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Dinner out had been nixed in favor of grilling at Steve's house. If that decision had been influenced by wanting to be around when Mary brought Joan home, none of them were admitting it. Steve certainly didn't mind--Danny had brought beer, and being home meant Steve didn't have to drive.
And nobody had to worry about the baby being taken care of. Everyone was eager to take a turn playing with her, though they were quick to turn her over to Mary when she needed changing. Catherine was nice enough to save her, though, taking care of that job for her.
It was a good night, though, Steve thought, as he looked around, even if Chin had been sidetracked by texting. Which wasn't the first time, now that Steve thought about it. As the moon was really starting to take hold, Chin pushed up out of his chair. "Thanks for dinner," he said, "but I have somewhere I need to be."
The texts and the smile on Chin's face suddenly clicked in Steve's head, but he didn't ask. Chin would bring Lelani into their group when he was ready. Steve was just happy to see him smiling like that again. So he said nothing but 'goodnight,' and watched Chin leave before turning back to the group to find Danny's eyes on him.
Danny, who'd done exactly as Steve had asked and pretended like that kiss had never happened. Done such a good job that Steve had almost been tempted to ask him a few times if it had happened, or if he'd just dreamed it.
But then Danny would get that look, and Steve knew it hadn't been a dream.
Then the look would go back into hiding, leaving Steve wondering what to do with all the feelings it had brought to the surface. He was good at suppressing things--hell, if they ever made it an Olympic sport he would take the gold. But this one was taxing his considerable skills.
It didn't help that Danny was usually the one he talked to when his little compartments started to spill. He couldn't exactly talk to Danny about this one, and there really wasn't anyone else.
Which was a sad statement on his life, but he'd put himself in that position. And it was still a better position than it would've been if he'd never met Danny.
"Okay," Mary said, standing up and shifting Joan to her hip like a pro. "It's someone's bedtime."
"You can leave Joan if you're tired," Steve teased.
Mary rolled her eyes at him, looking like every bit the kid he remembered from decades ago. "Ha ha, very funny, big brother. However, I am going to sleep once I put her down. First rule of parenting--when they sleep, you sleep." She picked up the blanket and a few other things she'd brought out for the baby, then waved Joan's hand. "Say goodnight, Joan."
Steve and Danny said goodnight to the baby, but Catherine jumped up. "I'll help you get her to bed," she said, taking some of the baby's stuff from Mary and following her into the house.
After they were inside, Steve turned to find a totally different look on Danny's face. He knew that look too, though. Danny's detective brain was in overdrive about something. "What?" Steve asked.
Danny shrugged. "Nothing."
"That's not a nothing face."
"No, this face is a ten, babe."
Steve huffed, shaking his head. "What was the face for?"
Danny's tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Steve gripped the cool beer bottle in his hands a little tighter. "Catherine," Danny said slowly, looking up at the house for a moment before looking back at Steve. "She's very helpful with the baby."
"She's a helpful person," Steve said. "She's helpful with Grace, too."
Danny's lips thinned. "She quit the Navy for a regular life, Steve. With you. What do you think that involves in her mind?"
"I don't know. We never really talked about it."
Danny's laugh felt a little like broken glass. "You never--of course you never talked about it. You just...." Danny leaned forward, elbows on his knees, beer bottle dangling between his fingers as he contemplated the ocean.
"Speaking of things we're not talking about," he said finally, looking at Steve once more, "I know you're trying to take care of her. But is it fair," Danny continued, the words halting, as if he was still figuring out what he was trying to say, "to let her heal into a life that is going to end up cutting her wide open again?"
"It is when she's at her breaking point. Why do you think I gave her a job? She needs encouragement and stability. She's not ready for any more loss in her life right now. She couldn't handle it."
"I wonder," Danny said, studying Steve until Steve had to stop himself from squirming under the scrutiny, "if she's the one who can't handle it."
Steve sat back in his chair, one hand gripping the armrest. "I don't get your meaning," he said before he downed the rest of his beer.
"Yes, you do," Danny said. He opened his mouth, but then closed it, seeming to think better of whatever he was going to say, choosing to just look at Steve instead.
He would not squirm. He would not. "Honestly," Steve said, "I'm more worried about Mary."
He wasn't deflecting, he absolutely wasn't, even if that look on Danny's face practically screamed that accusation. Danny didn't voice it, though--not that he had to. Instead, he played along. "What thing are you worried about in particular? That she has the attention span of a kitten? Or that she's now responsible for a human life?"
"I think the combination," Steve said. He looked up to where he could see the light on in Mary's room. "I mean, Mary's inability to focus on one thing aside...it's not as if we really had the best role models when it comes to parenting."
Steve turned back to Danny, relieved to see his face open and listening, happy that this thing between them hadn't cost him his best friend. At least so far. "I mean, our mom faked her own death, and apparently still feels the need to run from us. And our dad sent us away. How could either of us be cut out to raise kids?"
"You're not your parents," Danny said softly. "Neither of you. And you don't have to hide from important relationships just because they sucked at them."
There was something far too knowing in Danny's eyes, visible even in just moonlight, and Steve had to turn away, that broken glass feeling taking up residence in his lungs. "I hope you're right," Steve said, clearing his throat before he continued. "Because, as you pointed out, that's a real live human being up there, and Mary has to take care of her."
"She has us to help," Danny said softly. "We won't let her screw it up too much."
Steve chanced another look at Danny. A mistake, such a mistake, the soft expression he wore stirring up all that glass until Steve wondered if he was somehow bleeding inside. He took a breath, surprised when it was only a little shaky. "She can't screw it up if you're around," Steve said, and this time he didn't even bother to clear his throat. "I don't know anyone who's better at being a parent than you."
That blinding smile was going to be the death of Steve. "Thank you," Danny said, "though really, your admission that you have zero idea what a parent is supposed to be like sort of makes that a little less complimentary."
But it didn't, Steve could tell. Danny had that pleased flush about him, and looked about two seconds away from preening. "It's still true," Steve said, holding Danny's gaze, wanting him to believe that Steve knew what he was talking about and that Danny was the father of the century.
Something in Danny's face shifted, and the glass in Steve's chest felt like it was being burned into nothingness by the heat rising there. "Steve," Danny said, "this is--"
The back door slammed, and they both started. Steve turned his head to see Catherine heading towards them. "Joan's the sweetest baby," she said, dropping down into her chair beside Steve. "She just drifted right off without a peep."
"Speaking of sweet babies," Danny said as he stood, "I have Grace tomorrow. So I'm off."
"I'll walk you out," Steve said.
Danny waved him off before he could even start to get up. "I know the way out of your house, McGarrett." He gave them both a smile. "Goodnight."
Steve echoed Catherine's goodnight, staring after Danny until long after the Camaro's engine had faded into the distance.
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END