Author's Note: This fic originally started as a standalone prompt from the shoot_the_curl comm on LiveJournal, and spiraled into what promises to be a monstrosity with a few well-placed comments. In other words, I completely blame the folks at Archive of Our Own; this is all their fault.

Stuck in the Middle With You

'Only in Hawaii,' Danny thought, as he ducked behind an overturned table to avoid the bullets flying overhead. 'Only in Hawaii-'

Only in this pineapple-infested hellhole could he manage to get caught in the middle of a dispute between two gun-wielding idiots while minding his own business and doing absolutely nothing. Well, not nothing, he reflected. He had been trying to enjoy himself on a date. Had been enjoying himself a great deal, if he was being honest, at least up until the bullets had started flying.

He'd been surprised, pleasantly so, when Steve had asked him out to dinner last night. They'd been flirting, in their way, for months, but he'd never really expected it to go anywhere. Rachel hadn't been able to stop teasing him, and Grace had jumped wholeheartedly into helping him get ready for tonight. And things had been going well – until a couple of morons had both decided to hold up the same restaurant, and then had started shooting up the place to try and scare each other off.

His left arm burned where he'd been grazed by a bullet, and he had his free hand wrapped around the wound to stop the trickle of blood. Across the restaurant, a woman screamed as a glass shattered on the table over her head. Danny risked a quick glance around the edge of the table, jerking back when one of the shooters looked in his direction, praying that he hadn't been seen. He shot his companion a wordless look.

"Tell me you have a plan," he muttered, under his breath, and next to him, Steve nodded, a grimly serious look on his face.

"We take them out," he said, shortly, and Danny sighed in exasperation.

"I was hoping for a few more details than that," he said, impatiently.

"Okay," Steve replied, "I'll take the big one, and you get the little one. That's not a crack on your height," he added, hastily. "But, he's already bleeding, and this is a brand new shirt."

"You're all heart," Danny muttered. "All right, little guy it is. Give me your ankle piece." When Steve remained suspiciously silent, he prompted, "Steve, your gun?"

"Well, where's yours?" Steve demanded, and Danny blushed.

"It's a date," he muttered, sheepishly. "You don't bring guns on a date. But, you-" When Steve still stayed silent, Danny shot him an incredulous look. "You do have a gun, don't you?"

"Like you said," Steve shot back, "you don't bring guns on a date."

"I don't," Danny snapped, staring at him in disbelief. "Normal people don't. But, you're not normal. You're Super Seal, for god's sake; you carry grenades in my car. How can you not have a gun?"

"I was trying to be romantic," Steve retorted.

"Yeah, well, if your romance gets me killed-" Danny muttered. "All right, we go on three, got it?"

Steve nodded, shortly, tensing into a crouch on the balls of his feet. "One," he murmured, softly, "two-"

"Hey," Danny interrupted him, quickly. "Be careful, okay? I was hoping to go walking on the beach, later, and I don't want to spend what's left of this night in the hospital, watching you get patched up."

"Don't worry," Steve murmured, pulling him into a quick kiss. "Our night is long from over." He grinned impulsively at Danny. "Ready? Three!"