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

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!!!

Re: MPREG 1/?

[ariadne83]

Steve is a failface.

There's three more parts up now.

MPREG 2/?

[ariadne83]

[Repost]

Steve's so miserable he 'fesses up to the whole thing in about two seconds, and that's when Danny starts yelling.

“Consider your options here: you can go back to the fairies…”

“Menehune,” Steve corrects, without lifting his head from the toilet seat.

“You can go back to them and tell them you made a mistake and beg for a take-back. Or, and here’s the part that I don’t think is getting through your skull just yet, you can be pregnant. With a baby. Pregnant or not-pregnant; that’s it. There’s no middle-ground, here. No third option you can MacGuyver up with the contents of your closet. Also, and I cannot believe I have to say this. OK, it’s you, so maybe I can believe it. But, Steven, here’s the thing: it stops being a sane bet when somebody’s life is involved. Your life specifically. Do you think Malia’s got Chin drugged up to the eyeballs for fun? This is not how these things are supposed to happen, alright? Christ, I need like, a whole gallon of coffee to deal with this shit.”

Steve groans and retches, which is lovely, just lovely, but it also reminds Danny of what’s going on here, other than Steve driving him batshit insane (which is sadly normal).

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“A while.”

“A while as in an hour or a while as in you got up at the ass crack of dawn to do your Iron Man routine but you didn’t make it outside?”

Steve hacks and spits noisily (which, again, just lovely to hear first thing in the morning) and then says, “The latter.”

Of course. Of course Super Seal would be knocked up with a super baby; it’s poetic justice. But it’s also (and Danny hates himself for coming over all nurturing already; goddamnit, he’s not done yelling) super-risky. “I’m gonna get you some water and then I’m calling Malia. Just… don’t move, OK? The last thing we need is you swooning.”

MPREG 3/?

[ariadne83]

Malia is, to say the least, not happy to have two patients to deal with in her off-hours instead of one. She doesn’t yell – Danny admires her fortitude that she can manage to not yell in the face of Steve’s dumbassery – but her voice is clipped instead of the honey-smooth Danny’s come to expect when she rattles off a list of everything she thinks Steve might need. It’s a long list, and Danny scribbles frantically trying to get everything down. By the end of it he’s feeling so wrung out he almost sobs with relief when Malia promises to come by at two. Almost.

The next call is to Kono – “Steve did what?” – because there is no way in hell Danny’s leaving Steve alone right now. Who knows what crazy scheme might pop into his head next. And since Kono is a goddess in human form she volunteers to swing by Lilihana on her way and pick up the breakfast of kings. Today would be a good day if it weren’t for the behemoth dry-heaving in the bathroom. Although on the bright side at least Danny doesn’t have to sit in there next to him and hold Steve’s hair back while he curses Danny’s name (Danny is not surprised in the least that Rachel and Stan haven’t had a kid, because the first trimester with Grace was brutal).

"Boss?" Kono's voice rings out loud and clear, way quicker than Danny had dared hope, and she has coffee.

“He’s in the can. And you are long overdue for a serious raise; I’ll be sure and tell Steve as soon as he’s, y’know, upright.”

Kono winces. “That bad?”

“That bad. Ugly. The worst.”

“What the hell…?”

“I’ve been asking myself that since I got here.” Danny shrugs, takes the pastry bag off her and sits down at the table for a well-earned feast.

Kono just stares at him for a second before shrugging too and sitting down opposite Danny. They get through a cup of coffee each and four Cocoa Puffs before she asks, “Seriously, Steve did this on purpose?”

"Apparently."

“Oh… kay…”

Steve chooses that moment to retch again, loud, and Kono grimaces, turning a shade of pale Danny hasn’t seen on her before. And considering she’s just done Danny a great kindness he’s feeling… magnanimous.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, hit the beach? I got this.”

“You sure?” Kono says, but Danny’s pretty sure it’s just pro forma; she’s already up out of her seat and edging towards the door.

“Go before I change my mind.”

Kono doesn’t waste any time; she’s out of there so fast the door bangs shut behind her and rattles the window. Smart lady.

MPREG 4/?

[ariadne83]

Right this minute Danny is feeling not-so-smart. Actually he’s feeling a lot of things that he can’t really afford to think about just yet, because there’s Stuff to do. He manages to find a plastic bucket in the laundry, and he sets it on the floor next to the couch. Sets up Saltines and rice crackers and what have you on the coffee table. Puts the gaggle of drinks in the fridge, sets the kettle to boil, wipes up the crumbs of Cocoa Puffs he managed to leave on the table. And then there’s no more busywork, so he has to get down to business: levering Steve up off the floor. If Danny’s shoes end up with puke on them Steve is so paying for new ones.

“OK, that’s enough lying around.”

Steve flips him the bird but it loses most of its impact since he’s still hanging on to the toilet bowl for dear life with his other hand. Danny gets down on one knee and slings Steve’s arm over his shoulders, dutifully ignoring Steve’s protests. “Come on; it’s disgusting in here, and if I leave you on the floor any longer Malia’ll have my hide.”

"Please, just let me die."

Surprise, surprise, Steve the secret drama queen does not die. Danny shuffle-steps him into the living room, dumps him on the couch and (hopefully) steps out of the line of fire.

“OK, you need to drink more. Take your pick: we have peppermint tea, ginger tea, chamomile, ginger beer, Powerade…”

“You smell like chocolate,” Steve says, wrinkling his nose and reaching for the bucket.

~~~

After a truly epic amount of complaining (after forcing Danny to go brush his teeth twice to nuke the smell of coffee and chocolate) Steve falls asleep watching an old Superbowl replay. It's not even a little bit endearing how predictable he is.

No really, it's not. Steve's all sweaty and he stinks and his mouth his hanging open and... Danny wants to get him a blanket and tuck him in.

Fuck.

It's so not fair. They've never even hooked up. OK, so there was that one time they got stupidly drunk and made out on the floor of Steve’s living room (it’s a miracle Danny can remember that much; why they were on the floor shall forever remain a mystery) but they’d both been too wasted to get it up, so that doesn’t count, right? Right.


Danny retreats to the kitchen and carefully considers having a breakdown but there’s only so much room in the day for unnecessary drama and Steve is hogging it like an only child. And really, that explains so much about Mary, no lie.

MPREG 5/?

[ariadne83]

The day drags on excruciatingly slow (as Danny listens to Steve snore, and tries to figure out what the hell is wrong with him; maybe it’s just been too long since he got laid), and then amps up to a dizzying speed once Malia shows up. She quickly and efficiently checks Steve over, places a half-dozen strategic phone calls, and almost before Danny can blink Malia’s browbeaten Chin into temporarily moving into Steve’s guest room. This is either a stroke of genius or the master plan of an evil, evil woman. Right now Danny’s leaning towards genius because Steve hasn’t whined once since Chin stepped through the door.

They're currently sitting on opposite ends of the couch, watching yet another Super Bowl replay and blatantly trying to out-stoic each other. From the glances Chin keeps making at the bathroom it looks like Steve might actually win this round, but with any luck Chin won't be such a brat about it.

And yep, there goes Chin. Steve (the bastard) smirks about it for about thirty seconds until the sound of Chin puking hits him, then he has to dive for his bucket. He's still going when Chin comes back and flops heavily onto the couch.

“Oh god,” Steve groans, swatting blindly at him.

“Yeah, it sucks, brah,” Chin says breezily, and cracks open another bottle of ginger beer.

MPREG 6/?

[ariadne83]

So, that’s life for a while. Danny splits shifts with Malia at Casa Preggo whenever he can, praying each day that when he gets there the house won’t have burned down, or Chin won’t have snapped and drowned Steve, or Steve won’t have broken a limb trying to prove that pregnant or not he’s still got it. He makes healthy, well-balanced, home-cooked meals for the ungrateful bastards (it’s not his fault Malia’s made Rules) and most nights Chin crashes out by eight-thirty, but Steve is still trying to prove he’s Super-fecund-man, able to stay up later and get up earlier. More often than not that ends with Steve half-sprawled in Danny’s lap in a drooling, snoring mess by nine-thirty. Danny would complain more if it weren’t oddly soporific – Steve’s weight and warmth and solid presence, even when he’s asleep. Danny hasn’t slept as well in years as he does during those cat naps, and he’d feel a smidgen of guilt about that except hey, Steve’s the one who’s chosen to use him as a body pillow.

MPREG 7/?

[ariadne83]

Five-0 is down to Danny and Kono and whatever HPD flatfoots they co-opt for back up, which would be more than fine under ordinary circumstances but this situation, this random happenstance is pretty much the dictionary definition of extraordinary. They’re all dealing with it in their own ways, but lately Kono’s been so crazy around the eyes Danny’s starting to have concerns. She gets snippier and snippier about Malia every time the baby – well, strictly speaking babies - every time the subject comes up. Which is a lot, seeing as Malia’s the one handling the whole… paternal healthcare rigmarole. And then, maybe, Danny lets slip that Kono doesn’t know the full story about what went down between Chin and Malia.

Fatal mistake, because Kono learned her interrogation techniques from Steve.

Danny ends up driving her over to the house – Kono’s so full of righteous fury that letting her behind the wheel would be a bad, bad idea – and she yells at Chin. A lot. From what Danny pieces together (before he grabs Steve and beats a hasty retreat) she’d looked up to Malia, so it’s kinda fair that Kono’s deeply pissed. And now that Danny’s not the only one who yells at pregnant dudes the last of the little knot of guilt in his chest disintegrates. Doesn’t mean he wants to be around for the smackdown, though, in Kono’s line of sight.

MPREG 8/?

[ariadne83]

Since he was the one who spilled the big secret Danny considers it his duty, after that night, to chaperone Malia and Chin and Kono. There’ve been enough homicides at Steve’s place already. Danny goes from sleeping on the sofa bed in his own - admittedly shitty, but affordable and in Gracie's neighborhood - his very own apartment to crashing on Steve's couch every night that he doesn't have Grace. Which, as per usual, is a lot less than Danny would like but he'll take a night or two a week over nothing.

Steve’s place is noisy and chaotic now, and there are a lot of frank discussions masquerading as fights. When Kono and Malia go out for drinks to talk things out Chin mopes for a solid hour, so Danny kicks off another CHiPs marathon. There are stupid, lengthy discussions about cereal and whose turn it is to use the washer and dryer and Goddamnit, who is using so many towels? And Danny feels right at home. He thinks long and hard about that when he’s lying awake in his apartment, Gracie snoozing in her room. About how she used to be the only reason he was here, in Hawaii, but now she’s the only reason he’s here, in this glorified storage closet. About how much he’s missed being surrounded by loud, crazy, loving people. About what the hell he’s going to do when super-sprog is out in the world and things will supposedly go back to normal. For a certain value of normal that includes Danny’s two male co-workers having newborn babies they’ll have given birth to themselves but does not include the five of them continuing to live in each other’s pockets.

Danny doesn’t sleep much those nights.

MPREG 9/?

[ariadne83]

The months roll by – emphasis on the roll in Steve’s case; he started showing first, even though Chin has something like five weeks on him, but then there’s the advantage of not carrying a McGarrett super-baby to take into account – and Chin and Steve finally stop puking in tandem. Chin gets cabin fever and starts getting back on his bike, which is nuts. Has he even read the accident statistics? But hey, it’s not Danny’s kid and it’s not his call.

And Chin is a picnic compared to Steve, who rapidly turns into Mr. Cranky-pants. Currently he’s trying to jab the TV remote to death and flicking through channels so fast it’s making Danny a little queasy.

“Hey, hey, hey! Whoa, what did the flat screen ever do to you?

Steve tosses the remote onto the couch, where it bounces off onto the floor and the batteries fall out. “Nothing,” Steve spits, honest-to-god glowering at the TV.

Yeah, right. “Your nothing looks a lot like trying to set it on fire with the power of your mind, so color me unconvinced. Come on, seriously: what?”

Steve turns his glare on Danny, pulls a ninja move that has Danny flat on his back, pressed into the couch cushions, and kisses him bruisingly hard. It’s all wrong; Danny can hardly breathe because, hello, Steve just knocked the wind out of him, and also, the man weighed a ton before he went and got himself knocked up. Danny squirms, which Steve only seems to take as encouragement, so he resorts to punching him in the shoulder. Steve jerks back, dragging Danny halfway up with him because he still has two fistfuls of Danny’s shirt.

“Let me breathe, Gigantor.”

MPREG 10/?

[ariadne83]

Steve obligingly shifts his weight back but he still looks pissy as hell. And with the way Danny’s shirt is straining in his grip it looks like yet another piece of clothing will have to be chalked up to ruination by Steven J. McGarrett.

Danny wraps a hand around Steve’s wrist, squeezing slightly. “You want to tell me what’s going on? And use your words,” Danny adds when Steve starts leaning down to kiss him again.

Now Steve lets go of Danny’s shirt, and Danny thumps back down onto the couch.

“I want...” Steve chokes out, and then swallows hard. “Fuck me. Danny, I want...”

“Yeah, I got that part. Just tell me one little thing: was it absolutely necessary for you to relive your high school football glory days? Because let me tell you, my friend, concussion is not sexy.”

“I’m sorry. Are the cushions not soft enough for you, Princess Dee?”

Danny reaches over his head with his free hand and knocks his fist against the arm of the couch. “You missed cracking my skull by, like, an inch.”

“So let me make it up to you.” Steve rolls his hips, and hey, OK, now that Danny’s gotten past the shock-and-awe portion of the evening his body is starting to catch on, even if Steve is still about ten miles ahead. It’s not like that’s anything new anyway.

Danny makes the executive decision to let go of Steve’s wrist and grab his ass instead. Only to help Steve keep his balance, right, except for how Danny doesn’t exactly put up any protests when Steve kisses him again, searching and desperate. It’s good, so, so good, even with Steve’s firm belly pressing into Danny’s diaphragm and making his breath come in short. Right up until Steve starts getting bitey. Danny turns his head away, but Steve just latches onto his neck.

“Seriously, what is up with you?”

MPREG 11/?

[ariadne83]

Steve drags his lips up to Danny’s ear and says, “I jerked off twice yesterday and once today already and it’s not enough.”

“So I’m what, a warm body? Very nice, Steven; très smooth.”

“Don’t tell me we haven’t been headed this way for over a year.”

“OK, no, true, that would be a blatant lie, but…” Steve kisses him again before he can finish his thought, and Danny goes with it, just for a minute, before pulling away again because he has to ask. “Now? Really?”

“Now. Right now.”

So they stumble up to Steve’s room, because it’s roommate etiquette not to fuck on the couch, and Danny pushes into Steve, noses the soft curl of hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, holds him close while Steve comes apart under his hands and his dick and his mouth.

And Danny can't shut off his brain enough to avoid thinking that this is it, the point of no return. They've tipped off the cliff and they're hurtling towards the future and they've done it, in typical McGarrett fashion, without much in the way of insanity-level checks. But the craziest part of all is that Danny wants this. He wants Steve and this house and the family they're making, and he wants Steve to let him have it all.

It's been years since Danny felt like this, the heady combination of sheer terror at the scale of what he's getting into and bull-headed, stubborn certainty that he has to see this through, and when he comes it's like being hit over the head with a two-by-four. His skull aches and his limbs are useless and heavy and he gulps for air, like it's his first time all over again.

Christ, Danny is in so far over his head.

MPREG 12/?

[ariadne83]

They fuck their way through the second trimester, and by the sound of things Chin and Malia are pretty much doing the same. Danny really could have lived without knowing that Chin is loud, and the fact that the curses he comes out with make Steve blush is frankly disconcerting. But Danny just bites his tongue and tries to avoid staring at the lovebirds when they slink down for breakfast, because if anyone deserves wall-slamming, bed-breaking reunion sex it’s Chin and Malia.

By and large things are going good, even if Danny’s opted out of having The Talk with Steve more than once. More than twice. OK, maybe a lot, but for whatever reason Steve is letting him, and not making any moves of his own. Which is fine. Things are stable; everyone’s happy and getting along, even Kono and Malia. Especially Kono and Malia, but Danny is not even going there. The point is, why rock the boat? Danny hates getting wet.

Of course, what Danny hasn’t counted on is that they live in Hawaii, where everybody knows everybody. Somebody spots him buying prenatal vitamins or something, because the next time he goes to drop off Grace Rachel is waiting to interrogate him about his mysterious new girlfriend and their apparent love-child.

“There’s no girlfriend. Just Steve,” Danny blurts out, and then winces because that was maybe not the best way to start this conversation.

Rachel’s eyebrows disappear up behind her fringe. “Oh. A surrogate, then? ”

Yeah, that’s as good an explanation as any. “Rachel…”

“It’s awfully soon, isn’t it? Or perhaps it’s not. You know, we really should get together for dinner, the four of us, and…”

“No.”

“Daniel, really…”

“Not yet, OK? I don’t want to say anything to Grace right now. This whole… thing wasn’t exactly planned, not by me anyway, and I don’t know where it’s headed. Steve’s the… the father, but he’s kind of touchy and if he changes his mind about me, or whatever, I just don’t want to let Gracie in for a world of hurt.”

MPREG 13/?

[ariadne83]

“You’ll have to tell her eventually,” Rachel says, eyes soft like she knows exactly what Danny’s not-saying. Goddamnit, her freaky psychic mojo was supposed to have died off after the divorce.

Because, see, that right there sounds obvious and innocuous but when it comes to Rachel there are layers and then there are layers, and Danny knows when he’s being told to man up and talk about his feelings. That Rachel’s filtering it through his responsibility to Grace is a low blow, but maybe he needs the wake-up call. “I know. I will.”

The promise weighs heavy on Danny's mind on the drive back home. But try as he might he can't come up with a good plan for how to do this, a script that doesn't involve Danny saying something along the lines of, "Hey, I know we've only been sleeping together for, like, a month but for all intents and purposes we might as well be married already, because I'm totally head-over-heels in love with you and I want to raise your baby," and Steve taking out a restraining order.


In the end he takes the coward’s way out: he crawls into bed with Steve and presses his face into Steve’s shoulder. “You know I’m all in, right?”

“Yeah, Danny. I know.”

“Good. That is good, because Rachel knows. About us, I think, and about the whole baby situation for sure. I didn’t say anything but she found out anyway, and now she knows. Well, she thinks we’re going through a surrogate, but she’s got the general gist.” Danny gives Steve a minute to let that sink in and then adds, "I have to tell Grace."

MPREG 14/?

[ariadne83]

Steve lets out a long, noisy breath, and his grip on Danny’s hip tightens. “Yeah, of course. Shit, I didn’t even think… You want to tell her together?”

“I… Yeah. No. I don’t know. Can I get back to you after I’ve called the shrink?” For Grace, mostly – the child psychologist who helps them “strategize” through major life changes – but for Danny, too, because this whole conversation has his Avoidance Issues plastered all over it. Danny was fucked in the head long before he met Steve, and he’s only improved marginally – actually, slipped sideways into new territory of crazy – over the last year and a half.

Steve just nods, and his hair tickles Danny’s ear.

“She’s probably going to hate you, at least for a little while. Gracie, I mean, not the shrink. Although come to think about it Hayley’ll probably want to meet you if you’re up for it.” Danny’s babbling, he knows he’s babbling but he can’t help it.

“It’ll be fine. Grace loves me,” Steve murmurs, sliding his hand up Danny’s back to the nape of his neck and pulling him into a kiss, and Danny goes with it because OK. OK, he really wants to believe that.

MPREG 15/?

[ariadne83]

~~~

Telling Grace makes it really real. She cries over the fact that he’s dating Steve – which, hey, she’d never exactly been thrilled at sharing her Danno with anybody, even before the divorce, so not so much with the suprise – and she tells them the baby had better not be a boy. Danny’s torn between relief that apparently she still thinks boys are icky and flat-out fear; he’s prepared to deal with her being pissy at the adults until she wraps her head around all this but he is in no way prepared to deal with sibling rivalry. He briefly contemplates calling his Mom and begging for help but that would mean telling his entire family about all this, and right this second that is just… no. The last thing on his mind.

After that, though, Danny keeps waking up in the middle of the night and remembering things to add to the list of Being A Responsible Parent. Like updating his will; Danny changed it just before he moved to Hawaii, just in case he died in a fiery plane crash or a watery plane crash or whatever, but that was almost two years ago and Christ he’s an idiot, he really should’ve revised it when he joined 5-0. He contacts a lawyer and makes an appointment for what he thinks is going to be a straightforward amendment of beneficiaries but which ends up being a crash-course on the intricacies of dancing through the red tape of same-sex parenting. He leaves Kikua’s office with his brain full of worst-case scenarios – what if Mary joins an evangelical cult, and something happens to Steve, and Danny’s left with no home and no kid and no recourse – and a stack of paperwork.

Steve is infuriatingly blasé about the whole thing. Danny wants to ask, “Is this what happy looks like on you?” because he honestly doesn’t know, not one hundred per cent and if they’re going to do this… Well, it’s a little late for if; here Danny is, and there Steve is. But still, Danny has a love affair with words that borders on unhealthy, and sometimes he needs to have things spelled out, needs to know that the ideas bouncing around in his skull have some basis in reality. He tends to err on the side of pessimism – for good reason; his track record isn’t exactly crash-hot – but he’s so damn tired already, and that is not a good place to be with a new baby on the way.

So Danny wants to ask, and he tries to ask but he can’t spit the syllables out. Some small, pathetic part of him doesn’t want to hear the answer. Instead he points out just how fucked up it's going to look with no mother listed on the birth certificate, but apparently Steve has an answer for that too.

"Safe haven law, Danno."

"And then what , we act all shocked when you turn out to be the father?"

"Something like that."

There are so very many holes in that plan and Danny sits down at the kitchen table to cover his face with one hand. “Fine, but we’re keeping Grace far away from the nice social workers. And I can’t file any of this for months,” he adds, gesturing helplessly at the forms Kikua gave him to read over. “Because FYI: safe haven laws don’t tend to jibe with advance planning. Also, you’re explaining to the kid once it’s old enough to ask that you don't know which of your many exes is its Mommy.”

MPREG 16/?

[ariadne83]

Chin hits his third trimester hard, like landing face-first in gravel, and he’s back to sleeping fourteen hours a day. And apparently Steve hasn’t learned a damn thing, because he gloats about having a later fucking bedtime. Seriously, Danny has no idea how Mary managed to grow up with this asshole and not smother him to death in his sleep. Kono puts up with it for about five minutes before innocently suggesting a sparring session. To help Steve keep fit, naturally.

She knocks Steve on his ass a dozen times – the idiot doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge that his centre of gravity is wildly different – and Danny and Malia laugh until they cry.

Not long after, Steve passes the half-way mark of his pregnancy and Malia finally talks him into a scan. She sets it up for a date when she’s working the night shift, and Danny and Steve ninja their way into the hospital at three in the morning, sleep-drunk and stumbling into each other.

By the time they get to the examination room, Danny’s a little more alert and more than ready to get his first glimpsed of Steve’s baby. Not that he says bupkiss to that effect, because as per-freaking-usual Steve is Mr. Cool. He doesn't even flinch when the cold jelly hits his skin.

Steve looks at the screen and screws up his face; clearly he has no idea what he's looking at. Which is kind of ridiculous, because the resolution on this thing is a hundred times better than when Gracie was cooking, no lie. And Danny knows from ultrasounds – his family hands around pictures of Williamses-to-be like party favors – so he’s got a pretty damn good idea of what they’re looking at. More specifically, what they’re not looking at. “A girl?” he blurts out, because yes. Finally, something in this whole mess that Danny’s familiar with. He can handle a girl; girls are awesome.

Malia shoots a glare at him sideways. “We usually ask each parent if they want to know.”

“It’s fine.” Steve’s voice is smooth and flat, and it gives Danny the creeps. When he turns to look at him... nothing. Danny’s never seen that Face before, slack and dispassionate and so very not-Steve-like.

MPREG 17/?

[ariadne83]

By sheer force of will Danny manages not to say anything until they're back in the car, on the highway - someplace Steve can't run away from.

“I’m gonna take a wild stab in the dark here, and honest to God I hope I’m wrong – do not get used to hearing me say that, by the way – but I have to ask. Is it that you don’t want a girl? Because that would be... just, completely fucked up, Steven, I’m telling you.”

"No, that's not it," Steve replies, in that same creepy, flat tone he'd used on Malia.

"Oh good. I'm glad we cleared that up. But it does beg the question: what the fuck? Hello? Are you awake over there? Because you sound like Judge Dredd and it’s freaking me the fuck out. Listen to me; you’re making me swear. Do you know how much I hate people who can’t articulate their thoughts without swearing? It should be sparing, like punctuation, not every other fucking word.”

Re: MPREG 18/?

[ariadne83]

"I’m not cut out to be anyone’s father," Steve says blandly, like he's telling Danny he prefers crunchy peanut butter to smooth. "I don't know what I was thinking; this isn't me."

“OK, a) you were thinking about winning a bet, which actually wasn’t a bet, and only you would bet on something with stakes this high. And b) you couldn’t have had this big epiphany five months ago? What am I supposed to tell Grace?”

“You said you were all-in.”

“Yes, I did. I said that. Is there a particular reason you’re quoting me to me.”

“You should keep it. Her.”

OK, that is it. Danny can’t drive any further, because he’s so frustrated and confused and fucking pissed he can’t see straight. He takes the first exit he can find, pulls off the road and parks.

“What?”

Steve just stares out the goddamn window.

Danny snaps his fingers. “Hey, Steven, I’m talking to you. What the fuck?”

“You’ll take good care of her, Danny, I know it.”

“And you won’t, is that it?” Oh. OK, garden-variety freakouts Danny can handle.

“You’re the one who keeps telling me I’m crazy.”

“Out of love, babe. I mock because I care, you know that. And I know you didn’t put yourself through all this because of a stupid bet. That was a joke. I was joking. In hindsight it was maybe not the best timing, but in my defense you did kind of blindside me.”

MPREG 19/?

[ariadne83]

“Danno.” Steve starts breathing in short, panicky bursts and his eyes are wide now, his fists clenched so tight Danny can see the veins stand out on the backs of his hands. “I see you with Grace and I can’t… That’s not me, OK?”

“Of course you’re not me; that’s the whole damn point. You think I want to date me? No, I do not,” Danny says, shaking his head for emphasis. "I know you. I know you did this for a reason, even if I don't know what that is yet, specifically. And, Steven: the fact that you're scared out of your mind right now doesn't mean you'll be a shitty parent."

"I'm trying to be practical, Danny."

"OK. Yeah, sure. Then in the interests of practicality you should talk to Rachel about how much of a nervous wreck I was when we brought Grace home. For weeks I kept thinking someone would realize the whole thing was a mistake, I didn't know how to take care of a baby, I was going to fuck things up beyond repair. And you know what? Turns out, that's pretty much normal; turns out, it made me work harder to prove myself wrong. I can't promise it's going to be like that for you but you owe it to your daughter to at least give it a shot. Hell, you owe it to yourself ."

"My daughther," Steve echoes, and blinks hard, like the conversation has just taken a left-turn into Weirdville. Danny can relate; Steve makes him feel like that all the time.

"Yeah." Danny reaches over and lays his hand over Steve's. "It's a trip, huh?"

MPREG 20/?

[ariadne83]

Steve shuts his eyes and slumps back against his seat; Danny just sits there, holding his stupid hand, and lets Steve have a Moment. Which turns into several minutes, and that turns into Danny trying his damndest not to twitch, even though stretching his arm over the gear stick isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, and… And Steve is snoring. Quiet little snuffles that Danny wouldn’t be able to hear if the radio was on, but still: snoring. Snoozing. Out like a light, because Steve doesn’t even move when Danny lets go of him.

Danny sighs – because seriously, his life in medias Steve is so very many different shades of messed up – and starts the car. Funnily enough, he actually feels pretty calm about the fact that the bottom almost dropped out of his little domestic fantasy just now. Hopefully after a nice long nap and some processing time Steve will finally climb on-board the crazy train Danny’s pretty much been riding solo.

~~~

Sleeping Beauty’s still out for the count when the car pulls up outside the house, so Danny leaves him to it; the sun won’t even be up for another hour, so Steve won’t bake, but it’s Hawaii so he won’t freeze either. As an afterthought, Danny triggers the lock, setting the car alarm. Steve wouldn’t appreciate being left vulnerable, especially once he realizes how deeply he slept. He seems to think of his body as a well-oiled machine that should do his bidding no matter the constraints on it. Apparently Steve’s never heard that even robots are subject to (metal) fatigue.

MPREG 21/?

[ariadne83]

Chin's already out on the lana'i greeting the day when Danny steps out with a much-needed cup of coffee.

“Morning.”

Chin raises his glass of juice in salute. “Howzit?”

“Good. Pretty good. We had the... the thing, and mini-McGarrett’s fine, so.” Danny takes a good long gulp of his coffee and sits down so Chin won’t have to crane his neck.

“How’s Steve?”

“Y’know. Steve. Wore himself out running in circles in his brain and then crashed out in the car.”

“Hmm.”

Somehow - Danny has no idea how - Chin manages to convey amusement and exasperation in one wordless sound.

“We’re OK; Steve’ll get there. How about you? You look... terrible, actually. No offense brother.” It’s true, now that Danny’s looking at him up close: there are black circles under Chin’s eyes, and his face is so pale and washed-out it makes them stand out like bruises.

“Thanks,” Chin says wryly.

“Anything I can do?”

“Only if you can wind back the clock about four years.”

Uh oh; trouble in paradise. Just what they all need. “Umm, OK. Mind if I ask why?”

Chin shakes his head. “You were, what, twenty-six when Grace was born? I’m going to be thirty-eight. Malia’s not much younger.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So this could be it. If she stays with me she might never have children of her own. I can’t be responsible for that, Danny.”

Oy vey. Danny scrubs a hand over his face, taking a minute to figure out where to even begin trying to respond to that. “That’s... Are you kidding? She’s been with you every step of the way for months.”

“I know. I dragged her into this and I shouldn’t have.”

“You asked for her help and she said yes instead of telling you to take a hike. Look, I don’t want to step on any toes here; I know you guys have your history. But from where I’m standing it’s not just up to you anymore. Sorry, buddy, that ship has sailed.”

“Damnit.” Chin runs a hand over the back of his neck and then shoots Danny a sideways look. “When did you start watching Dr. Phil?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I paid good money for a real shrink when Rachel split.”

Chin snorts. “It shows. You’re a paragon of emotional stability, Danny.”

“At least I let people help me when the want to, Chin Ho Kelly.”

“Yeah, yeah; point taken.”

“You’re worse than Steve sometimes, and that’s saying something.”

Chin dips into his fruit salad and tosses a chunk of pineapple at Danny’s head. As a conversation-ender it’s juvenile and inarticulate, and once again Danny marvels that he’s the “open and honest” one in this little ohana. Rachel would laugh herself sick.

But it is what it is, and Chin looks a little les like he’s about to drop himself off a cliff, so that counts as a win.

Self-sacrificing morons, Danny’s surrounded by them.

MPREG 22/?

[ariadne83]

Danny downs his coffee and shoots the breeze with Chin until the sun comes up, whereupon he realizes Head Moron #1 still hasn't come in to join them. With anybody else Danny would assume they'd probably woken up and dragged their ass off to bed, but sure enough when he heads back out to the car to check he finds Steve exactly as he left him: sacked out and drooling.

“Hey,” Danny calls softly. He learned the hard way not to startle Steve awake. Ever. “Rise and shine, beautiful.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut tighter and covers his face with one hand. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven. Come on, you know the drill: breakfast and then whatever crazy scheme you’ve thought up now. Or, y’know, more sleep.”

“M’fine.”

“Yeah, you look fine. Not cowering from the sun like a vampire at all.”

Danny leans over and releases Steve’s seatbelt. “Are you coming inside or do I have to call Kamekona?”

“You used to be nice to me,” Steve complains, laboriously unfolding himself from the passenger seat and stretching his legs out before attempting to stand up.

“I’m nice! This is me being nice!” Danny slides an arm around Steve’s waist to steady him while he adjusts to no longer having his limbs just about folded in half. “I’m so thoughtful I didn’t even tell Chin the big news yet.”

Steve’s face flickers through a cavalcade of emotions before settling on “I think I’m happy but I’m not sure why,” - the exact same face he’d worn the first time Grace called him Uncle Steve. He lays a hand on his belly, frowning a little as if he’s only just realized it’s there. “A girl.”

“Ms. McGarrett,” Danny replies, a little giddy at the way it trips off his tongue.

Before he has a chance to take a breath and say anything more Steve wraps him in a crushing hug. He’s shaking like a leaf.

“Danny.”

“Hey, it’s OK; I got you.”

“I don’t... I don’t want things,” Steve chokes out. “I don’t get to.” He presses his face into Danny’s shoulder like he thinks that if he burrows in far enough he can hide from the scary Feelings.

There’s nothing much to do except hold on, tell him, “That’s not you anymore, babe,” and hope that that’s true. Because Steve’s had the people he cares about ripped away violently and he’s pushed on, made a new home for himself every time, and Danny respects that, he really does. But this, settling with Danny and raising a family - this is going to take a different kind of strength altogether.