let's be honest, I've never met a cliche I didn't like

[angelgazing]

Because there is no such thing as too much of a good thing, especially if you live in paradise:

The Hawaii Five-0 Cliche Meme

Fake boyfriends, accidental marriages, and amnesia, OH MY!

Whatever your poison, whatever you favorite cliche, it's open and allowed here. Want to see Steve and Danny make out for cover and discover their ~true feelings? What about when they have to pretend to be boyfriends to keep cover? When they're forced to share a bed all ~platonic-like for weeks and keep waking up cuddling and then can't sleep without each other? Maybe Grace playing matchmaker? The one where everyone but them realizes they're married? Danny gets de-aged to six and Steve has to take care of him? Steve gets magicked into a tiny, angry kitten and/or dragon? They one where they must cuddle for warmth to survive?

Maybe that isn't your flavor. Maybe you want the one where Kono is a punk rock princess that keeps getting into trouble? Or where Chin loses his memory and thinks he's back on the HPD force. Maybe the one where Kono is secretly a criminal mastermind, working the team from the inside. Or where she has the chance return to her pro surfing career and must choose. How about one where Chin goes on an epic road trip?

There is no bad cliche! Whatever your favorite, I promise I want to read/see it, too.

The Rules

♥ Every cliche welcome!
♥ All pairings, ratings, mediums, and genres can be included!
♥ Any word count works!
♥ Have fun and be kind. ♥♥♥

Comment and share the love! ♥

Comments

Okay, I am not fast enough to have something already, BUT HERE IS A SNIPPET FROM A FIC I'M WRITING:

[gyzym.livejournal.com]

"Oh my god," says Danny on Monday morning, waiting around on their red-eye flight. "You're not actually wearing that, are you?"

Steve, who is dressed chino slacks and a Northface with the tags still on it, scowls at him. "Okay, okay, get it out of your system, go on."

"Do I have the wrong flight information?" Danny says, making a show of looking his ticket over. "Because, see, this ticket you gave me says we're going to New York, and that calendar over there says it's January, but you look like you're planning on parking it in San Francisco. Am I missing something?"

"This isn't actually my first time off this island," Steve says. "I have, in fact, been to places with cooler climates. I think I'm capable of judging how much outerwear I need."

"You get cold in movie theaters, sunshine."

"Awww," says a woman walking by, nudging her friend and pointing at them. "Aren't they adorable?"

Steve makes the "this is why we can't have nice things" face, which is a cross between a glare and that thing he does sometimes where the vein pops out of the side of his head. Danny just laughs, putting his hands in the air in surrender.

"Fine," he says. "You want to go like that, be my guest. My parka and I will be very happy together, don't come whining when you realize I was right."

"You're in a good mood this morning," Steve observes. "I hate that."

Lucky for Steve, Danny's good mood--borne out of coffee and the sight of Steve in something made of fleece--evaporates when they get on the plane. He'd kind of thought the sheer buoying joy of getting to go to New York would mitigate his…flying…thing, but he's in the habit of underestimating the depth of various psychoses lately. He tries to distract himself by figuring out when, exactly, Steve will realize that the tags are still on his jacket, but his heart isn't in it.

"You're twitching," Steve says, five minutes before takeoff.

"You're hallucinating," Danny returns, and then curses himself, because knee-jerk defensiveness will only pique Steve's interest further. "It's a muscle spasm."

Steve makes a doubtful noise but shuts up, and Danny knows better than to believe that's the end of it, but allows himself to hope anyway. He shouldn't; the plane starts taxiing down the runway a minute later, and his grip on the armrest goes white-knuckled before he can help himself.

"Oh my god, you're afraid of flying," Steve says, like he's solved some kind of hysterical puzzle. "You are, aren't you, that's why you got all quiet during boarding--"

"I am not afraid of flying," Danny spits, which is only mostly a lie. "I am disinclined towards it for perfectly legitimate reasons that have nothing at all to do with fear."

"But you've been up in the chopper with me," Steve says, frowning. "And you've never seemed--well, not more freaked out than usual, anyway."

"Well, that's it, isn't it," Danny says. "Doesn't matter where I am if you're driving."

Steve's face goes from shocked to thrilled to smug in a split second, which is how long it takes Danny to realize what, exactly, he's implied.

"No," he corrects hastily, "no, not because--because if you're driving I'm probably going to die regardless, not because of any--oh, god, stop making that face, I hate that face, I think I'm going to be sick."

"So Danno don't fly," Steve says, still looking like the cat who got the canary and the parakeet and possibly also the macaw, "and Danno don't surf. What, exactly, does Danno do?"

"Danno does land," Danny snaps, and turns to glare out the window.

He should really expect it, when Steve's hand settles in at the back of his neck. Steve does things like this--he's a crazy homicidal maniac, he's more or less the Swiss Army knife of efficient murder, there are days Danny thinks he's actively harming society by not having him committed…but. But he's sweet too, in odd ways and certain places, like how he presses kisses against Danny's shoulderblade before he gets up to shower and tears up at ASPCA commercials.

So Danny should expect it, but he's surprised anyway at the warm press of Steve's fingers, the way he rubs his thumb in circles up into Danny's hair. He stiffens and then relaxes, calmer despite himself.

Steve doesn't move away until well after takeoff.

[zolac-no-miko.livejournal.com]

D'aaaawwww~!

[chaoticallyclev.livejournal.com]

Okay, you get to pick, snippet from a Sleepless in Seattle AU?
OR what amounts to a crap ton of dialogue around the scenario of Steve being invited to Grace's parent-teacher conference ecause the school is nosy like cyrano de bergerac?

:D?

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

OH GOD SUCH A HARD CHOICE. D:

Uh, uh, uh, THAT PARENT-TEACHER CONFERENCE. One of my favorite tropes ever!

So Real Lying Here 1/?

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

Danny lost track of the amount of weird shit he'd seen when he was still working his first beat back in Jersey. There'd been a time when he was young and dumb enough to say that he'd seen it all. He hadn't seen a fraction of it, and Danny wasn't even close to the level of idiot it'd take for him to try and make the same claim now.

Still. Still. Danny looked down at Steve on the floor, and blinked hard. "You bleeding?" he asked, his voice kept carefully even.

Steve, the idiot, shook his head, maybe a little dazed as he said, "That's your don't-fight-in-front-of-Grace voice." He at least had enough of a clue to sound a little bit worried. A little bit.

Danny laughed, harsh and uncontrollable and maybe just a little hysterical. This was so far beyond a crack den of coffin dwelling vampire-wannabe teenagers that Danny was almost sure it had happened in another life. "I hate to be a nag, I do—sometimes, Steve, swear to god, I sound so much like my mother I've got to check my six to make sure she isn't there. I have to make sure my mother isn't speaking for me, Steven, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Like an asshole," Steve said, because he would never lower himself to guessing, oh no, not that. Steve McGarrett didn't guess, he mocked the law until he was handed the truth in a gift wrapped package. It was no wonder Danny hadn't managed to train him out of his stupid habits; they kept getting him results.

"No, no, you want to talk about asshole behavior, we'll talk about Things Assholes Do. One, assholes kick doors down before getting a warrant." Danny waved his hands, too worked up already to rein them in, his volume reaching levels that would probably draw the entire block out of their homes in a slightly better neighborhood. "Two, assholes touch potential evidence of Mad Science-ry. Three, assholes insist they know what they are doing when, in fact, they do not."

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again quickly when Danny crouched down to wave four fingers in front of his face angrily.

"Four," Danny said, with the edges clipped and sharp enough to make better men than Steve take a step back. Steve didn't. "Assholes don't listen when their smarter and more rational partner says, 'don't play with the thing labeled shrink ray.'"

"I had it under control!" Steve insisted, because he always knew exactly the wrong thing to say.

"I told you!" Danny poked him in the chest, not, despite the look of betrayal Steve leveled at him, all that hard. It just doesn't take a lot of pressure to knock someone on their ass when they're a whopping twelve inches tall. "I told you not to play with it, no matter how much it looked like a fun new toy for you to threaten and maim suspects with. I told you."

"Are you done?" Steve asked, looking ready to take a tiny, ineffectual swing at Danny. "Aren't mad scientists supposed to live in cold, damp places? Like Jersey. There was no reason to suspect anything on this island was a shrink ray."

"First of all," Danny said, pointing at Steve again, dangerously close to another shove. He spent enough time with an eight year old girl to know exactly how easy it would be to do some damage to a fucking Ken doll. "First of all, no. No, leaving aside the fact that everyone on this island is insane—leaving aside the slurs on my homeland, and the fact that I never once had to deal with my partner suddenly becoming a live action GI Joe back in Jersey—you could absolutely tell there was reason to suspect it was a goddamn shrink ray, since it was clearly labeled. Say what you will about the man's mental state, at least he's well organized."

"GI Joe is Army, Danny. Army."

Danny stood from his crouch with an unpleasant pop of his knee and a twist in his gut. "Keep it up," he said, as threatening as he knew how to be with a Steve who couldn't fight back. He scooped Steve up without letting himself think about it, and ignored Steve's struggle against his grip. "Keep it up, I'll let Gracie babysit you while we figure this out. She's got a Barbie dream house that'd be perfect."

"You wouldn't dare," Steve says. "I won't be tiny forever."

Danny snorted. It was easier than thinking of the alternative.

Re: So Real Lying Here 1/?

[aredblush.livejournal.com]

BB'S FIRST WIP :DDD *claps hands in glee*

I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS AND EVERYTHING IT CHOOSES TO BE! ALSO, YOU! ♥♥♥

The one where Danny can't sleep without Steve, 1/5

[sirona-gs.livejournal.com]

Oh my god, how happy does this post make me?? ♥ My poison of choice is... enforced bed sharing! After a fashion... XD


And it had started so well, Danny thinks darkly as he's driving the last of the pegs into the soft soil. A weekend with Gracie that fell on the day after her birthday -- what a fortuitous set of circumstances. Naturally, he would do anything she asked of him -- and she knew it, too, the devious little monkey. She's a Williams through and through, Danny had thought with a surge of pride warring with the mounting irritation and apprehension that her simple "I want to go camping, Daddy!" had brought forth.

Because how do you refuse the light of your life when she says she wants the whole Five-0 team to go camping together? Danny would rather chew off his own arm than suggest that his co-workers might have something better to do than go camping with his eight-year-old daughter -- one, because to Danny such a thought is insurmountable; and two, because Grace is at an age where any implied rejection could have lasting consequences, and Danny would hog-tie the lot of them together and kidnap them in his Camaro before he'd let her think like that.

He shouldn't have worried; the delighted twinkle in Kono's eyes when he'd brought it up should have raised a few flags, though. Sneaking up on Danny's blind spot where it came to Gracie, shame on her!

Kono smiles sunnily at him from where she and Chin are finishing putting up hers and Grace's tent. She's finding the whole thing hilarious.

"You done yet, Danno? Need any help?" says the bane of his existence, hauling in their sleeping bags and overnight duffels from the car. Danny can hear the grin in his voice without turning to look.

"No, I do not need any help, Steven, thank you for asking," Danny snaps, straightening up at last and turning around, rubbing at the tightness in his back from the long drive down a number of dirt tracks.

Steve's grin fades around the edges. Danny feels like a prick. "You okay, Danny? Is your back bothering you?"

"Oh, the back you made me pull when you blew up that warehouse on Tuesday, that back? Yeah, it's bothering me a bit. Don't even think about it!" he goes on, as Steve takes a couple of quick steps towards him. "I don't want Grace to know," he finishes quietly.

Steve's brow furrows into his Aneurysm face, and Danny would feel proud to have prodded it into existence if it wasn't for the fact that he had to share the tent with the hulking giant. He bets that was Kono's plan all along, confirmed as soon as Grace's face lit up at the suggestion that morning when they set off.

Chin likes to sleep under the stars, like the hardcore seasoned camper he is. Danny's surprised that Steve hasn't taken a leaf out of his book; God knows the outdoors freak's enjoying himself a bit too much.

"Daddy, daddy, come look at our tent!" yells Grace, poking a messy-haired head through the flap. Danny doesn't bother fighting the beam that he knows is all over his face as he makes his way to her.

---

Danny hates camping, though he'd never utter a word about it in Grace's hearing. He hates the sound of insects buzzing around the lantern, hates the hard ground he's spread his sleeping bag over, hates the smell of smoke coming from the requisite camp fire, hates the sounds of the jungle at nighttime that wake him up every twenty minutes.

The rest of them, of course, are having the time of their lives. There's marshmallows over the fire, hot chocolate made in a sturdy pot, hot dogs for all, and the surprise of Chin's guitar brought out from the jeep's back seat. Grace's sweet voice carries through the air, joined by Kono's light soprano and Chin's shockingly deep baritone. Danny watches them, heart full to bursting.

He doesn't join in, because he doesn't want to scare off every animal or bird in the vicinity and cause a stampede -- but Steve does, eventually, with a little glance at Danny that Danny wonders how Steve expects he wouldn't notice. Steve's voice is more husky than resonant, but it's lovely; it makes Danny think of fireplaces and snow and a glass of single-malt Laphroaig shared with his dad. He closes his eyes and basks, just for a moment.

---

Re: The one where Danny can't sleep without Steve, 2/5

[sirona-gs.livejournal.com]

It's a really long time before he can make himself fall asleep that night. The tent is small, and he can feel every movement Steve makes, every huff of air he lets out in his sleep. It's more peaceful than Danny had expected, granted, but in certain ways it's worse, too. Steve's proximity makes him think of things he'd thought he'd pushed away, things he can't keep feeling towards his partner -- the need to reach over and snuggle into a warm body, the body of someone he trusts unconditionally to keep him safe; to have someone's (Steve's, his mind whispers) soft breathing teasing the back of his neck, to feel every inhalation, every thump of a steady heartbeat against his back. So he likes to be the little spoon. So sue him. Problem is, Steve brings it out of him more than anyone he's ever known.

Eventually, he drifts off, somewhere between one wistful thought and the next.

---

Some time later, when the sudden warmth soothes his restless shifting, he settles down with a content sigh.

---

There's something heavy pinning him down through the middle of his body. He's still so warm and happy, though, that he doesn't snap awake like he usually does. A puff of air shifts the hairs at his nape, and the something at his waist pulls him backwards, plastered against a strong chest. Danny reaches out with his senses, checking for danger, and finds none. The smell is familiar, comforting, soothing, Steve, but stronger, deeper. Like maybe what Steve's skin would smell like when he's asleep.

Danny has never been at his sharpest in the mornings; that's why it takes him a full five minutes to work out just why he feels so comfortable

"Oh my god." He blinks a couple of times, and looks down in disbelief. Yep, it's right where he expects it -- Steve's arm heavy over his middle, fingers curled in, touching Danny's body through the unzipped sleeping bag.

Steve makes an unhappy sound when Danny pushes it off, and presses in closer against his back, slinging his arm right back where it was.

And Danny? Would be really happy to stay just like this, for a really damn long time -- which is the thought that finally makes him snap to full awareness.

He's maybe a second too late. The flap of the tent peels open and Grace bundles inside, falling over Danny's legs with a thump and climbing up his body like the monkey she is.

"Wake up, Danno!" she chirps happily. "Uncle Chin is making scrambled eggs and bacon!"

Danny feels the warmth at his back freeze before moving off as if scalded.

"Good morning, Steve!" Grace says, on her best behaviour.

"Good morning, Gracie," Steve rasps, rubbing at one eye and throwing Danny a questioning look out of the other.

Danny can't get out of the tent fast enough.

---

It's only when they're half-way out of the jungle and Danny is determinedly Not Talking About It, and doggedly ignoring the little glances Steve keeps sending his way, that he realises that it's the best sleep he's had in... Well. Since Grace was still a happy bundle of a four-year-old, curling up to nap with her Daddy. He can't speak for a full twenty minutes from the shock -- it lasts until Steve takes a sharp turn around a parked truck. Danny's relief at being able to yell at him about something carries him all the way back to his flat.

---

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

DOES A STUPID REGENCY AU COUNT??

[hermette.livejournal.com]

YES.

In which Danny and Steve share a bed because it's essential to the motherfucking plot

[hermette.livejournal.com]

I started this as a gift for foxxcub ages ago, and can't seem to finish it, so I'm posting it here in hopes that I'll get shamed into finishing it, or that someone else will take up the mantle. Round robin fic, what.

The way Steve sees it, this could go one of two ways, and Danny is already staring down at the bed in a muted sort of outrage. Steve can tell, though, by the clench of his hands that he's building up a good head of steam, and while watching Danny completely lose his shit is always a good time, it's late and they're going on hour thirty-seven of the worst travel experience of all time and Steve is completely done.

"First shower," he says, dropping his bags to the floor and disappearing into the bathroom without another word, leaving Danny to work out his frustrations over being forced to share a bed by himself. He showers quickly with the cheap hotel soap and then wraps a towel around his waist and goes back out into the room, finds Danny sitting on the bed with a pillow under his knee. There are candy bars and bags of chips piled beside him on the bed, and two cans of Sprite are dripping condensation onto the cheap bedside table.

"This is dinner?" Steve says.

"It's what passes for," Danny tells him. "At two in the morning in where the fuck ever we are."

"Any time you want to stop acting like this is my fault —"

"Did I say that? When did I say that? I don't remember saying this was your fault."

"The passive aggressive —"

"I am tired," Danny says, holding up a half-eaten Snickers and pointing it at Steve, sending a peanut flying across the room. "And I am hungry. And I'm frankly a little surprised that these clothes aren't walking around by themselves right now so —"

"Well, you haven't changed in nearly two days, so —"

"Could you just not?" Danny barrels on. "Could you just — could you just eat a bag of fucking Doritos and go to sleep, huh? You think you could do that for me, McGarrett?"

"Are you gonna shower?"

"Steven, I swear to God, I will shove this Snickers bar so far up your ass."

"I'm just saying, if we have to share a bed —"

"So far up your ass—"

Steve holds up a hand and turns, finds his bag in the pile he dumped by the door and digs a t-shirt and a pair of boxers out of it. He pauses, and then pulls out a pair of running pants out as well. Having to share a bed with Danny is one thing, but he's having a hard enough time these days controlling his body around Danny while he's awake, let alone while he's sleeping, and the last thing Steve needs on this case is to accidentally rub one off on his partner while he's sleeping.

Re: In which Danny and Steve share a bed because it's essential to the motherfucking plot

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

Oh my goddd more more more please. Pretty please? CONSIDER THIS ME SHAMING YOU, OKAY?

[aredblush.livejournal.com]

A-hem... Our lovely host assures me that hammock-sharing is a cliche. If you disagree... where are your manners? Never disagree with the host!



Also, let's have a caption party! What are they saying to each other?

[ilovetakahana.livejournal.com]

"Danno don't surf, but what about hammocks?"

"If you ever let me up I swear you're going to have to start running, McGarrett, because I am going to take this out of your hide WITH INTEREST."

"Promise?"

"Oh shit."

[ciaimpala.livejournal.com]

I LOVE THIS!

-Steve thinks Danny is dead, but he isn't. Danny thinks Steve is dead, but he isn't. Angst than happy reunions ensue (seriously, my favorite cliche ever).

-Grace conspires with Kono to lock Danny and Steve in a room until they confess their love for each other.

-One of them gets seriously injured, and the other professes their love to them while they are in a hospital bed/coma.

-One of them gets shot, but is wearing a bulletproof vest. The other one still flips out.

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

OH MY GOD ALL OF THESE. ALL OF THEM. BUT ESPECIALLY THE ONE WHERE THEY GET LOCKED IN A CLOSET. HOW COULD I POSSIBLY FORGET THAT? LOCKED IN A CLOSET.

The Jackass: Danny's ex-boyfriend is in town and Steve gets jealous

[ariadne83]

(I started this months ago for bluespirit_star as part of a prompt meme but I ran out of motivation to finish it. Hopefully I can get kickstarted again)

The jackass's name is Pauly Melio, a buddy of Danny's from Jersey. He's visiting Hawaii with his wife and kids but that doesn't stop the guy from coming by Danny's shack uninvited in the middle of the night, drunk off his ass. The way he'd crashed around outside he's lucky Steve hadn't shot him. The familiar way Pauly The Jackass has his arm slung around Danny, Steve still might.

"S'not the same," he slurs, hauling Danny in close. "Miss you, Danny." Then he plants a sloppy kiss on Danny's neck, and that is it.

"OK, Mr. Handsy, you're done here," Steve grits out, prying the guy's grip off his... off of Danny.

Without something to hang on to he almost collapses onto the floor. Steve would be inclined to let him, except for how Danny's already glaring murderously at him, so instead he grabs The Jackass's shoulders and manhandles him over to a seat. "Stay."

"Enough with the caveman routine. You're embarrassing yourself," Danny snaps, stalking into his sorry excuse for a kitchen and setting the kettle to boil. "What, you think I'm gonna fall to my knees and blow him, right here in front of you?"

"Who, your old buddy?" Steve says pointedly. He is not the one peddling bullshit here.

Danny bangs around the kitchen, making coffee and muttering to himself. Steve keeps a sharp eye on Mr. Third Wheel, hoping the guy's not going to puke, or worse, cry.

"Danny," The Jackass whines. "Danny boy."

"Shut the hell up, Pauly. I'm busy, here."

He slumps down in his seat and finally the dick acknowledges that Steve’s in the room. He narrows his eyes and bobs his head, giving Steve a once-over. “You’re pretty.”

“He could snap you in half without breaking a sweat, you idiot,” Danny pipes up.

Steve’s momentarily appeased by the vote of confidence, so he just grins sharkishly. Pauly’s eyes bug out in fear and his mouth gapes open like a catfish (maybe the guy’s not a complete idiot) but Steve doesn’t get to enjoy it for long before Danny comes back and smacks him upside the head.

“Down, boy.”

After that there's an awkward, almost-completely silent standoff. The Jackass drinks his coffee, carefully avoiding making eye contact with Steve again; Steve keeps his eyes locked on him, ready to move if he puts his hands on Danny again; Danny hovers between them, muttering under his breath something about sleeping with fucking morons, and only leaves them unsupervised long enough to refill the Jackass's cup.

The Jackass 2/?

[ariadne83]

"Alright," Danny says sharply once the guy's put away most of the pot. "I am calling you a cab and we're going to forget this ever happened."

"I just wanted to talk to you," the Jackass complains, gesturing wide with his coffee cup and sloshing the dregs all over Danny's carpet.

Danny briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Jesus Christ, you're a fuckup."

The words are harsh but there’s an exasperated fondness in Danny’s voice that Steve doesn’t like one bit. He snatches the paper towels off the coffee table and goes over to scrub viciously at the fresh stain.

“You don’t have to do that, babe,” Danny says as he dials the cab company, offhand, like that’s something he’s said a hundred times. Steve’s caught between being irrationally pissed that he rates a generic pet name and inwardly gleeful that Danny used it in front of his… buddy.

Five minutes later Steve's thinking he should've stuck with "pissed." They're all outside, waiting for the cab, and Danny wants a moment alone with the Jackass. "Nope. Not happening."

"Steve, come on. For once in your life, don't be a dick. All I'm asking for is a minute. We don't even have to be out of your eyesight; just give me this. Please."

Damnit, that's playing dirty. Steve clenches his fists, fighting the urge to grab Danny by the T-shirt and haul him in for an obnoxious, possessive kiss. Danny would probably knock him on his ass and send him home. While Steve's not exactly crazy about Danny's shithole apartment it has one good thing going for it, namely Danny himself, and Steve can't get that any place else. Not when Danny has Grace coming over tomorrow and they’d spent a couple hours getting the shithole in something resembling good order.

Steve takes a deep breath and reminds himself that compromise makes Danny happy, and when Danny's happy he tends to be invested in making Steve happy. "Fine," he grits out, and heads up the path toward the road.

Danny starts ranting before Steve's gone more than a couple of feet, and Steve figures that means the plea for privacy was more of gesture than a literal request so he stops. Listens. Doesn't feel any guilt whatsoever.

"OK, first of all: never do this again or next time I'm calling HPD. I'm serious. What if I'd had Gracie with me? You would've scared the hell out of her."

"I'm sorry. I just..."

"I'm not done," Danny snaps. "Did I say I was done? No, I did not. Second: whatever you thought was gonna go down between us isn't happening. Ever again. Not just because I don't want your wife to give me another black eye. Not just because, frankly, you're a lunatic and I haven't missed your drama. But that guy over there who very kindly did not snap you in half is someone I care about, OK? And I would like very much for you not to fuck that up.”

There's a resounding silence after that. Steve's thinking about turning around to see what the Jackass is up to, but then the guy shoulders past him, knocking him off-balance. Steve grabs the Jackass’s arm, partly to bring him to a halt and partly because it’s either that or lash out and trip him. “Hey! Where’s the fire? The cab’s not here yet.”

The Jackass jerks out of Steve’s grip, knocking himself off-balance in the process so that he ends up falling on his ass. “Don’t touch me,” he says belatedly, and makes a pathetic attempt to push himself back up. Evidently he’s still more than half-cut.

“This is what I’m talking about. You act like you belong on a freaking soap opera,” Danny says, coming up behind Steve. He leans down, grabs the Jackass’s wrist and hauls him up, but then promptly lets go and puts a good three feet of space between them.

It’s just coincidence that that’s when the knot of tension in Steve’s right shoulder that’s been threatening to give him a headache eases up.

Sounds Like Love, Steve/Danny (1/?)

[elandrialore.livejournal.com]

"This is getting ridiculous," Danny says, exasperated. "I mean, seriously?" He looks around at the rest of his team who seem to be trying to remain as blank faced as possible. It's not working. "Seriously?"

Steve holds his hands out in a 'what can you do?' gesture and Danny throws his arms up in the air.

"Fine! Fine, whatever, just this time I get to drive."

Chin ducks his head quickly and Kono doesn't turn around fast enough to hide her smile and Steve just nods at him and says, "Whatever you say, Danny."

Danny scowls and says, "I hate you all," and then strides out of the bullpen yelling, "I'll pick you up at seven, McGarrett, wear a fucking suit."

"Well that went well," Chin says and Kono loses containment and excuses herself with a wave of her hand.

Steve runs a hand over his face and says, "I'll meet you back here in an hour. Apparently I've got to go dry clean my suit."

"You got it, boss," Chin says with a sloppy salute, and Steve heads out to his truck.

It's not that Steve doesn't get Danny's frustration. They've done this four times already, and that's probably four times too many for most people to get intimately acquainted with their partner, let alone Danny who'd rather yell at Steve than do pretty much anything else with him.

They're not the only ones who've had to go undercover as a couple. Danny and Kono did it once to distract Frank Salvo and his men, Danny and Chin ended up pressed together pretty intimately at a club for about an hour while they listened to a kidnapping deal go down, and Steve and Kono once had an incredibly awkward attempt at making out before they thankfully got to blow shit up.

But he and Danny must've screwed with fate somewhere along the line because they have had the absolute worst luck with this.

The first time was spur of the moment and didn't amount to more than Steve crowding Danny against a wall; Danny's breath hot on his neck as he related what their suspects were doing, Steve’s hand cupping his stubbled jaw, and Danny's hands dipping dangerously close to Steve's ass. It was pretty tame, comparatively, and Steve had been damn happy to get out of it without any real awkwardness on either side.

Obviously his hubris had come back to bite him in the ass on that one though, because the next time involved significantly less discretion, significantly more tongue, and a low, needy moan that Steve was prepared to go to his grave swearing that he hadn't made.

Danny had heard it though, jerking back abruptly, all wet, red mouth and shocked blue eyes.

"Danny," Steve remembered saying quite clearly, and what he meant was, I'm sorry, and, I didn't mean it, but what it sounded like was, More.

Then there had been voices over Steve's left shoulder and Danny had yanked Steve back down so hard that their mouths crashed together and then banged apart.

Steve didn't move them together again, just stood there breathing heavily into Danny's parted mouth as the two guys they'd been following moved off down the hallway. Steve had stepped back and pulled down his shirt from where it had ridden up from Danny's questing hands, and Danny hadn't been able to look at him for several hours after, which was good. It was good because that meant he probably hadn't spotted that Steve was half hard and not having any luck talking himself down from it.

Sounds Like Love, Steve/Danny (2/?)

[elandrialore.livejournal.com]

The third time was planned in advance, but it didn't cut down on the awkwardness at all.

"I don't like it," Steve said, "Kono's known down there, someone's going to recognize her."

"They probably won't recognize you," Kono said easily.

And Steve didn't get it until Danny froze right next to him and said, "You've got to be shitting me."

When he did get it, he tensed as well: one part of his mind screaming at him, Abort! Abort! and the other part figuring all the angles of how it could work. The professional side of him won, and he took a deep breath before turning to Danny and saying in the most neutral voice possible, "It could work."

Danny's eyebrows flew up and his eyes went wide and his hands started flailing as he said, "Are you insane?"

But Steve had gotten pretty good at reading Danny and knew when he was mostly bluster, and this time he was. Because yeah, it was going to be uncomfortable as hell, but this was their job and it was a good plan. So all he said was, "Danny," and what he sounded like was, We can do this, and, This is our job, but what he meant was, I promise I won't take advantage of you again.

He made good on his promise. He and Danny had walked hand in hand down the private stretch of beach owned by the hotel, eaten in all the restaurants with their heads bowed close together, and even danced one night, pressed body to body so they could keep an eye on the couple they suspected of murdering six people across two islands.

In fact, the only time things got tense was entirely Danny’s fault. They were at dinner on their first night there, and bickering about the case had turned to bickering about the awful crap that Danny sometimes ate, which led to Danny ordering the most sinfully rich dessert that he could find on the menu.

Which would have been fine until Danny fluttered his eyes closed, moaned, and said, “Oh, Jesus, Steve, this is amazing.”

Steve didn’t even think about it, just reached across the table to grab Danny’s hand, guiding the fork to his own mouth. It was rich and creamy and chocolately, and Steve might have been more impressed if he hadn’t caught Danny’s wide blue eyes and watched him swallow hard underneath the dark knot of his tie.

“S’good,” Steve said, licking his lips, and then there was a jangle of cutlery as Danny stood up abruptly and excused himself.

When he came back all he said was, “Let’s get out of here,” and didn’t mention his dessert, which still sat on the table mostly untouched.

Steve had to brush his teeth for five minutes before the bitter taste of chocolate disappeared.

But that wasn’t even the worst one, oh no. Because Steve had obviously fucked up hardcore in a past life, which meant in this one he had to pay and pay and pay.

How that fuckup translated into him having to go undercover as some sort of male escort, Steve would never know, but he ended up half undressed and collared at a high priced event where everyone but the entertainment was wearing thousands of dollars worth of clothes and jewelry.

It was going fine. Steve was pretty good at compartmentalizing and ignoring the staring and touching and he didn’t have to work very hard before he came up with a list of solid suspects. There was Guillermo near the bar who had hard eyes and at least two concealed weapons. There was Eleanor by the lounges who had a sparkling laugh and a vicious temper, and then there was Steve’s pick, Brady Waterston, who just felt wrong.

Steve had been making his way over to Waterston’s secluded corner of the room for the better part of an hour when Danny unexpectedly walked through the doorway in a what looked like a six thousand dollar suit and slicked back hair. He zeroed in on Steve almost immediately and strode over to him, and Steve’s urge to drag Danny into a dark corner and peel him out of his suit along was paired with the equally strong urge to demand what the hell was going on, because Danny showing up had not been in the plan.

“You’re with me,” Danny said, his voice clipped.

Not Trained for This

[perspi.livejournal.com]

Danny barely manages to get the phone off the end table before it vibrates itself to the floor, and he checks the call ID before he answers (after all, Grace still calls late at night, sometimes, it's their secret).

"This had better be important, McGarrett," he growls, because he saw what time it is, "or so help me--"

"I'm at headquarters," Steve says in the stage whisper he uses when he's infiltrating battleship museums, and Danny can feel adrenaline bringing him to full wakefulness, and a high, thin sound is droning in the background through the phone's speaker. "I need you over here ASAP."

"What's going on?" Danny asks even though he's already halfway to dressed.

"Bring baby formula," Steve says, and hangs up.

"What the fuck?" Danny asks his empty apartment.

--------------------

Danny arrives fully stocked, carrying a Walgreens bag loaded with formula, bottle, diapers, wipes--not the first time around the block for Danny Williams, oh, no. It doesn't surprise him to find Steve in his office, perched on the very edge of the couch, his back parade-stiff while he tries what he probably assumes is a soothing croon but in reality matches the unhappy wailing coming from the bundle he's got in his arms.

"What'd you do now?" Danny asks, stopping to let the doorway help keep him upright.

Steve looks up fast, and his face lights up like Danny's the best thing ever. "Christ, I'm glad to see you." He gets up off the couch and shoves the blanket-bundle at Danny's chest in one smooth movement. "Here."

Danny lets the bag rest against his feet so he can get both arms around the bundle and get a good look at the kid making so much noise--he's not much to look at, all wrinkled and red-faced like an angry old man. "Where did you--" and Danny waggles his eyebrows significantly, "--get a baby at two-thirty in the morning?"

Steve's got his hands on his hips, and if Danny didn't know any better, he'd say Steve looks almost...terrified. "I was leaving, I just got out to my truck and this girl came up to me, carrying this--" and Steve waves toward Danny, "--and she just gave it to me. She was saying 'safe, safe,' and she walked away."

"So, what, you think this is a safe haven thing?" Danny's already unconsciously started that little bounce-and-sway that always seemed to work with Rachel, but the little guy's got a good head of steam and he's truly angry now, so Danny nudges the bag toward Steve with his foot. Fortunately Steve catches on quick. "You get her name, anything?"

"I tried, but I don't think she spoke much English," Steve tells him while he's setting supplies out on his pristine desktop. "I didn't recognize the dialect, sorry."

"And rather than calling, oh, I don't know, the hospital, you called me," Danny grumbles. The little guy is starting to hiccup and snuffle, obviously getting tired from his irritation, and Danny hands him back to Steve, who takes him like Danny's just handed him a bomb.

"Um," Steve says, and Danny has had just about all he can take.

"Do you want to get his bottle ready?" Danny half-shouts, and Steve shakes his head no quite emphatically, so Danny feels fully justified in rearranging Steve's arms and posture until he is holding the infant in at least a minimally comfortable position, all the while muttering about how he's seen Steve face dozens of armed gunmen but apparently give him a baby and he turns to useless--

"She's a girl," Steve mutters right back, interrupting what was the beginning of a very satisfying tirade.

(TBC, but I need to go to bed for now...)

Re: Not Trained for This

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

OH MY GOD DANNY AND STEVE WITH A TINY CRYING BABY GIRL. STEVE CALLING DANNY INSTEAD OF CHILD SERVICES.

♥_____________♥

save face, Danny/Steve, fake boyfriends

[templemarker.livejournal.com]

Okay, this got too long for me to fuck with comments, so here's a ~relevant part. Read the rest here (http://templemarker.livejournal.com/25827.html)!

***

"Hi Danny," Steve said, and Danny rolled his eyes.

"Spit it out," he said. "Whatever it is, we're not high schoolers with dramatic secrets. You've been dancing around telling me something all day, so just suck it up, Army Ranger, and do it."

Steve's eyes narrowed. "The fucking Army—okay. Okay, I don't care about that, I'm going to let that go, but I wanted to ask you something."

Danny waved his hand in the air. "So…?"

"Funny you should mention high school," Steve said, sounding like he was chewing out the words, "because I just got my high school reunion notice in the mail, and I was wondering if you'd, uh. Go with me."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "The venerable Steve McGarrett goes to his high school reunion?"

Steve looked pained. "I'm obligated," he said. "I could always use being out of the state as an excuse, but this time Allie Han made me promise. She sicced her twin boys on me. It was bad—I didn't have any choice but to say yes."

"Torture by toddlers," Danny said. "I'm familiar. But why me? Why can't you just go by yourself, have a drink, shake a couple of hands, and exfiltrate from the roof?"

Steve hesitated, but then seemed to commit to going through with it. "There's this…woman." He sighed, and it sounded long-suffering. "Michelle. She, uh. Had a thing for me in high school. And she heard I was back in town, I guess someone put that link from the paper on Facebook or something, and she's been. Well."

"Trying to chase you up so she can tie you down," Danny supplied, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

Steve shifted uncomfortably and leaned against the doorframe. "Something like that. I just thought that—maybe if she thought I was taken, you know, unavailable—"

"Really unavailable," Danny said, with a grin.

Steve answered with a small smile of his own. "That's the idea," he said, blowing out a breath in one long rush. "So. What do you think?"

Danny pretended to give it a moment's thought, but he couldn't hold it, he just laughed and swung his bag over his shoulder, clapping Steve's back as he left his office. "Okay, McGarrett," he said, betting he looked just this shy of evil if Steve's vaguely panicked look was any indication. "I'll be your fake boyfriend for a night to save you from the Fury."

Re: save face, Danny/Steve, fake boyfriends

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING THIS FOR MEEEE. ♥♥♥

FAKE BOYFRIENDS! HIGH SCHOOL REUNION! DANNY BEING THE BEST PRETEND BOYFRIEND EVER! ♥

I have some suggestions for anyone to claim:

[bugchicklv.livejournal.com]

Sexual Healing (Hurt/Comfort)
Perfect First Time
Twu Wuv
Sex Pollen
Aliens (or something else) MADE THEM DO IT!
Hate/Fight!Sex
MPREG

Re: I have some suggestions for anyone to claim:

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

Seriously, seriously, where is the sex pollen fic?

tale as old as all this island bullshit. or, why Danny feels his hatred of coconuts is justified 1/?

[chaoticallyclev.livejournal.com]

Tale As Old As All This Island Bullshit. Or, Why Danny Feels His Hatred Of Coconuts Is Justified

~*~

Grace has a stack of fairy tale books taller than she is, and Danny’s never been one to deny his little girl anything, so he’s read all of them multiple times. He knows about the magic slippers and the poison apples and, the fairy tale fix-all, True Love’s kiss.

Trust him, all of that is pretty much burned into his brain. And if you really wanted to know his opinion, he blames shitty parenting for any of that every happening, but that’s beside the point. He knows all the fairytales; he just never thought any of them were, you know, real.

He’s still not sure that he believes it, and that’s in the face of smashed-open coconut leaking all over Steve’s kitchen floor, the gnarled finger shoved into Steve’s chest by the old woman who seems to have appeared out of thin air, and the promise of some sort of mystical sleeping fit until forever and a day or some other bullshit. Steve hits the deck after that. Well, he starts to, but his fall is halted halfway down and he fucking levitates to rest on the table, hands folded atop his stomach.

Then the old lady— witch, Danny corrects himself— disappears in a puff of smoke. A goddamn actual puff of curling purple smoke, for chrissakes. Danny is not cut out for this shit.

The first thing he does is call Kono. Okay, no that’s a lie. First, he checks Steve’s pulse— so, sue him, like he’s going to trust the word of some gnarled sea hag when it comes to his partner’s life, okay?

“Alright, okay, first of all, I just want it to be known that I am not the crazy one here, are we clear on that? I am the sensible, sane one, who upholds things like due process and doesn’t get old women popping up in my kitchen and magically whammying me into a hundred year long-sleep, or whatever bullshit fairytale we’re after here. That shit doesn’t happen to me.” Danny runs his hand through his hair, tugging at loose strands and completely destroying the grip of the gel he’d combed in so carefully this morning. This morning. Way back when he thought today was going to be—well, not normal, but at least normal for them. This? This was in no way normal.

“Danny, what are you talking about? Is everything okay?”

“No, nope. Nuh-uh. Everything is not okay. Our resident crazyass SEAL apparently pissed of the magical powers that be and reside in fucking mystical palm trees in the middle of nowhere. And, let me tell you, pissing off those particular powers leads to old women popping out of coconuts and said crazyass SEAL taking a nap on the kitchen table after some handwaving shit. And then the smoke! Purple, curling smoke. This doesn’t happen outside of Disney movies, Kono, it just doesn’t!”

“Okay, Danny, just—try to calm down. Chin and I will be there soon.” Kono’s tone is filled with more than a little disbelief underneath all the heavy sounds of worry. She probably thinks he’s fucking lost. Hell, maybe he has.

Danny sinks down onto one of the kitchen chairs and glares at Steve’s snoring body. “I blame you for all of this, just so we’re clear.”

Steve snores louder, probably just to spite Danny, the jerk.

~*~

tale as old as all this island bullshit. or, why Danny feels his hatred of coconuts is justified 2/?

[chaoticallyclev.livejournal.com]

The fact that the first words out of Kono’s mouth upon entering the house were, “Oh, fuck, you weren’t kidding!” doesn’t exactly lift Danny’s spirits.

Chin’s already crouching down next to the coconut pieces and examining them. Danny notes distantly that they are fucking glowing now, and he had no idea how me missed that, but whatever. It all seems pretty par for the course now.

“No, I was not fucking kidding.” Danny grumbles, tugging at his hair again.

Kono gives a quick shrug, apologetic with a hint of ‘can you blame me?’ woven in.

“So,” Chin says, “What exactly happened?”

Danny sighs heavily. “I don’t even know, honestly. It’s all smoke and pointing and then our, uh, little princess over there was out for the count.”

“Steve was cursed?” Kono asks. “Why would someone do that?”

“And why did they show up in a coconut?” Chin raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all very mysterious. The important thing here is that, we need to wake Sleeping Beauty over there up, and I am not crazy. Just tacking that on there.” Danny had been worried about that last point for a while, but now at least Chin and Kono have joined him on the afternoon express to crazy town, if nothing else.

Kono gnaws on her bottom lip for a second. “Well, have you tried anything to wake him up?”

“Have I tri—” Danny breaks off into a laugh. “No, I didn’t try to wake him up. Of course I tried to wake him up! He’s been slapped, splashed, and forced to sit through as much Springsteen as I had on my phone blasting into his ear at full volume. And none of it did shit. So, I’m out of ideas here.”

Chin and Kono exchange looks over Danny’s head, but he ignores them in favor of tightening his grip on Steve’s hand, which he doesn’t remember taking in the first place, but whatever. Today is just like that, he decides. Steve just goes on sleeping, letting out the odd snore here and there.

Oh, what the hell

[fatima-failte.livejournal.com]

Drag fic this way. (http://fatima-failte.livejournal.com/17394.html) Also a health soupcon of Kono working her evil magic and They Was Sekrutly Doing It All Along because I wanted to double (triple?) down.

I also have half a tentacle thing I'm noodling. I need help.

Re: Oh, what the hell

[angelgazing.livejournal.com]

Hahahaahha. No, no, no, you're doing just fine. No help needed. :D

[spazzer-mctwich.livejournal.com]

considering how awesome Alex is at playing disturbed serial killers I'm surprised there hasn't been any evil twin/doppelganger fic yet.

REC!

[ariadne83]

Random Acts of Gayness by waketosleep

(Umm, I don't know if recs are allowed or if the cliche-fest is supposed to be for new stories, but Danny's reaction to Nega-Steve is priceless)

[grimcognito.livejournal.com]

We see a lot of Steve being epic, but there needs to be more fics about Danny being a badass. I really want to see a story where Steve has to rely on Danny to save the day and for him to do so with an excess of shootouts, explosions and so forth. We've seen him go a little crazy (strapping informants to moving cars, punching leaks in the HPD, threatening guys who put his daughter in danger) and I want to see him completely toss his rulebook out the window and go on a manhunt.

I know I'm not the only one who wants to see it happen :D

[the-beccaroo.livejournal.com]

Seconded so freaking hard! I wanna see Danny bamfing it up. :D

Take me now but know the truth (1/3)-S/D-Adult

[iam-space.livejournal.com]

Going with the OMG YOU COULD HAVE DIED NOW WE HAVE SEXYTIEMS cliche. ;)

---

Danny'll never say it out loud, but it was truly like something out of the Matrix - time stretching, the buzz of bullets seeming to slow, vapor trails practically visible.

He saw Steve go down. Saw his partner's face transform from the SEAL-ninja-more-BAMF-than-anyone-else-on-(and-off)-the-planet type of focus into surprise, shock, pain. All things that should never be seen in the middle of a gunfight. Especially not on Steve.

And that's when Danny lost it. When all he wanted was to run to Steve and check him out and god dammit, hold him or kiss him or something completely fucked like that.

But no, he has scumbag assholes shooting at him, putting holes in his partner, trying to make Gracie fatherless.

And that just fucking won't do.

If he'd had a black duster and a pair of Ray Bans, the look would have been complete. Not that Danny cared. But he wiped the floor with the fuckers, picking up an extra gun on the way and firing two-handed, barrels flaring with fucking justified death. Mess with the bull...

---

It's all died down now and the near-silence is deafening. There are sirens in the distance, the cavalry always two minutes too late.

Danny looks down and sees that he has guns in both hands. Now-empty guns. What the ever living fuck?

And then he's dropping them and running to where he last saw his partner go down.

Fuck. Steve.

He finds him beside the shipping container they'd been rounding, flat on his back, unmoving.

Don't be dead. Don't be dead. Please.

Danny's heavy steps take him to his partner's side and he kneels, grabbing Steve's shoulders, not really shaking, but gripping, assessing.

"Steve!" His voice sounds raw, desperate. "Fuck, Steve, wake up!"

He finally reaches two fingers to Steve's neck, tensing and closing his eyes, focusing on finding a pulse. Anything else is unacceptable.

There.

And there.

Slow, but steady.

God, he chokes back a sob of relief and cups Steve's cheek in one hand. "Steve? Steve, if you don't wake up now, I swear to God I'll fucking kill you."

His eyes track down his partner's body, finally looking for injuries, blood. He sees a darkened blob-shaped hole in Steve's vest.

Right above his heart.

His fingers are visibly shaking as he reaches to touch, then pulls back, the area still warm to the touch.

So fucking close.

"Danny-? Wh'appened?"

Danny huffs out a breath and tries to wipe the blatant emotion he's feeling off his face. "You got shot."

"Hurts." Steve groans, trying to raise up.

"Whoa. HPD just pulled up, gonna have a bus check you out first." Danny presses on Steve's shoulder, trying to keep him still. "Now, what hurts, exactly?"

Steve catches Danny's eyes. "I'm fine, chest just feels sore. Head hurts a little. Probably from going down." He tries on a grin. "Can I get up now, Mom?"

"Mom? Mom. You are so lucky I don't punch you in your god damn smug-ass face, McGarrett."

Steve's raising up and rolling to his feet, seemingly with his wits about him again and adrenaline flowing copiously. "Been there, done that, still have the ugly ass t-shirt."

Danny's body is rigid, tense. "Fuck you. No. You don't get to do that. Just. Fuck." And then he's walking away, not sure what emotion is weighing the most heavily right now.

Anger? Relief?

Who's he kidding? He's fucking mad as hell.

He's just pretty damn sure that it's mostly at himself.

---

Take me now but know the truth (2/3)-S/D-Adult

[iam-space.livejournal.com]

Chin and Kono arrive at some point and Danny ignores their twin pointed looks when he charges them with making sure Steve gets checked out, while he ties up the loose ends of who's dead, who's injured, who got away. Then it's back to the office where paperwork tends to reproduce like it's a warren, and everything has to be triplicated, and fuck he needs a beer or twelve.

Danny's alone when Steve comes into HQ - it's late, and yet he's looking no worse for wear. Which is too god damn perfect. Man thinks he's fucking Superman, it's all in a day's work. And with him, it is. But one day, it's gonna...

Danny shakes that thought away and watches Steve stride closer.

He's holding his vest, gonna add it to the pile to be repaired. (And how sad is it that they have a fucking pile. How is this Danny Williams' life?)

But nothing in that pile is like this.

The others need to be cleaned, blood stains from a too-close graze or slice. Stitching repairs. Minor.

None of them need an entire new armor plate.

Before he knows what he's doing, before Steve can toss him an everything's-just-peachy smirk or say a damn word, Danny's voice rumbles low and raw across the office. "Put it on."

Steve raises his eyebrows and his jaw drops to say something.

"Put the god damn vest on." And Danny's up from the chair and across the room in three strides, mere inches between he and his partner, between his partner and the wall. "Or I'll put it on you myself."

"Dan-" but Steve's words are cut short by a menacing glare and a hand across his mouth.

Danny knows that if Steve really wanted to, he'd have him laid out on the floor in two seconds. And this time it'd be worse than just an arm twisted behind his back. But the fact that Steve allows himself to be backed against the wall and even makes the move of slipping his hand through the armhole of the vest - in the back of his mind, Danny acknowledges this as the go-ahead he needs.

This is going to god damn happen.

He uncovers Steve's mouth and steps back to let him pull the vest around him and up. Danny watches Steve's face the whole time, catching the slight wince of pain only from the tightening of his partner's mouth and crinkle at the edge of his eyes. Then it's gone.

Steve pulls the sides of the vest together, the velcro catching, not as tightly as protocol would demand though. Another sign of the pain in his chest.

Danny holds Steve's gaze for a moment. Steve's blue eyes are a deep dark cobalt, bordered in steel. There's no confusion there. Steve's starting to get pissed.

Good.

"I need you to know something." Danny begins, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like warm-up calisthenics for the gesticular eruption that's inevitable. And Danny's a bit fuzzy on his game plan for how he's gonna get there, but he knows exactly how this night is gonna end.

"Yeah, what's that? Danno." Steve's voice is tight, reined in, but not cold. Not resigned.

If anything, it's like he wants this. Wants Danny to go off on him.

Danny acknowledges this mental click and can't stop his slow-spreading smile, almost a grimace. His eyes trail over Steve: his arms hang loose at his side, palms open, fingers spread. His back is straight, stance emanating 'ready for anything'. His breathing is controlled, steady. Too steady. His lips. His lips are slightly parted and as Danny stares, one side quirks a bit and he sees Steve's tongue flick across the bottom row of his perfectly aligned teeth.

"God." Danny can't stop himself. "You're just waiting for it, aren't you?" he whispers. "You fucking want me to go off on you."

Steve's eyes narrow slightly as his smile curls upwards. "Never been able to stop you before. Why start now?"

And that's it. Danny's broken. And if it costs him everything, so be it. He'll work security somewhere or sell fucking shave ice on a corner, but this ends now.

Danny tells himself not to hesitate, it'll only make bad into worse. "I'm-" But then Steve licks his lower lip and Danny-- "Fuck Steve, I'm gonna kiss you now."

And he figures that's fair warning. With Steve's nanosecond reflexes, he could stop him if he really wanted. Danny's on his toes and Steve's mouth is under his, wet and warm and alive. So god damn alive.

MPREG 1/?

[ariadne83]

Hawaii, as far as Danny’s concerned, is weird central. Case in point being that Chin has just been placed on “extended medical leave” because no-one on the team wants the wrong people to find out he’s been knocked up by ‘friendly’ fairies, of the literal kind. Five-0 prevented a gang of drug smugglers from destroying their favorite section of forest, and this is how they chose to show their appreciation. Apparently they sensed Chin’s loneliness or something, but what Danny would like to know is: what the fuck? And also: what the hell would an unfriendly fairy have done?

Chin seems to be taking it well, although that could have something to do with the fact that Malia’s swept in and taken charge ever since he decided that no, he didn’t want the fairies (menehune, whatever) to perform a take-back.

Which, hey, good for Chin, but it’s making Danny’s life a daily torture. Because Steve, as always, is Steve, and apparently he figures anything Chin can do he can do better. Or something. Danny stopped listening to his logic a week ago

“I’m just saying, and I’m gonna keep saying it no matter how many times we have this little tête-à-tête: bad idea.”

“And I’m just saying I think you’re projecting.”

“Projecting? Projecting what, that I think you’re crazy enough as it is? That is not projecting, my friend, that is the god’s-honest truth.”

“Just because you couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean…”

“Hello, excuse me? Who here already has a kid, huh? Oh right: that would be me. I could handle it, thank you very much, but I choose not to. I already have Grace, and I figure I got lucky in the kid department. Why would I want to mess with that? Also, who’s supposed to keep things together around here if I’m knocked up?”

“So you agree, I’d be better at it,” Steve says, grinning triumphantly.

“No, I do not agree. I think you would suck.”

“Want to bet?”

Danny rolls his eyes, and then Kono walks in and suggests going out for drinks, and it seems like the whole thing is forgotten. Right up until about three weeks later, when Danny wanders into Steve’s house and finds him curled up on the bathroom floor, looking like death.

“Steven, what did you do?”

Re: MPREG 1/?

[mandalaya.livejournal.com]

Oh my sweet creamy butter, Chin is pregnant and now STEVE TOO? Because he's competitive? More please!!!

what kind of a closet locks? 1/2

[ityellsback.livejournal.com]

So I was lurking here because this is awesome, and then someone mentions stuck-in-a-closet!cliche
and I don't really write, but I just wrote 1000 words of Danny and Steve in a closet? Because it needed to be done. So even if it's not good, I. I will just leave it here. Uh. Yes.
____________________________________________________________________________

"I can not believe, I mean really not believe, that this is what my life is like now. Because what is this? What the fuck is this? This, THIS is your latest brilliance? Let me tell you, McGarrett, my old dog had better ideas than this! 'We can hide in the closet,' you say--"

To be fair, he had never said "We can hide in the closet." He had more manhandled the two of them in here in a desperate move to not be seen by the crazed gunman. Pointing this out would, however, probably only make Danny angrier. But tuning out Danny Williams is a kind of art form, and Steve is getting rather good at it. There is, after all, a task at hand. Namely, getting out of the closet that oh-so-conveniently locked behind them. What kind of a person makes a closet that locks, anyway?

There's not a keyhole on this side, so no picking the lock from here. No breaking down the door, since it's thick oak and there's no room. Usually at this point he would just shoot the door, but that's why they were hiding in here rather than getting in intense firefights anyway. Some asshole had taken there pieces at the door of the mansion. Apparently they have some 'no guns' policy, but they clearly did a really bad job of enforcing on pretty much anyone who was NOT cop.

Some mansion. He can't even get cell reception in here. How long until Kono and Chin or HPD find them? Will they even think to look in random closets? You don't really go around expecting closets to lock in your boss. Shit.

He does shove a hanger under the door, so it at least makes it obvious even if Danny's nonstop ranting in some way overlooked.

He wonders if he could rig an explosive out of the lighter in his pocket and his shoes. It might be worth it to try just to see Danny make that face. The one that says "McGarrett, what the fuck are you even". Not that Danny doesn't verbally express his displeasure, too. Christ, is he still talking? Of course he is.

"--don't expect to get wrangled into tiny closets with my stoiclly quiet partner, are you even listening? God, I bet you aren't even LISTENING to me--"
There are times Steve really wants to send Rachel some sort of card or gift basket or something, because the woman put up with this for ten years. And that really takes an amount of patience that he can't imagine possessing.

Maybe she's secretly deaf?

Danny has started waving a hand in his face and saying his name over and over like he is Danny's old dog and has just failed to do a trick he's been carefully trained for.

"If you're just trying to get my attention in order to keep ranting, Danny, it's not going to work. I will continue not listening."

"Actually, Steve," Steve notices this is the same tone of voice in which he says Rachel. God. "I was wondering what that switch behind you is."

At this point, Danny wriggles a hand behind Steve to find...yes, a light switch.

It being light in the closet does not actually help in anyway. It merely brings to Steve attention--well, not that he could really forget--that he is currently all up in the personal space of an attractive, angry, disheveled man.

Not that Danny was any angrier than usual at the moment, but 'angry' was just a necessary word for any description of Danny.

what kind of a closet locks? 2/2

[ityellsback.livejournal.com]

It occurs to Steve that they will probably be in the closet for quite a while. It occurs to Steve that he ought to give up on the escape attempts and just find a way to shut Danny up.

To hell with it, Steve thinks, but what he says is, "Hey, Danno. You wanna make out?"

Danny responds to this by looking as though he is chocking on something. He even makes a brief "hkk" noise before he goes back to talking again, saying, "How could that possibly, Steve, that is not even a plan, are you actually insane, that, the sense that makes, it is actually none, no sense--"

But Steve interrupts him by running his hand through Danny's hair so it all sticks up the wrong way. Most of it falls right down again, but a few pieces are still up. It makes him look like a deranged quail. An attractive, angry, deranged quail that is very much in Steve's space and has his hand on Steve's shoulder, still, where he put it after getting the lights. He smiles manically at Danny's hair.

"You don't have to. But I'm bored?" he tries. It's more than just boredom, of course, for him. He spends a fair amount of his time wanting to kiss Danny, but the right time hadn't really presented itself.

"I, you, do you even understand what appropriate work boundaries are? I mean, sexual harassment suits, those are a thing, okay?"
Before Steve actually has time to worry about that, Danny has shifted his hand to the back of Steve's neck and pulled him down into a kiss.

It starts out with the usual careful negotiation, who tilts their head and whose tongue goes where. And when he opens his mouth and immediately finds Danny's tongue right there, running carefully over his teeth, Danny's hand at the back of his head tilting his head right---well, no. That would be letting Danny win (not to imply letting him win for those five seconds wasn't amazing).

He gets a hand on Danny's hip and a hand full of blonde hair and pushes away from his wall and further into Danny's space. Danny's head hits the wall and he huffs protest into Steve's mouth before biting his lip. Which, okay, wow.
This also means Steve gets to shove his tongue into Danny's mouth, and that's, yes.
Danny sucks on it.
This is clearly going somewhere fast because Steve is achingly hard already and Danny is shoving a thigh between his legs and goddamit, apparently Danny is a slut for it because he moans when Steve runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip just there--

and Kono opens the door.

Steven is well aware that even ninja reflexes will not make this look like anything other than what it is, so he moves back only slightly and leaves his hands on Danny (despite that Danny is rapidly turning a truly hilarious color). Upon some deliberation, he says, "Uhm. So. Hi, Kono."

Kono closes the door.

Danny says, "I am going to fucking kill you."

Steve kisses him again. Danny lets him.

I Guess I Said I Was Your Husband (1/?)

[ciaimpala.livejournal.com]

(containing some of my favorite cliches, including hurt/comfort, hospital bedside confessionals, Grace being adorable, everyone thinking Steve is Danny's husband, and Steve meeting the Williams's)

Steve saw it all, the man coming toward him, the glint of steel, Danny pushing Steve out of the way, the knife sliding into Danny’s stomach once, twice, three quick times, right below his vest.
Danny let out a gasp of surprise, a cry of pain, and then fell to his knees, collapsing onto his back, body arching with a strangled scream. Steve dropped to his knees, laying his violently shaking hands on Danny’s blood-drenched skin, trying desperately to find a way to cover all the wounds at once. “Hold on Danny, hold on, you’re going to be ok,” Steve pleaded, keeping his hands pressed tight against Danny’s stomach, bringing his forehead down to press against Danny’s, keeping their gazes locked together.
“Babe, n-no I’m not,” Danny choked out, eyes starting to close, but Steve grabbed Danny’s face, squeezed it between his hands, forced those eyes open again.
“You have to be,” Steve begged, and he lowered his lips to Danny’s, kissed him desperately, tongue against the roof of Danny’s mouth, lips pressing hard enough to leave bruises. He felt Danny start to violently shake and pulled back, taking his coat off and wrapping it around Danny’s body, keeping the pressure on Danny’s stomach.
Steve barely registered the footsteps, Kono’s scream, sobs, Chin’s voice barely able to choke out the words, “Officer down. Assistance needed immediately!” All he heard was Danny, each word a labored, painful effort.
“Tell…Grace…her Danno loves her,” Danny gasped out, his hand inching forward to grab Steve’s weakly. “Danno…loves…you too babe.”
Danny’s eyes closed, his breathing stopped, and Steve swore he felt his breath stop too. He’d never seen Danny this still, this quiet, and it was enough to break him down, but Steve couldn’t let it.
Throwing the coat aside, Steve ripped off Danny’s vest, began the compressions and breath, the count in his head and the feel of Danny’s chest under his hands the only things keeping him together.
Danny’s chest suddenly heaved, his head tossed back with a strangled breath, his eyes flying open, and the paramedics rushed onto the scene.
Steve staggered backwards as the medics descended. “He was stabbed three times,” Steve choked out, hands flapping uselessly at his sides. “He stopped breathing once, but I brought him back in one minute eleven seconds.”
The medics carefully loaded Danny onto a stretcher, and carried him into the ambulance. Steve kept pace with them, and started climbing in with Danny.
“Sir…” one of the medics began, raising a hand.
“I’m his husband,” Steve blurted out. His eyes widened, his hand flying up to his mouth, as he realized what he’d just said. As he opened his mouth to explain, to say he knew full well that wanting to be the husband of someone he wasn’t even dating, and actually being said person’s husband, were two very different things, the medic stepped aside, allowing Steve entrance to the back of the ambulance.
Without hesitation, Steve shut his mouth and climbed in, immediately grabbing Danny’s hand and bringing it to his lips, murmuring “I’m here, Danno, I gotcha.”

To be continued…

[eaconwell.livejournal.com]

has everyone already seen this?

maybe someone can pull a cliche out of it? :)

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=12269&id=120000351366783#!/photo.php?fbid=120859294614222&set=a.120859121280906.12269.120000351366783&theater

[grimcognito.livejournal.com]

Their wedding reception, maybe?

Untitled Locked in Closet/Grace made them do it Fic Part 1

[shemmelle.livejournal.com]

Authors Note: First, I have seen 4 episodes only but read ALL THE FIC (What is my life) Second, I wrote this inbetween people looming behind me at work to ask me important questions (sadly not about H50). So unbetaed, and utterly ridiculous. Third, posting here (I hope thats okay) because literally no one I know (except my mother) watches H50, so I figured even late to the party someone might read this! Fourth, I kind of want to write the Ex-Mother-in-law made them do it now. Is that even a cliche.

^^^&&&^^^

Danny was not running late. He would just make it on time. A situation that wouldn’t earn him points with Rachel but at least he’d not lose any.

“Danno!”

Grace pelted down the corridor and propelled herself into his arms. “Hey!”

“You were almost late.”

He ruffled her hair, “Well if you show me your classroom I definitely won’t be late.” He set her down and grabbed her hand.

“Danny!”

Danny’s shoulders tensed as he turned. “You cannot be serious. You can’t see where I am?”

Steve just looked at him, “The Governor – “

“No.” Danny held up his hand “I understand that this might take some understanding but I’ve just worked 72 hours straight – “

“Not quite straight – “

“Don’t interrupt me. Worked seventy two hours straight, and now I am going to my daughters parent teacher –“

“Information,” said Grace.

“Information – whatever - night. I am not on duty. I will not be on duty after this either since I plan like any sane person who requires sleep food and human interaction – to sleep for at least 72 hours straight.”

Steve crossed his arms. “The Governor –“

Danny threw up his arms, “Really? You want to start with me?” He knelt down to Grace. “Listen Gracie I’m just going to have to talk to Steve for five minutes – five minutes only – “ that was said with a twist of his head to Steve “Go tell your mother I will be there in five minutes.”

He turned back to Steve feeling himself winding up for a rant – he had manfully held off after the latest shooting incident, the third time Steve went in without backup, and the accidental shaving of the suspect: but if Steve was going to interrupt his daddy daughter time….

“You really want to do this in a school corridor? You don’t want to just calmly listen to what I have to say. No of course you don’t.” Steve took the wind right out of his sails which always infuriated Danny.

“You can talk in here,” said Grace who Danny hadn’t noticed was still standing there. “Lots of people go in here to be private.”

Danny smiled at her, “Thankyou sweetheart, we might just do that.”

Steve turned on the light. It was a storage cupboard. “What?”

“I do not want to know what people are doing in here privately, “ said Danny turning to open the door and finding that it wouldn’t open. “Grace! Can you open the door?”

“No.”

“No? What’s wrong honey?”

There was a pause “Oh sorry Danno. Yes I can open the door.”

They waited. “Grace you still haven’t opened the door,” said Steve coming to press his ear to the door.

“I meant yes I can open the door but I won’t. I think you and Steve need to talk about your feelings.”

Danny stared at the door blankly and wondered what on earth had gotten into his normally mild mannered daughter. Steve however just blinked and started to look around.

Re: Untitled Locked in Closet/Grace made them do it Fic Part 2

[shemmelle.livejournal.com]

^^^&&&^^^

Of course the storage closet doesn't hold them for very long. It’s a storage closet, it has things in it, and Danny would swear under oath that Stephen McGarrett would only need like a piece of string to break out of a locked room.

Grace looks disappointed but Danny is too busy hustling to the classroom so that Rachel doesn't have something else to add to her list of ways Danny disappoints her, to ask her why she just pulled that stunt.

He writes it off as Grace not liking seeing her father fight with people. He can understand that. Rachel and he had tried to keep it civil in front of her, but they hadn't always succeeded. So of course she'd feel upset. She wasn't to know that unlike his relationship with Rachel that was just how Steve and he were with each other it didn't mean anything.

She looks a little happier when Steve hangs about listening to the teachers presentation – though Danny knows it so he can corner Danny in the car park and whisk him off to certain governor approved death – he even asks intelligent questions about the maths program which throws the teacher off. So Danny doesn't rag on him too much about showing up at his daughter’s school and impinging on his valuable Gracie time.

“Though there will from now forward be no arguing in front of Grace, right?”

“I never start it,”

“The hell you don't.”

“Name one time I started it.”

“You got me shot.”

“Are you ever going to get over that?”

“No. It’s not something you get over. You meet someone they get you shot; you make sure they understand how very very wrong that was for the rest of their lives.”

“Right, well still didn’t start it.”

“What? Are you 12? No don’t answer that one.”

“We are talking about verbal arguments. It wouldn't have been a big deal if you hadn't made it one.”

“Excuse me. Bullet, tearing my flesh how is that – wait just I don't want to know. But this - “ he gestures between the two of them “this cannot happen in front of my daughter. Right?”

Steve nods in that gruff way of his, but Danny knows he won't start anything with Danny in front of Grace anymore.

Except Grace didn't seem placated and her behaviour went from adorably concerned to frankly bizarre.

She pressed all the buttons in the elevator and managed to get it stuck, while he Steve and her were going to see the view from the top of some 'awesome tower' (Steve's words not his, Danny refused to call anything on the island except his daughter awesome).

“How much sugar have you had today?” he asked her as Steve tried to MacGyver the controls.

“None, Danno.”

“Then why - ?”

She blinked innocently at him and since Steve managed to get the elevator working again he let it pass.

Then there was the car incident. She'd stood outside the truck with the key in her hand – somehow she'd filched it without him even seeing - and every time Steve or Danny had tried to open the door she'd pressed the lock button confusing the doors and blocking their exit.

Luckily Steve had ninja reflexes and managed to beat her fingers, and threw the door open before she could lock it again.

Danny'd never wanted to ask “What the Hell?” to his baby girl before. Instead he gave her a calm lecture about being naughty and inappropriate jokes.

The last straw had been finding himself in a boat – with no oars – in the middle of a lake, with Grace grinning from the shore. Luckily there was a reason Steve had such giant limbs, and no fear of like flesh eating piranhas or whatever lived in the lake.

Grace had just looked at him mullishly - An expression she clearly picked up from her mother (it could have nothing to do with him) - and refused to explain which had sent him into a tailspin. He was a cop he didn't have to imagine the long list of things that could have happened to G to make her start acting out like this he’d seen them all.

So he'd bitten the bullet and organised a date with Rachel. Somehow he knew he'd get the blame, but this was about their daughter, it wasn't about him.

[jtsbbsps-dk.livejournal.com]

“The mouse is how you control the little arrow that lets you interact with elements on the sc--” *DIES OF LOLS*

Oh, Steve ♥

[grimcognito.livejournal.com]

misplaced comment is misplaced?

wing!fic

[theeverdream.livejournal.com]

Written for this meme but also as part of a wing!fic WIP (http://theeverdream.livejournal.com/81318.html) I've been working on recently.



It had been so long since Danny had been healthy that any sexual feelings Steve might have ever had towards him had vanished. It wasn't that the wings were a turn-off - in fact, Steve could appreciate on a theoretical level that they made Danny even more attractive, if such a thing were possible. Steve simply didn't have room inside for lust because he was full to bursting with emotions like protectiveness and worry that made his stomach clench whenever he thought about his friend.

He wasn't sure Danny was healthy even now but he had been getting better; the nurse didn't come by the house anymore and Danny didn't have to struggle so much to sound upbeat and avoid worrying Grace over the phone.

Which apparently meant his subconscious decided it would be okay to let up on the fear a little and indulge in a naughty dream about Danny, if his vague memories of soft feathers, warm skin, urgent whispers - and the mess on his sheets - was anything to go by.