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The hotel room had been silent ever since Steve collapsed in bed with a groan, when suddenly, “Hey, Danno?”
“Now what?” Danny had been seconds from falling back asleep and when Steve’s slightly slurred voice brought him back around, he had a feeling that he could kiss that night’s sleep goodbye.
“You should have come out tonight, man, we had a blast!”
“I can tell.” Danny was proud of the way he actually sounded a lot more patient than he felt. He was also proud that he didn’t scoff at the word Steve used to describe a good time.
“The girls were great!”
“I bet they were.” He had seen the smudges of lipstick all over Steve’s face and neck and did not want to know what his partner had been up to. He did not want to imagine what had him all chatty and loose-limbed.
There was the sound of some quick movements in the other bed and when Danny glanced over, he could tell, even in the dark room, that Steve was sitting up, propped up against the headboard. “Alyssa said it was a shame you didn’t join us.”
“Well, what can I say? Someone twisted my ankle.” It still ached even if the swelling wasn’t too bad any longer.
“It’s not my fault you’ve got weak ankles! I know of at least eight exercises you can do to make them stronger. I’ll show you some day.”
“Good night, Steven.” Danny turned his back to the other bed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.
“But you’ll have to remind me.” He sounded almost disappointed in himself.
“Steve? Good. Night.”
“Alyssa said - “
“Honestly don’t give a shit what some chick said. I need sleep.” He scooted down and tried to find a comfortable position.
“No, but listen!”
“What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?!” The lack of patience was now obvious, and Danny felt his pulse speeding up, taking him even further away from the land of dreams.
Steve was quiet. All that could be heard was his breathing.
Danna turned over and looked at his partner, feeling almost guilty for snapping at him. The silhouette looked upset, if that was even possible. “Alright, go ahead.”
“You going to listen to me or bite my head off?” he almost-whined.
“I’ll listen,” Danny promised, trying not to make it too obvious that he was grinning like an idiot. To have super SEAL Steve sounding just like a fatigue-frustrated Charlie was almost more than he could handle.
“Good.” Danny could imagine Steve’s satisfied grin. “Alyssa said she knew they had something special, the first day they met. Of course, she never said anything about it. They worked together, and she said that for the first time in her life, she looked forward to Mondays. When Karen eventually asked her out, she said it felt like that was what she’d been waiting for all along. Like she’d been the missing piece. You should have seen them. Together.”
Images of a sleep-flushed Steve clutching a blankie vanished as Danny once more refused to think about what his partner had been up to all evening. He recalled Steve’s nickname and shuddered internally. What was wrong with him? That surely wasn’t what he was talking about! “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, missing piece found, good.”
“It got me thinking.”
“I bet it did...” He couldn’t help it, he had to say it with heaps of innuendo. It was safer that way.
It sounded like Steve thumped the mattress with both hands in frustration. The bed creaked slightly. “No! Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!”
“That’s no gutter, that’s a multimillion-dollar business, my friend,” Danny replied, using his most annoyingly matter-of-fact voice.
Steve sighed hard, letting his head fall back against the headboard with a hollow thud. “Come on, Danny.”
“Fine. It got you thinking.”
“Yeah, it got me thinking. How did Karen know she’d be interested, that her making a move wouldn’t just ruin their working relationship?”
“You see, there’s this thing called communication...”
“No, I know! But how did she know Alyssa’d be receptive?”
“You should have just asked her.”
“I did ask!”
Trying his best not to sound too mocking, Danny asked, “You make your living questioning suspects but you couldn’t get Karen to tell you how she knew Alyssa’d want to go on a date?” Danny had to sit up too because despite everything, he was curious.
“I know!” Steve said. “She just said something about having a gut-feeling and trusting her instincts. Not very helpful.”
“Sounds like you, though.”
Steve made a strange sound and started coughing.
Danny kept the smile off his face for as long as possible. “The gut-feeling and trusting your instincts-part, you goof!” he said, releasing a grin after a few seconds. “You never asked a coworker out before?”
“No!”
“Right...” When he thought about it, that made a lot of sense. “I have and let me tell you, the first few days, they were really uncomfortable. I’d totally misread the signs. But after a while, we had a talk and decided that we were too professional to let my little crush get in the way of us doing our jobs.”
“Yeah, but that’s you.” That statement was said with what sounded like a soft smile.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny felt prickly, suspicious.
The same soft-smile-voice with a hint of why-am-I-telling-you-this-when-you-already-know carried on: “You’re a very likable guy.”
The suspicion carried over into the next question: “How much did you have to drink, anyway?”
There was no answer.
Danny decided to change tactics. “Remember the day we met?”
“Yeah?”
“I was ready to shoot you in the face!”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, but I did punch you.”
“Yes, I remember that. Good, strong punch, too.”
“That’s how likable I am. This, what we’ve got, it’s all on you, buddy. Hell, I yell at you almost every day!”
“Almost?” There was nothing but fondness to the question.
“Alright, every day. I’m a grumpy bastard. Just ask any of my old partners! There’s a reason I have so many...”
“No, you’re a great guy! Come on, Danno, you’re the best!”
Danny felt nearly claustrophobic at the sincerity emanating from the other bed and got up to limp the few steps to the bathroom. “When I’m done, I’m going to go back to sleep,” he said gruffly. “You’re free to stay awake if you wish, but please, for all that’s holy, let me get some rest. We’ve got another day of caring and sharing tomorrow, and I’m not going to risk actually going off on you in front of the group because you wouldn’t let me sleep.” He shut the door and sat down on the closed toilet.
Soon, there was a soft tap on the door and then Steve’s voice, asking, “Would you shoot me in the face if I did a Karen?” It sounded like he had his face pressed to the door, his voice slightly muffled.
Danny sat motionless as the question registered. “I don’t have my gun,” he answered evenly.
“But if you did, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t shoot you in the face, Steve.”
“So...?”
The vulnerable hope in that voice almost made Danny act impulsively against his better judgement.
Instead, he more or less pleaded, “Think things through, please? I won’t mention this again, unless you do. Okay, buddy?” What had Steve’s life been before if he saw what Danny dished out as something worth pursuing, something worth risking anything at all for?
There was only silence on the other side of the door.
“At least wait until you’re not drunk.” Danny had never really questioned his own sexual orientation, but he couldn’t deny that Steve’s line of thought was sort of intriguing, if also sort of terrifying.
He wanted to assume that the only reason for these thoughts was that Steve was slightly drunk. And, having spent the evening with a happy, gay couple, his alcohol-altered mind had concluded that to be happy, Steve needed to be part of a gay couple. Danny just happened to be the first person of the same sex he had reason to talk to after his misguided revelation. That was all it was. Danny was well aware of the many dates – all with women – Steve had been on, and equally aware that most of them had ended up in one bed or another.
There was another tap on the door and then the sound of feet retreating.
Feeling discombobulated, Danny took care of business and went back to bed. He felt a strange urge to apologize but held his peace and listened to Steve fall asleep.
If his ankle had been itself, he would have been out the room, roaming the premises all night to come to terms with what was happening in his head. He’d have visited the bar and found a woman in the mood for some fun. But as it was, too many new and foreign thoughts fought for center stage; thoughts that had never visited Danny’s mind before rushed in, tsunami-like, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
One thought that found the limelight was that of a teacher, from way back in high school, who had talked at length about paradigm shifts; things remained mostly the same, despite minor changes, until some innocuous event forced an irreversible shift and how that new way of seeing things became the norm.
Was that what had just happened? Was that why suddenly, when he looked over at the dark lump in the other bed, he saw something he thought he’d lost the day Rachel first mentioned the word divorce? A possible glimmer of hope for a future that didn’t have him growing old on his own, that wasn’t drenched in regret and loneliness. If so, then why was he scared? Shouldn’t he be jumping with joy?
Feeling dizzy from the speed of the new connections his mind was making, he got out of bed again, opened the screen door, and limped over to one of the two lounge chairs placed on the balcony. He took a seat and leaned back, staring up at the floor of the balcony above.
His freewheeling mind brought him back to the first time he had seen Steve unconscious and bleeding. It had affected him deeply, and he had promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep Steve – who had, more or less, still been a stranger to him at the time – from dying. Not that he wanted anyone to die, except for maybe a handful of criminals... But on a scale from heartbreaking to unacceptable, Steve’s potential death ranked almost as high as that of his children. The scale had been reworked after Matty’s death, but there were still three people in Danny’s life whose deaths would put him out of commission, no questions asked.
“What’s the matter with you? Get your shit together!” he hissed at himself when he felt his eyes begin sting and his throat tighten.
To settle himself, he thought of his kids. They were probably asleep in their beds, safe in Step-Stan's mansion. He’d take them out for ice cream when he got home. A smile relaxed his face and made his throat less tight. Maybe he’d ask Steve to come along, the kids would love that!
And there he was again, sneaking in.
What if Danny let him, what would happen then?
He gave it a go, letting his imagination do its thing:
Instead of three people eating ice cream, four. (You’re already there.)
Instead of three plates at the dinner table, four. (You’re already there.)
Instead of three stockings at Christmas, four. (You’re already there.)
Instead of dating around until someone worth getting to know pops up, spending quality time with someone he already knew and loved. (That’s not scary, is it?)
Instead of waking up next to a soft body with long hair and smooth legs, waking up next to a broad, muscley chest and hairy legs. (That’s not scary, is it?)
Instead of bringing yet another woman into his kids’ lives, explaining to them that Uncle Steve is there to stay. (That’s not scary, is it?)
Instead of silky lips and lingerie, stubble and probably ratty boxers. (Okay, that’s scary. But so was driving alone the first time and look who’s a great driver now!)
Sure, it would take some time getting used to, but it’d be fine. It’d be better than fine. It’d be great! He was too old to fear the unknown. Besides, Steve McGarrett was hardly the unknown.
He levered himself out of the chair and slipped inside. Gone was the panic, replaced by something that felt like tentative hope. He almost wanted to wake Steve and tell him about his epiphany. At best, they’d be set for life. At worst, he’d have to resign from Five-0 and lick his wounds in private. He’d hate to lose Steve as a friend and partner. He would never recover. But, for once in his life, he was not going to let his anxiety get the best of him.
Besides, it was probably all going to look silly in the light of day. Once Steve was sober, he would never mention it again.
The next morning over breakfast – watching Steve advance on a continental breakfast was like watching him take down a ring of drug-runners – Danny kept waiting. His partner didn’t look hung over and wasn’t acting any differently than normally.
“How are we feeling today?” he asked, waiting patiently for Steve to down his second plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.
“What?” Steve asked, not bothering to swallow his mouthful of food. “I feel good. You feel good?”
Looking away in disgust – how could Danny ever have imagined going on a date, much less spending the rest of his life, with someone totally without table manners? – Danny took a sip of his coffee.
“What?”
“You know what? I take it back. I take it all back. Calling you a Neanderthal, it’s an insult to Neanderthals everywhere. You’re, you’re... Remember those pigs that ate Professor Thomas? I’d rather have breakfast with them!”
Steve looked at Danny, widened his eyes and grinned like a maniac, showing off all the partially chewed food still in his mouth. “I love you, too, buddy!” he said, scoffing at the look of horror on Danny’s face.
Danny pushed his plate to the side, his appetite gone.
By the time therapist-Loraine had signed off on their completed sessions, a headache was threatening to make the trip home a pain in the ass for Danny. He needed food, and fast. Of course, Steve was nowhere to be found. Clenching his fists and saying a few choice words, he made his way to one of the resort’s many restaurants. He took a seat, ordered a late lunch, and realized that he was in stereo pain. Ankle and head throbbed in perfect harmony, and he hated it.
He had just found the perfect position for his foot, raised and angled just so, when his food arrived. He took one bite of the over-priced burger, ready to be disappointed. He was not. Then Steve appeared, and his mood improved further, and when he said, “What’s up, good-lookin?”, Danny felt unfamiliar butterflies in his stomach. He shook it off, and when Steve insulted his poor ankle, he could have kicked himself for getting all hot and bothered. To ground himself, he let Steve know why he wasn’t a big fan of couple’s therapy, and just as he was about to start digging his own grave, Steve changed the subject.
“Where’s my burger? I’m starving, man!”
This was easy, this he could do. “Here, have half of this.”
With a dramatic flair, that did not include swooning but could have, in another setting, Steve complained, “I feel my stomach eating itself.”
Danny bit back a grin but did roll his eyes. “I’ll eat your other half. Have that one.” He motioned for the half that he hadn’t got to yet.
A smile that could light up a dark and gloomy room crossed Steve’s face. “All right, thanks, pal,” he said and grabbed the offered food. He took a bite and made a sound that almost had Danny blushing.
“It’s good, huh?” he asked, easily matching Steve’s energy.
“This is the best hamburger I ever had in my life.”
For some reason, Danny took it as a compliment. “Worth the 25 bucks.”
Steve continued on his burger, showing it way more respect than he had shown the poor breakfast buffet earlier. “It’s unbelievable. This place really has everything.”
Danny grinned, then thought of something that he thought Steve would get a kick out of. “I used that artisanal soap. Forget about it. Unbelievable. Unb...”
“What’d I tell you?” Steve interrupted, like he was behind the idea of artisanal soap in the first place.
“My hands have never been so soft, not in my entire life.” It was true. He had kept wringing his hands all day because he just couldn’t believe that they could feel that smooth. He was definitely buying a year’s worth of soap before they headed to the airport.
“Can I feel?”
Danny prided himself for thinking on his feet, and he congratulated himself on not being stumped at Steve’s request. Instead, he held out his hand, cool as a cucumber. “Yeah, feel this. Huh? Crazy, right? Right? Feel.”
Steve rubbed his hand, a look of something close to awe on his face. “Oh, that is nice.”
“So, really g-give it a rub.” Danny wanted to ask what Steve had expected. Sure, he used a cheapish two-in-one in the shower, but more times than not, he used conditioner for his hair. He had also been known to moisturize, both hands and full body. Did he really look like a walking piece of sandpaper?
Steve kept rubbing his hand, fully focused. “That is so soft.”
Danny was slightly surprised to find that he was sort of rubbing the back of Steve’s hand with his thumb. He hadn’t meant to do it; it had just happened, and he didn’t want to stop. “Feel up in here, too. Everything.”
Steve reached over with his other hand and started stroking his arm, hand still held securely in a grip that did not want to let the moment pass. “You washed your arms?”
“Like that?” Proud that his voice didn’t come out in an undignified croak, Danny let himself soak up the sensation.
Looking intently at Danny, holding his gaze for longer than strictly necessary, Steve said, “That’s like the... like... That’s a doctor. You’re like a surgeon.”
“Like, the fur is now like, um, it’s like down. It’s like down fur.” Danny sent a quick prayer that the blush working its way up his neck was hidden by his tan. Back home, they always made fun of how pink he could turn. He had inherited his mother’s complexion but not her ability to keep from turning red, a fact his siblings had found hilarious growing up.
“It’s like, it’s like the pillows!”
“Don’t get me started on the pillows! This trip, it’s going to ruin me.” Reluctantly, he leaned back. He needed some more space, or certain parts of his body would start reacting to being petted.
“Me, too. You think the governor would cover new pillows as a work expense?” Steve joked, leaning back in his chair, too. He still held on to Danny’s hand, letting his fingers play over his skin.
“You could always ask, try to really sell it.” Danny’s thumb was still stroking Steve’s knuckles, and his arm missed the warmth of his hand. Guilt whispered in his ear, reminding him of a pretty, blond thing at home. “Maybe have Max write a report on the importance of personalized pillows...?”
The waiter appeared with Steve’s burger, silently setting it down between them and giving Danny a wink. He almost called after him to ask what was up but was distracted by finding his hand released. “Half of that’s mine,” he said, anything to distract himself.
“Of course, man,” Steve said, pushing the plate to Danny. He took a great big bite and made the same borderline rude noise.
Danny also took a bite but did not make a sound. They ate in silence until the second plate was empty, too.
“When do we check out?” Danny asked, though he already knew the answer. He needed to fill the air between them before the butterflies returned to his stomach. Talking about everyday stuff ought to work as a pesticide.
Steve gave him an odd look. “Tomorrow afternoon?”
Confused, Danny just looked at him.
“I... I hope you don’t mind, but I extended our stay by another day.”
Confusion reigned.
“I feel like shit about your ankle, okay?”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, and I thought, another day to rest it in a place with hot springs and all kinds of treatments, why not? I’ll make the paperwork look like worker’s comp.”
“But you’re not hurt.”
“I’ve got to keep an eye on my partner, you know, to make sure he’s doing okay.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you. I feel bad, though, forcing you to spend an extra day here.”
Steve smiled sweetly at him and grabbed his hand, using both of his. “Anything for you, pal, anything for you.”
Danny pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Okay, I’m okay with another day here.”
“Great! I already texted Gracie that you’d be home tomorrow.”
“You contacted my daughter behind my back?”
Steve shrugged, giving his hand a squeeze. Suddenly, he looked uncomfortable.
“Everything alright?” Danny asked, trying to pull free. He scanned the area, looking for any obvious threat that could have Steve concerned.
Swallowing almost nervously, Steve said, “Yeah, I’m good. Also, not drunk.”
Widening his eyes, trying hard to understand what that had to do with anything, Danny just stared.
“Not drunk,” Steve repeated. “And you’re not armed.”
“Did you just have a stroke? Does your head hurt? You feeling numb, tingly, anywhere?” Danny’s pulse was racing, and he tried to free himself. He needed to call for help.
Steve gave him a serious look. “I’m not having a stroke, calm down. Remember yesterday? Last night?”
Suddenly, Danny sagged, laughing out loud with relief. “You’re asking me out?” he asked quietly, placing his free hand on top of the tangle of hands already on the table. “You scared me half to death; you know that right?!”
Steve’s face was a shade brighter than it normally was, and his smile looked unsure. “Sorry,” he said, and Danny was suddenly torn between giving Steve a hug and giving him hell.
“Right. Eh...”
“I made reservations for dinner, and I talked to the dolphin-folks. If you’re up for it, we’ve got a date with Flipper in twenty minutes.”
“Whoa, moving kind of fast there, Smooth dog!” Danny grinned. “You’re already bringing in a third party? I’m not enough for you?” The butterflies were immune to pesticides and Danny didn’t care. Shocked, he found himself laughing out loud once more.
Steve seemed to relax greatly, and he lifted Danny’s captured hand to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. “You’re too much for me,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on Danny’s.
Danny felt the insects fighting to break free. “That... That’s a very strange thing to say. But thanks, I guess?”
Steve loosened his grip on Danny’s hand, turning it over and straightening out Danny’s fingers. He kissed the palm, then looked up into his eyes again. Before he could say anything, Danny interrupted. “Look, before, well, before. I just have to ask: what’s the status of your underwear?”
Steve’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair, and he was lost for words.
“No, not like that. Yuck! What’s the matter with you? I mean, are they in good shape? Or are they, uhm, threadbare?”
“Williams, I do not put out on the first date.”
“You’re a liar, McGarrett, but me neither. Well, in theory, me neither. But this is important, okay? This,” he motioned vividly for everything that surrounded and included the two of them, “this is all new to me, and I think that if I see, like, a pair of ratty boxers, I’m going to lose it.”
Steve recaptured Danny’s hand and threaded their fingers together, sweaty palm to sweaty palm. “They’re on good shape, okay?”
Letting out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, Danny flexed his hand and said, “All right, then. Let’s do this.”
-- The end --