulder. She kissed him quick and was out the door. 

 Steve watched as she fumbled with her umbrella for a second before getting in her car and driving off. Then, he grabbed his helmet, set the alarm and left for the club.

 Thankfully, Steve’s ride wasn’t wet for long. The rain let up only a few minutes after he left, making the rest of his twenty minute drive humid and sticky. When he pulled up to the club house it looked like something was wrong.

 Prospects were watching Bucky and Nat hurry onto their bikes with Sam and Luke shouting orders on who’s responsible for what until they got back.

 Steve pulled up to Bucky who flagged him down.

 “Where is your phone, punk?!” Bucky shouted and swore.

 “In my pocket, why?” Steve growled back at the unwelcome tone.

 “You need to be able to answer it. Even when you’re riding, you know that!”

 Steve did know that but he’d promised Y/N to ride safe and it seemed like a distraction especially on wet roads. 

 “Y/N was in a car accident.” Nat explained as she buckled her helmet. 

 Steve’s heart fell to his boots and without a word he revved his bike, turning on a dime and speeding out of the gravel lot.

 The next thirty minutes were the worst of his life. He probably should have let Nat finish talking but he was too scared to stick around. Y/N had told him which coffee shop she was going to and he knew what route she’d most likely taken so, now, he was just waiting to see the flashing lights.

 And sure enough, there they were. He got as close as he could then jumped off his bike and threw his keys at Sam, who’d kept pace with him for this very reason.

 He ran up towards the first cop he could find but his feet slowed when he saw the two cars that were smashed up. Y/N’s car had been T-boned on the passenger side. Her airbag had been deployed and the drivers side window had a huge crack in it.

 Steve ran his hands through his hair and muttered a string of curse words then pulled himself together. He found a cop talking to a tow truck driver. 

“Hey, this is my girl’s car. Where is she?” He tried not to sound panicked but he wasn’t sure how good of a job he was doing. 

 The female officer looked hesitant but pointed to an ambulance. “In the back of the bus. She-” 

 He didn’t wait for her to finish. “Y/N!” He yelled as he ran the few dozen yards to the neon-yellow boxed truck. He rounded the corner to the back of the ambulance and could have cried.

 “Steve!” Y/N’s chin quivered and her eyes watered as he grabbed her tight in a hug. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see him!” She sobbed.

 Steve pushed her back to get a better look at her. Now that he knew she was alive, he wanted to know how bad she was hurt so he’d know how long to make the guy who did this to her suffer.

 She had a massive cut on her head that was bruising all around. There was dried blood on her cheeks and she was holding a white towel that was almost completely red. Her shoulder was bruised and her left arm was in a sling.

 He turned to the paramedic. “What happened to her?”

 “You the boyfriend?” The paramedic asked. At Steve’s short nod, the man in the blue jacket sighed. “She wouldn’t let us take her until you got here but she needs to be checked for a concussion. She was a little dazed when we got to her but I think it was mostly shock. Her shoulder and head took the brunt of the blow and she’s going to need at least four stitches on this gash, here. Her shoulder should be fine but I recommend an x-ray.”

 Steve nodded. “Thank you. You can take her now.”

 “I don’t want to go to the hospital, Steve.” She almost pleaded with him.

 “You’re going to be fine but you need to let them do their job. You need to see a doctor.” He gently helped her back to the spot she’d been sitting in and, after checking the cut himself, put the towel back on her head since it was still bleeding. 

 “Steve, please.” She looked terrified. He knew this reminded her of Danny’s accident and he figured going to the hospital was freaking her out.

 “You’ll be fine. I’m coming with you.” He reassured. He turned to the paramedic. “Can you give a me a minute before you go?”

 The paramedic shrugged. “That’s up to her.”

 Y/N nodded. “I’m not leaving without him.”

 Steve looked back to the wreck. He could see Bucky speaking with a man that he assumed was the man who hit Y/N. “I’m going to talk to Buck real quick. I’ll be right back.” He gave Y/N’s hand a quick squeeze and was off.

 He walked with a gait that screamed ‘murder’, both Bucky and Sam had to step in front of him to get him to stop.

 “It’s not his fault, man.“ Sam started.

Bucky put a hand firm on Steves chest, holding him back. “Sam’s right. This guy isn’t who you want.” 

 “Then tell me who, Buck.” Steve demanded.

 “First of all,” Bucky started with raised brows. “You need to remember who you’re talking to. Secondly, this is club business and we don’t handle that out in the streets for the cops to see. You got me?”

  Steve took a deep breath and his jaw ticked. “Yeah, I got you, Pres.”

 “Some punk on a chopper cut this guy off and when he swerved to try and keep from hitting the bike, he hit Y/N instead. This guy says the guy on the bike had a kutte on. Didn’t know the club but we’ll get to the bottom of that later. Right now, you need to be with your old lady and make sure she’s okay.”

 Sam patted Steve’s shoulder. “Save that fire in your eyes for the man who deserves it.”

 “Get on that bus.” Bucky instructed. “Nat will ride your bike over to the hospital.”

 Steve nodded and huffed, turning back to Y/N. He stood by while they loaded her in, then he hopped into the back. 

 With a flick of the lights, the ambulance headed out.

***********

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[flowerfan2]

Something Blue - Bound To Be Together Alternate Ending

McDanno, E, A03.  53k in total; 7k this chapter - Something Blue

Author’s note:  Towards the end of season 9 I spent a lot of time thinking about how I might fix or otherwise explain whatever craziness canon was going to give us in the last episode. This story came about as an explanation for a possible Steve and Cath wedding.

It’s sort of an AU alternate ending to the coda series in Bound To Be Together, but can also be read as a stand-alone story. Warning for angst and handwringing, but all in the service of a happy ending.

Thanks to all of you who read and enjoyed this fic, and ranted with me about Season 9.  Writing this and getting to know so many other H50 fans has been a wonderful experience.

Summary: Steve and Catherine get married on a typically beautiful day, filled with all the joy such an occasion should bring. Danny doesn’t feel at all joyful about it, however.  He feels miserable.  Danny agreed to this, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Something Blue

The Kahala resort is undeniably beautiful.  Danny enjoyed it a lot more, however, back when he was watching Grace swim with the dolphins.  Standing up as Steve’s best man as Steve marries Catherine really isn’t any fun at all.

After the ceremony, Danny wanders off to the side, champagne glass in hand.  The happy couple has chosen to bypass many of the classic wedding traditions, so fortunately Danny doesn’t have to give a formal toast, or sit through a first dance, or really do anything at all except stand around and keep a smile pasted on his face.

Danny declines a glass of champagne from a festively dressed server.  He feels vaguely ill, overheated in his rented tux.  Adding alcohol to the mix doesn’t seem like a good idea.  Even the smell of the passed hors d'oeuvres is making him queasy.  

He chats mindlessly with a guest who comes by and gushes about how beautiful the bride is, and how she had no idea Steve was even engaged.  Danny doesn’t know her name – someone who works with Noelani, he thinks – but he can’t get up the energy to care.  Eventually the guest moves away, and Danny risks a quick glance at his watch.

“Thinking of leaving already, boss?” Tani asks softly, coming to stand next to him.  She looks lovely in her gown, a dark green which contrasts beautifully with her hair. “You okay?”

Danny struggles to focus on her words, and find some kind of appropriately convincing response, but he doesn’t come up with much. “Sure, I’m fine.”

Tani tilts her head at him.  No point in feigning cheer with her, her bullshit meter is way too fine-tuned for that.

“I did not see this coming.”  Tani slides in front of him, narrowing her eyes.  “I’m guessing you didn’t either?”

 Danny looks away.  “Steve was gonna ask her to marry him, a few years ago.  She told him later she would have said yes.”  He shrugs.  “Guess it was just a matter of time.”

 “Yeah, but-”

 “Just don’t, okay?”  Danny can’t argue about this right now.  Not with the DJ playing dance tunes and Catherine wearing a freakin’ full-on lace wedding dress and Steve’s ring on her finger.

 “Sorry,” Tani says.  “Really.”  She puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly, her eyes searching his.  “Wanna dance?”

 Danny sees Grace coming towards them, looking ridiculously grown up and beautiful, but with the same look of concern on her face as Tani has on hers.  Rude or not, he’s got to get out of here.  He can’t face his little girl right now.

 “Tani, do me a favor – dance with Grace instead.”

 Tani nods, and turns to intercept his daughter. Danny strides away, across the courtyard and through the hotel.  He almost manages to get away clean, but he’s outside waiting for an Uber when he hears his name being called.

 “Daniel?  Can we talk for a minute?”

 It’s Rachel, of course.  Danny wonders how many people saw her running after him as he made his escape.  How many believed he and Rachel were an item again, when they arrived together, Grace and Charlie in tow.  

 “I’m not feeling well, Rach.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”

 She gives him a pained look.  “I know this is hard for you, but it is what we all agreed on.” Her accent gets stronger when she’s upset, and from the sound of it, she hasn’t enjoyed the afternoon’s charade much either.  “Are you having second thoughts?”

 Danny huffs out a bitter laugh.  “Like you said, I agreed to this.  Guess the joke’s on me.”

 *****

 Danny kicks his feet up on top of his carry-on and leans back in the uncomfortable plastic seat.  It’s late, and LAX is quiet.  He’s got almost three more hours before he needs to get in line to board his connecting flight to Boston.  

 He parted ways with Rachel earlier, after he walked her to her gate.  She’s got a lot more flight time ahead of her, on her way to London for few weeks of vacation.  The kids are joining her but traveling separately, all to enhance the optics of Rachel and Danny going off together for a long-awaited tryst.

 Danny has just managed to doze off when his carry-on is yanked out from under his feet.  He jumps up, instantly awake and ready to dash after the culprit, and sees Steve, carry-on bag in hand.

 “You’re just asking for that to get stolen,” Steve says.  His face seems to be undecided as to whether it wants to smile or apologize.  There’s been a lot of that lately.

 Danny has half a mind to slug his partner, but instead he finds himself moving in close.  Steve’s arms come around him, folding him in tight, and Danny practically goes weak in the knees.  God, he’s a sucker.  But it feels like it’s been ages since he’s been here, since he and Steve last touched with any motive other than keeping up platonic appearances.

 It’s been almost a week since Steve got married.

 They finally board their flight.  They’re not seated together, of course, that would have been too easy.  Steve has managed to snag himself an aisle seat, and Danny’s got a window, several rows behind him and on the other side of the plane.  Once Danny sits down, he can’t see Steve anymore, although he hears his voice as he politely helps another passenger hoist their bag up into the overhead compartment.

 The kid next to Danny is restless, moving back and forth, constantly leaning down to rummage through the backpack he’s shoved under the seat in front of him.  He seems to be traveling alone, busy on his phone, not making conversation with the woman seated on the aisle on his other side.  Danny makes him out to be in his twenties.  He’s got his music turned up loud enough that Danny can hear it through his earbuds, which is supremely annoying.

 Danny tries to sleep, wishing that the idiot next to him would settle down.  Finally the boy gets up to stretch his legs or storm the cockpit and Danny slides into a doze.

 He rouses to the feel of something warm being laid over him and squints open an eye.  Steve is in the seat next to him, and Steve’s sweatshirt is draped over Danny’s torso.

 “You looked cold.”  Steve’s face is blank, which generally means he’s concerned, and trying not to show it.  

 Danny lifts the arm between the seats out of the way and shifts, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.  It’s a lot more comfortable than the cold plastic of the airplane window.  He wonders briefly how Steve got the kid to switch seats with him, then realizes Steve traded his aisle seat for a squished middle one.  Next to Danny.

 “Thanks.”

 “You’re welcome,” Steve says softly.  

 They’re both beyond tired by the time they land in Boston.  They make their way to the baggage claim in silence, taking turns watching for their bags and using the restroom.  Danny avoids the mirror, not wanting to look too closely at the bags under his eyes. It makes him feel a little better that Steve looks beat too.

 They hadn’t bothered reserving a rental car, or making any hotel arrangements.  This wasn’t the carefully planned, eagerly anticipated trip that Danny once imagined they’d take together.  

 Steve is standing with their bags when Danny gets out of the bathroom, and they lug them on to a shuttle bus that goes to the airport Hilton.  Fortunately there are rooms available.  Danny wants to make a joke about how many beds they need, he thinks there’s a rom-com moment in there somewhere, but he’s just too tired.

 Their room is sterile and entirely uninteresting but it’s got a bed and that’s all Danny cares about.  Steve mutters something about showering but Danny just strips down to his boxers and passes out.

 Sometime not much later he wakes up and sees Steve sitting on the edge of the other bed, looking lost, and his heart breaks a little. “Hey, come here.”  Danny holds up the edge of the sheet, and Steve lurches over, scrambling under the covers as if he’s worried that if he doesn’t move quickly enough Danny will change his mind.

 Steve’s warm and damp from his shower, and his hair smells like shampoo.  Danny bundles him close and falls asleep with Steve’s arm heavy over his chest, his knees pressed up against Danny’s thigh.  It’s the most comfortable Danny’s been in weeks.

 Danny’s sense of time is all messed up, but they manage to sleep and doze and sleep again until it’s more or less morning. Danny showers and shaves and then goes downstairs to see what the rental car options are while Steve takes his turn in the bathroom.  

 Finally, after another shuttle bus and a relatively short wait at the rental car counter, they’re in their car and on their way. Steve insists on getting a Jeep. “There are mountains in New Hampshire, Danny,” he explains.  Danny thinks that Steve has never been to Colorado, where he might actually see some real mountains, but that’s a trip for another day.

 They drive sluggishly through Boston rush hour traffic, which doesn’t let up for over an hour.  Steve mutters in annoyance the whole time, and Danny wants to pat himself on the back for not saying “I told you so” about how the Honolulu traffic everyone complains about back home is nothing compared to East Coast traffic.

 Danny can see the U.S.S. Constitution and the Bunker Hill Monument as they crawl along Route 93.  He thinks that Steve would enjoy touring the city, checking out the Navy Yard and the museum, if they were here for that.  Steve’s never been here before.  It’s one of the reasons they picked New England for this – the landscape bears little resemblance to anywhere they’ve been together.  No beaches and lush tropical greens, no desert, no Montana plains.  Someplace new.

 By the time they cross over into New Hampshire, Danny’s stomach is growling.  They pull off the highway and find a diner, where they order giant plates of eggs and pancakes.  It’s not nearly as good as what they usually get at their favorite Honolulu breakfast place. And there’s no coconut syrup.

 They’re about to pay the bill when Steve gets a look on his face (it’s what Danny once called the constipated face, but he’s since decided that’s too kind).  “I know things have been rough lately-”

 “Not now.”  Danny cuts him off.

 Steve looks momentarily startled, then nods. “Okay.”  And who says Steve hasn’t learned anything over the years?  At least he’s figured out that prompting Danny into yelling – or crying, he’s not sure which is more likely – in the middle of a sticky diner in Londonderry isn’t the best idea.

 They turn the radio on when they get back in the car, and Danny fiddles with the dial, trying to find something entertaining enough but mostly devoid of meaning.  It’s hard to avoid love songs, though, or breakup songs.  Luckily there aren’t many “you married your ex-girlfriend and pretended we didn’t exist in front of all our friends and family” songs in the top 40 these days.

 When they get close to the town where they’ve reserved an airbnb they stop at a grocery store.  Danny doesn’t tease Steve when he fills the cart with enough steak and hamburger to feed the team for a week, just makes sure they buy charcoal, too. And ice cream.  The mood he’s in, he needs lots of ice cream.

 They drive down a long, narrow dirt road to get to the house.  The place isn’t much to look at from the back, but when they go inside there are windows stretching up two stories with a stunning view of a sparkling lake.  The first floor has a kitchen open to a living room with two comfortable couches and a dark leather armchair, and a dining table off to the side.  Upstairs is a landing that looks out over the living room, and past that are two bedrooms and a bathroom.  Nothing fancy to take away from the beauty of what’s outside, but all very welcoming in woodsy shades of green and brown.

 Danny opens the sliding doors to the deck, taking in the promised grill (which is, of course, gas, no need to have bought all that charcoal).  He imagines coming out here early in the morning, drinking his coffee while the sun comes up over the lake.

 There’s a small yard with a canoe pulled up out of the water.  An aluminum dock stretches out away from the shore, with a speedboat tied securely to the side.  Nice toys.

 Steve hadn’t let him see any of the rental details, including the price.  Said it was his treat.  Danny had wondered if it was unfair, at the time, but he no longer has a problem with it. It’s a little petty, but Danny hopes it’s even more expensive than he guessed.

 He goes back inside to help unpack the groceries, and sees Steve with his cell phone to his ear.  “It’s Cath,” Steve explains.  Danny wants to snatch Steve’s phone and hurl it across the room, but he refrains.  Who knows, maybe Steve and Cath are having a critical conversation about their new wedding china.

 Needing to put a little space between himself and whatever is so important that Steve still needs to be talking to Catherine, Danny goes out onto the deck again, and then down to the yard.  He walks to the end of the dock and sits down, taking off his shoes so he can put his feet in the water.

 The lake is cold and dark.  Nothing like the warm, clear turquoise of the Hawaiian ocean. Danny takes a deep breath of the pine-scented air, and, remarkably, misses the salt smell of Steve’s beach. It figures that he’d get attached to that damn place.

 At least Catherine hadn’t insisted on getting married at Steve’s house.  Danny didn’t think he would have been able to go through with it, if she had.  And despite his current state of misery, he knows there were good reasons to go through with it.  

 When Catherine called a few weeks ago with a lead on one of the world’s most wanted terrorists, Danny was more than willing to help her out.  But then she revealed that she wouldn’t be able to get close to this guy unless she had the status of a married woman – and that being married to a particular former Navy SEAL would entice their target into thinking he could get something truly valuable from Cath.   Danny had thought for sure that Steve would refuse.

 Obviously, he didn’t.

 To be fair, Catherine didn’t know – still doesn’t know – the true nature of Steve and Danny’s relationship.  And although Danny is pretty sure that Five-0 suspects, he and Steve have never come out and told them, so they thought that the team would buy it.

 And they did, as far as he can tell.  It hurts, frankly, how easily they bought it. Despite everything their friends have seen between him and Steve, when Catherine showed up, everyone accepted that she was Steve’s soulmate, some magical creature who could waltz back into his life and be automatically adored.  Sure, the wedding was put together quickly, but hey, look at those lovebirds finally getting their act together, how wonderful for them, let’s all help throw them a party to celebrate…

 It makes Danny ache.

 Only Rachel was let in on the secret, so she could help with their cover.  It made sense - he and Rachel have been getting along well lately.  Even Steve worried that they might get back together. So in the week before the wedding they played up the Rachel and Danny angle, Danny dropping her name into conversation more frequently and making sure everyone heard about a successful romantic dinner at Rachel’s favorite Honolulu hot spot.  

 Danny drew the line at a double date with Steve and Catherine, however.  He had to retain some measure of dignity.

 The pièce de résistance was Steve and Danny scheduling their honeymoon and vacation with their respective significant others at the same time, to give the rest of Five-0 a chance to really take charge of the team, fly without a net, etc. etc.  Danny owes Steve $50 for that one, he’s still not sure how Steve got Tani to think it was her idea.  

 In theory, in the time that they are away, Cath will accomplish her mission, and the farce can be revealed.  No harm no foul, life goes on.

 Except Danny feels so goddamn awful, he’s forced to rethink the whole “no foul” business.

 Danny pulls himself out of his thoughts as the dock vibrates with Steve’s footsteps.

 “Mind if I join you?”  Steve speaks in the same half-casual, half-tentative tone he’s been using for the past week or so.    

 “Sure.”

 Steve sits down next to him, dangling his bare feet in the cool water next to Danny’s.  Danny wonders how things would be different if this were another kind of trip - if Steve would be splashing him, poking him, shoving him off the dock. Following him in with a sleek dive, or a raucous cannonball.  Wrapping his arms around Danny in the water, dunking him under and kissing him senseless when he came up.

 “I really am sorry,” Steve says.  Some kind of bird hoots in the distance, as if for punctuation.

 “Don’t apologize,” Danny responds.  He’s been over and over this in his head, and it’s not Steve’s fault.  “I agreed to it.”

 “But I’m still sorry.  I hurt you.  You can’t tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 There it is, then.  The truth of it.

 “Yeah,” Danny says softly.  “You did.”  He leans his head on his hands, elbows on his knees.  “Or, really, the situation hurt.  It wasn’t you.”

 “That’s bullshit.  Situations don’t just happen.”

 “That’s remarkably perceptive of you,” Danny snaps, more sharply than he intended.  He lets out a long breath, picking up his head to stare out over the lake.  There’s a tiny island not too far away, trees sticking up haphazardly all over it, like Steve’s hair first thing in the morning.

 “I should never have said yes to it,” Steve continues.

 “<i>We</i> should never have said yes to it.  But we did, and here we are.”

 “And here we are,” Steve repeats quietly.  

 More long minutes go by.  The goose or whatever it is hoots some more.  Danny flicks a gnat away from his face, wishes he was wearing his sunglasses.  

 “I’ve gotta ask you something, Danny.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Do you want to fix this?”

 The question takes him by surprise.  “What?”

 Steve looks at him sadly.  “Did we screw it up too much, or do you want to try to fix it?”

 Danny hears roaring in his ears.  “Did I not just fly halfway across the planet on some lame-ass excuse just to do that very thing?  What do you think we’re doing here?  What the hell is wrong with you?”

 “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

 Danny draws in a breath to yell some more, only no words come out.  He shakes his head.  “This is the weirdest conversation.”

 Steve nods.  “Kind of a role reversal, I get it.  But Danny, to be clear, I do want to fix it.  Us.  Just so you know.”

 Despite the fact that this should be obvious, it’s still good to hear.  Danny feels himself relax a little bit more.  “I figured as much, with all the eyelash fluttering.”

 Steve snorts.  “I do not flutter my eyelashes.”

 “You totally do.”  

 Steve scoots a little closer to Danny, leans up against him and rests his head on his shoulder.  Danny leans into him in response.  He can’t help it, no matter how upset he is, his body wants to be close to Steve.

 “Listen,” Steve says calmly.  “I’m going to go back up to the house grill some steaks, put some beer on ice.  We’re going to have a nice meal, watch some tv, and crash early.  Sound good?”

 Danny nods.  “Yeah.”

 “But tomorrow, we’re putting on our big boy pants and facing the music.  No more moping.  Deal?”

 Danny wants to be annoyed – feelings don’t work that way – but it’s actually a relief to think there’s an end to this misery. Maybe super-SEAL Steve can just make it so.  “Yeah. Deal.”

 Danny plays around with the television while Steve grills, and puts on a documentary about the making of Game of Thrones. They eat sitting on the couches, beers on the coffee table, and argue about whether or not the writers treated Dany the way she deserved, and whether Bran could be a good ruler.  Their banter almost feels normal.

 After dinner they half-heartedly watch a few episodes of a cooking show, and then Danny cleans up while Steve goes upstairs with their luggage.  Steve’s coming out of the shower by the time Danny goes upstairs, and he goes in to take his turn.  The bathroom has a skylight in its slanted ceiling, but it’s dark now, and there’s nothing to see.  

 Steve’s in bed when Danny comes out, sitting up with his tablet on his lap.  The bed is a queen, with a green and brown patchwork kind of quilt that Steve has pushed back.  Steve’s wearing sweat pants and a worn Navy t-shirt, and looks about as non-threatening as a six foot tall guy in your bed can be.

 Steve has unpacked their things into neat little piles in the drawers, and Danny quickly changes into his own sleep pants and t-shirt, trying not to feel self-conscious as he drops his towel and pulls on his clothes.  It’s ridiculous, given how many times he’s been proudly naked in front of this man, but things feel different now.

 There’s a rift between them, and Danny can’t seem to shake it.  He thinks back to Steve’s question on the dock - <i>do you want to fix this?</i>   Of course he does.  He doesn’t understand what his problem is.

 Steve reaches towards the light on the night table. “Do you want to go to sleep?  Or read for a  while?”

 “Nah, I’m tired.”

 Steve nods and turns off the light as Danny climbs into bed.  It’s hard lying there without touching Steve, but Danny leaves a little strip of space anyway.  Steve moves, and without conscious thought, Danny flinches.

 There’s a long, awkward moment.

 “I’m not going to do anything you don’t wanna do, Danny.  But you acting like I might… it kinda stings.”

 And doesn’t that pack a punch.  “Fuck, Steve, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to, I’m just…”  He doesn’t even know what to say, so he moves in close to Steve and wraps his arms around him.  

 “I miss you,” Danny says, his face pressed against Steve’s neck, “and I’m mad at you, and I want you, and at the same time I feel sick about the whole thing.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I don’t know what to do.”

 “I love you, Danny,” Steve says softly. “But I can’t make you forgive me if you don’t want to.”

 “You think I don’t want to?”

 Steve shrugs.  “What do I know?  It seems like it.”

 “I’ll figure it out, Steve.  I promise.”  Danny lifts himself up on an elbow.  He can’t really see Steve’s face, but he cups his cheek, and leans in for a kiss. Steve returns the kiss quickly, letting out a little sound of surprise.

 They exchange gentle kisses for a few minutes, Steve lightly holding the back of Danny’s neck, then Danny pulls away and settles in his usual spot on Steve’s chest, cheek against the soft fabric of his t-shirt.  Steve breathes heavily for a moment, rubbing circles on Danny’s back, and then presses a kiss to his hair.

 “We’re gonna be okay, Danno,” Steve says, more confidence in his voice than Danny has heard in a while.  “We’ll both figure it out.  It’s gonna be okay.”

 *****

Danny is awakened in the morning by the sound of his vibrating phone sliding off the night table and hitting the hardwood floor. He scrambles to reach it and hits answer when he sees that it’s Grace calling.

 “Danno, you lied to me.”

 Danny flops over on his back, glancing at the clock. Seven a.m., which means it’s noon in London.  He wonders if Grace thought she was being considerate by waiting until seven to call him.

 “Grace, it’s awfully early for this.”

 “I think it’s kind of late, actually.”

 Steve has clued into what’s happening by now, and has slid his head over right next to Danny’s so he can hear both sides of the conversation.

 “What exactly are you mad about?”  Danny doesn’t want to give away more than he needs to – maybe Grace is just peeved that Danny isn’t in London with them.

 “The wedding, obviously.  How could you not tell me what’s really going on?”

 Danny sighs.  “Because as mature and grown-up as you are, you actually aren’t eligible to be read into this op.”

 “You can tell me.  You told Mom.”

 “I had to, monkey.  How did you find out, anyway?  Your mom’s a pretty decent liar, I thought she’d be able to stick to the story for at least a few more days.”

 Steve snorts next to him, apparently in agreement about Rachel’s skills at deception.

 “It was you, you gave it away.”

 “I did not.  I never said a thing.”

 “Your face did,” Grace retorts.  “You were so fake and annoying before the wedding, and during the ceremony you looked like you were going to hurl.  You had me worried for Uncle Steve.”

 “For Steve?”

 “Yeah, I figured maybe he got cancer from the radiation, and he had to marry Catherine for the insurance, but Mom says that’s not it.”

 Steve is shaking behind him, muffling his laughter into Danny’s shoulder.  Danny swats him with his free hand and tries to focus on Grace.

 “Your mother is right, Steve is fine, he thankfully does not have cancer or any other similar illness of which I am aware.  And why would he need insurance from Catherine?”

 “I don’t know, it’s a thing people get married for, how should I know?  Mom always said your insurance was crappy, that’s why she tried to keep Charlie on Stan’s.”

 The conversation is veering into territory Danny has no intention of exploring.  “For the record, my health insurance is just fine, and so is Steve’s.” He takes a deep breath.  “Grace, I really can’t discuss this right now.  But Steve and I are fine.  Hopefully I can tell you more in a few weeks, okay?”

 “That’s not fair.”

 “Can I talk to her?”  Steve asks under his breath, pointing to the phone.  Danny nods and hands it over.

 “Grace?  It’s Steve.” Steve rolls over and sits up on the edge of the bed, then gets up and walks out of the room with the phone. Danny is tempted to follow him, but then he decides he’ll just let Steve work his magic.  Grace is much more likely to be satisfied with whatever Steve tells her.  He tries not to take it too personally.

 A few minutes later Steve returns and hands Danny the phone.  He says a quick goodbye to Grace, who apparently needs to get ready to go out for lunch with her grandparents anyway, and hangs up.

 “What did you say to her?”

 Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, looking intently at Danny.  “I told her that I love her and Charlie, and you, very much, and I would never do anything to hurt any of you.  That you are the most important person in my life, and that nothing was happening that you and I didn’t plan together.   I asked her if she could trust me on that, and wait to hear the rest of it for a few more weeks, and she said yes.”

 Danny takes a moment to absorb this.  “You told her that I was the most important person in your life?”

 “Yes, I did.”

 “Come here.”  Danny pulls Steve against him, hugging him tight, and Steve squeezes him right back.  “I love you, you know that, right?”

 Steve nods against his shoulder.

 “I do, Steve.  I love you like crazy.”

 They stay that way for a few minutes, and then Steve pulls away.  “Okay if I go for a swim?”

 Danny scans Steve’s face, but he can’t find any reason to say no, despite the fact that he’d rather keep Steve close. “Sure.”

 While Steve’s gone Danny takes a quick shower, pulls on jeans and a sweatshirt, and heads downstairs to make coffee.  There’s a thin layer of fog over the water, and he can’t see Steve.  It’s not as if Steve can’t take care of himself in a lake that doesn’t even have any sharks in it, but he’ll feel better when he’s back.

 Danny takes two cups of coffee and a towel out to the deck and sits at the table, letting his thoughts wander.  He breathes easier when he spots Steve heading back towards the dock, his powerful strokes making ripples as he goes.

 Watching Steve pull himself up on to the dock and walk towards the shore, water streaming down his body, is a view Danny will never get tired of.

 Coming up on to the deck, Steve takes the towel from Danny with a grateful nod.   After Steve dries himself off (also a great show) they sit together in silence for a little while, sipping their coffee.

 “You know what I’m in the mood for?”  Steve asks, breaking the silence.

 “What?”

 “Pizza.”

 It’s still early in the morning, and Steve never wants pizza, but Danny isn’t about to object.

 “Okay.”

 By the time they get ready to leave the house, they still haven’t decided on whether to get take-out or go to the grocery store for the necessary items to make pizza from scratch.  Danny used to do it all the time with Grace, so he knows they can do a decent job themselves, but then they see a pizza joint that opens early, and they decide to take the lazy way out.

 They still have some time to kill so they walk around the little town for a while, browsing in a bookstore with a surprisingly interesting selection of books about mysteries in New England, and treating themselves to an overpriced pound of assorted gummies and chocolate covered fruit from a candy store.  Danny buys them lattes flavored with real maple syrup, which Steve declares disgusting. Danny kind of agrees, although he’s not about to admit it.

 Finally the pizza place opens, and they scroll through their phones as they wait for their order to be ready.  Danny’s got a text from Grace apologizing for being a pain and sending him a bunch of cute emojis, which do their job and make him smile.

 When their order is called Steve offers to pay – the first time that day, Danny can’t help but point out – and just as he’s digging his fingers into his wallet to extract his money, a ring flies out and clatters to the ground, rolling away towards the door.

 The woman next to them at the counter dives for it and hands it back to Steve.  “Got it!” she announces triumphantly.  “You wouldn’t want to lose this.”

 The tips of Steve’s ears have gone red, but he plays along, thanking the woman and stuffing the ring into his pocket.

 Danny takes the pizza and they walk out to the Jeep. Danny is concentrating on not saying anything, because anything he says is just going to make matters worse. When they get inside, Steve starts the car, pulls out onto the road, and then glances at him pointedly before speaking.

 “Okay, out with it.”

 “What?”

 “You’re dying to yell at me,” Steve says.  “Go ahead, get it over with.”

 “I’m not going to yell at you.  Why would I yell at you?  You haven’t even started driving yet.”

 “Danny…”

 Danny considers his options.  Steve’s right, he’s probably not going to be able to keep quiet about this.  Might as well get it over with or Steve will just keep bothering him about it.  “Just wondering if that’s the same ring Harry gave you to use back in Laos.  Or if you got a new one.”

 A pause.  Danny watches Steve’s face, but he doesn’t give anything away.

 “And that matters… why?”

 Danny shrugs.  “Don’t know.  But you asked, and that’s what I was thinking.”

 “No, it’s not the same ring – Harry took those rings back.”  Steve’s definitely got a tone, and not surprisingly, it’s fairly tense.  “What, do you think I’ve had the rings sitting around my house this whole time?”

 “How would I know?  You never got rid of the engagement ring you got Cath.”

 Steve’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “I didn’t know what to do with it.”

 “Well, guess it’s a good thing you kept it.” Which is completely unfair of Danny to say.  It doesn’t even make sense – Steve and Cath just used plain gold wedding rings in the ceremony, as it turned out, although Danny had expected to see the diamond make an appearance.   He had, in fact, driven himself kind of nuts waiting for it to appear on Catherine’s finger in the days before the wedding.  Not that he was looking that closely, or anything.

 It’s only a few minutes’ drive back to the house, although it feels like forever.  When they pull into the driveway, Steve turns off the car and sits still for a long moment, biting his lip.  Finally he turns to Danny.

 “You know, this hasn’t been fun for me either. When I wanted to ask for real, Catherine rejected me.  Then she comes back and wants a wedding, not because she cares about me, but because I’m useful.”

 “You looked like you were having fun, standing up there in your tux in front of everyone, professing your love and devotion.” Danny regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth.  He knows it’s not true, but he can’t seem to stop picking at this scab.

 “Danny, if you think there is anyone I want to be saying those words to besides you, you really haven’t been paying attention.” Steve gets out of the car and closes the door, walking into the house without even a glance back in Danny’s direction.

 Danny leans over and bangs his head against the dashboard.  

 The smell of pizza permeates the car.  It’s not helping.

 Danny’s torn between wanting to give Steve a minute or two to cool off, and knowing that time probably won’t make his fuck-up any less painful.  Taking the pizza with him (it’s not the pizza’s fault Danny is a dumb-ass) he goes inside the house.

 Steve is out on the deck, leaning against the railing.

 “I’m sorry, babe.  I was out of line.  I’m sorry.”

 Danny comes up behind Steve, puts his hands on his shoulders and leans his forehead against his back.  “Please, you know I’m an idiot when I start running my mouth. I’m sorry.”

 Steve turns in Danny’s arms, his face drawn, eyes flickering up to Danny’s and then back down again.  “This hurt me too,” he says, his voice rough.  “Why can’t you see that?”

 Danny feels his heart break.  “I do, I do see it.  I should have seen it before.  I’m sorry.” Danny tilts his head up and kisses Steve, who kisses back with more force than Danny expected, sending a sudden shiver down his spine.  Steve practically attacks his mouth, biting at his lip, clutching tight at Danny’s sides.

 Danny feels Steve shuffle him backwards, until he’s pushed down into a chair, Steve straddling him and grabbing his face with both hands.

 The deck chair creaks and Danny turns his face just enough to get a full breath, holding Steve back when he tries to dive back in for more.  

 “Hey, hey, calm down,” Danny says.  “It’s okay.  It’s okay.”  

 “Danny…” Steve pants out, sounding desperate. “What do I have to do?  Just tell me, I’ll do it, I don’t want to fight anymore.”

 “We’re not fighting.  It’s okay, we’re fine.  I promise.  We’re fine.”

 Steve sags against Danny, still breathing hard. Danny strokes his hands up and down Steve’s back, trying to soothe him.  “This was a dumb plan, okay?  We both know that now, we got the memo.  But the worst is over, right?  No more watching the love of our life marry somebody else, no more having to pretend with fucking Catherine.  That part’s all done.”

 Steve squirms in Danny’s hold, and then sits up, the wrecked look on his face replaced by something decidedly more hopeful. “The love of your life?”

 Danny rocks his head back, embarrassed, but he can’t avoid Steve’s gaze for long.  “Yes, you goof.  You’re the love of my life.  I’ll write it on a pancake if you want.  Now get off me, before I lose all feeling in my legs.”

 Steve complies, lifting a long leg gracefully up and over Danny’s lap.  “You couldn’t fit that on a pancake.”

 “Two pancakes, then.  Or one really big pancake.”

 “Will you butter them for me?”

 Danny accepts Steve��s hand and lets him pull him up out of the chair, his back protesting at the angle.  “How about we reheat that pizza, and save the pancakes for later?”

 *****

The next few days feel almost normal, although it’s downright strange to have all this time with Steve and so little to do. Unlike normal, though, they don’t fill their free time with sex.  It just doesn’t feel right.

 One afternoon they take the speedboat out. Once they get past the little island with the funny trees the lake opens up.  It’s much bigger than Danny had realized, and they cruise around for an hour or so, exploring the little coves and looking for the bird Danny keeps hearing hoot at them.  

 “It’s a loon, Danny,” Steve insists.  But Danny can’t take this seriously, as “<i>you’re</i> a loon” seems to be the only appropriate response.

 They’ve turned off the boat’s engine, just letting themselves drift.  The sun is warmer today, and Steve has stripped off his shirt and is lying back with his eyes closed.  He looks like something out of a magazine.

 “Naptime?”  Danny asks.

 “Yeah, you should try it.”

 “Aren’t you afraid we’ll run into something?”

 Steve sits up.  “I put down the anchor.  How did you miss that?”

 Danny shrugs.  “I was looking for the bird.”

 Steve opens his mouth to say “loon” but realizes that Danny is goading him, and stops himself just in time.  “Come on, come up here with me.”

 Steve is stretched out on the deck by the bow, and he’s got a cushion under his head.  Danny tosses his own shirt below in the little cabin and climbs forward, joining Steve on the deck.  He lies down carefully, shuffling until his head is next to Steve’s.  

 The rocking of the boat is incredibly calming, and the heat of the sun on his skin quickly warms him through.  He runs his fingers over the bumpy surface of the deck. “What if we never went back?”

 Steve nuzzles Danny’s head.  “You’d miss Grace and Charlie.”

 “We could visit.”

 “You’d get bored.  You’re bored already.”

 “Says the man who felt the need to tune-up our rental car yesterday.”

 “It was making a noise.”

 “It’s a car, it’s supposed to make noise.” Danny sighs, poking at Steve’s side until Steve wraps their hands together.  “It’s just nice to be away, I guess.”

 “Didn’t know you liked pine trees so much.”

 “I don’t think it’s the pine trees.”  Danny lifts himself up a little, leans over and presses a kiss to Steve’s cheekbone, his hair blowing down over his face.  

 “That tickles,” Steve responds, cupping Danny’s face to guide Danny’s lips to his own.  “Mmm, better.”

 They make out lazily for a while, and then Steve dozes off, resting his face against Danny’s bare shoulder.  Danny considers ribbing him for falling asleep while kissing, but then decides to take it as a compliment.

 Later that night, as Danny is joining Steve in bed – once again, both of them clad in t-shirts and sleep pants - Danny manages to put words to the elephant in the room.

 “You, um, you don’t mind?  That we’re not-” he waves his hand vaguely between them.  

 Steve shrugs.  “It’s fine.  Besides, for the moment, I’m married.  At least until we file for divorce.”  He doesn’t say it like a joke, more like a death sentence.

 “Babe, are you… are you worried about committing adultery?”

 Steve blushes.  “No, of course not.”

 He maybe is, Danny thinks.  Who could have guessed?  Danny gets in bed and scoots over towards Steve.  “I was assuming we were both not engaging in… whatever,” he waves his hand again, “for the same reasons, but now I’m not so sure.”

 “It doesn’t matter,” Steve says, clearly uncomfortable.

 “I think it does,” Danny says gently.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

 Steve purses his lips.  “You already did.”

 “You didn’t have sex with Catherine after the wedding, right?”  Danny may have been upset at having to watch Steve go through with the ceremony, including kissing the bride, but not once has he doubted Steve’s fidelity.

 Steve’s eyes widen.  “Of course not, Danny, what do you think-”  

 “So you won’t be filing for divorce, it’ll be an annulment.  As if it never happened.”

 Danny’s not sure how this detail never occurred to Steve, but it clearly did not.  “Really?”

 “Yes, really.”

 “Oh.”  A little smile pulls at the corner of Steve’s mouth.  “An annulment.  That’s, um, that’s better.”  He glances up at Danny.  “Not that there’s anything wrong with being divorced, if you meant to be married in the first place, but-”  Steve sighs and ducks his head, leaning against Danny’s side.

 “But what?”

 “It felt like I was wasting it with her.  The whole time, through the ceremony, and the reception, with all the flowers and congratulations and celebrating…  I felt so empty.  And then I went to find you, and you were already gone – which I totally understand, but still… it wasn’t right.  I guess I wanted it to be special.”

 Danny slides down and wraps an arm around Steve, taking a moment to judge Steve’s mental state before responding.   He almost always laughs, no matter how awful Danny’s jokes are, but they’re on shaky ground these days.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” Danny finally says, seriously.  “I’m sorry you wasted your wedding virginity on Catherine.”

 Steve barks out a laugh, and then Danny is laughing too, until they’re both clutching their stomachs and gasping for air.  

 “Guess you can’t wear white at our wedding,” Danny spits out between cackles.

 “That’s offensive and archaic, I can wear whatever I want,” Steve replies, still laughing.

 It seems to take forever before they calm down, one of them starting up again and setting the other off, but they finally relax. Danny rests his head on Steve’s chest, fingers playing idly with the collar of his t-shirt.

 “So,” Steve says, “you, um, think we’re going to have a wedding someday, you and me?”

 Danny is suddenly glad he’s got a shirt on, because otherwise he’d probably be sporting a full body blush.  “If it’s up to me?  Yeah.”

 Steve squeezes Danny so tight for a moment he can hardly breathe.  “I’d like that too.”

 *****

Danny’s getting out the ingredients to make pancakes the next morning when Steve’s phone rings.  Steve picks it up and answers, straightening his shoulders in a way that makes Danny stop rattling pans and pay attention.

 “Okay.  Understood. Understood.”

 This side of the call isn’t very informative, and Steve has walked out onto the deck, clearly focused on the conversation. Soon Danny sees him shove his phone back into his pocket, and then turn towards Danny with a wide grin on his face.

 “Danno?”  Steve strides towards him and takes him in his arms.  “It’s over.  Cath’s op is done, the guy is in custody.  We don’t have to pretend anymore.  It’s over.”

 “That’s great, babe-” Whatever else Danny was going to say is lost as Steve kisses him hard and long.  Danny gives back just as enthusiastically, pulling away just long enough to nip at Steve’s jaw and suck at that spot on his neck that always makes Steve moan - and today is no exception.  Danny’s practically humping Steve’s leg when Steve stops them and starts to tug Danny towards the stairs.  

 Danny nearly trips over his own feet in his hurry to follow him, and Steve beams back at him.  They’re both stripping off their clothes as they go up, but Steve grabs Danny’s hands just as he’s about to divest himself of his briefs.

 “Hang on, buddy, we need to make sure we’re on the same page,” Steve says, still grinning like a lunatic.  

 “I dunno, you get over your aversion to cheating on your not-wife?”

 Steve’s smile gets impossibly wider, and he yanks his pants up off the floor, pulling out his cell phone from a pocket and stabbing at it vigorously.

 “It’s not cheating if she says it’s ok – see?”

 Steve’s pulled up a text, clearly from Cath, which says you have my full permission to ravish and be ravished. Danny’s kind of curious as to what exactly Steve asked, to get that kind of response, but that’s a question for another time.  Right now, there are more important matters to attend to.

 “So, which one will it be, then?”  Danny asks, as Steve gets his thumbs under the waistband of Danny’s briefs and impatiently renders Danny naked.  “Ravish or be ravished?”

 Steve drops to his knees and smiles up at Danny, his hands already sliding up Danny’s thighs and making him quiver.  “I’ll bet we can do both.”

 They do.