a/n:

Summary: When Danny realized that he had started to develop a tendency around a certain Navy SEAL in his life, one that he was sure would turn out bad did it ever make contact, he attempted to curb it with a rubber band around his wrist—only the consequences weren't exactly what he had been expecting when Grace accidentally outed him in concern for her Danno.

Pairing: Danny/Steve [light].

HAWAII . FIVE - 0

Banded

~ I think about you all the time, but you won't ever know ~ (USS - Damini)

Danny wasn't entirely sure when it started to happen…

He substituted the urge to punch Steve with a raised voice and a rant (he yelled a lot); but he had a harder time trying to find a substitute for wanting to kiss Steve—until he watched this stupid TV movie that was on late at night and he was half-passed out on the couch that he couldn't even tell you the name of—but that was how an elastic band found its way onto his bare left wrist.

They had just been idle thoughts (at first) in the wind; there one minute, gone the next, filtering by too quickly to even latch onto. Little urges that were a minute distraction filtering through his brain before his attention was taken onto more immediate things...

Like not getting shot. Or being infused into the passenger seat of his own goddamned car by the G-force of Steve's Speed Racer driving while chasing a suspect through the streets of Honolulu where the end goal was to time how long it took before his bladder simply emptied because it was such a relief to actually be alive by the end of it all and the strain was simply too much—you know ~ the important things.

All were easy to ignore and dismiss as responses to high-distress situations. Adrenaline coursing through him, heart palpitating in his chest, clammy hands (trust him, he wasn't having a mild heart attack; he'd actually asked his doctor vaguely about it in that subtle, manipulative way that detectives have when trying to wheedle information out of a shaken witnesses)—he easily explained the response away as just an entire feeling for the team in such situations and not just Steve.

You know, the... I Could Kiss You verity. Platonically, of course. Grateful-to-be-alive kind of way. Until it wasn't, at least not with Steve. Because the obsessive control freak just had to slither his way into every aspect of Danny's life, nothing was off limits, even if the man himself hadn't a clue.

Everything had been fine, Danny was handling it—till the bastard and his stupid pretty mouth waltzed into his dreams and he'd wake up with a hard-on like he was a horny teenager again. Made him late for work because he couldn't very well go to the office like that, amped up—only to be with Steve all day, forced to stare at his very wet dream in person.

He tested it out to be sure, pulling the pale pink elastic away from the inside of his wrist that he'd found bundling the head of lettuce in his fridge, because really—

"Sonuvabitch!" he squawked in pain, trying to jerk away from the cause of the sharp sting, but wholly unable seeing as it was attached to him.

Getting his shock under control, he rubbed gently at the lightly reddened flesh at the pale inside of his wrist under the doubled-over elastic. Finally, the blood sank back down from the surface of his skin, and his wrist was just as unassuming as before.

It had a surprising kick and would definitely break him from his impossible imaginings. Maybe associating a little pain to the thoughts of kissing Steve would prevent such acts of the man caving his face in with a single, unrelented strike. Because the last thing he needed was to get so lost in his head, that he acted on those fantasies in real life—getting punched in the face by SuperSEAL Steve McGarrett as a result was not something he would ever want to experience.

Satisfied, he set his alarm and got ready for bed.

...

Danny's gaze kept drifting from the road to the light pink band around his left wrist as he drove to 2727 Piikoi St. to pick Steve up. This was actually one of the few times he actually got to drive his own car. It soon wouldn't be that way when he collected the wayward SEAL. Having the pink elastic band around his wrist was an unaccustomed accessory. He was unused to having something around his wrist. He never had been a watch man. That's what his cell was for, the radio in his car, the clock on the wall. He actually kept forgetting that it was actually there, then he'd get a flash of unexpected colour out the corner of his eye, and it was starting to make him self-conscious and fidgety.

So when he did finally pull into Steve's drive, parking and turning off the engine, he buried his hand in his trouser pocket, hiding the rubber band from sight (like the huge neon sign claiming something was up, as he was sure it was) it would be inevitable before Steve asked about it, the only thing he could do was delay as he walked into Steve's rambling house without so much as a knock.

"Yo!" he called, immediately cutting through the living room to the kitchen. Besides the scent of fresh brewed coffee and Steve puttering around to indicate his presence there; Danny probably knew the man's wake-up schedule slash ritual like it was clockwork—because it was.

"Yo, yourself." Steve replied, turning from the cupboard to set a second black mug on the island, because this was like clockwork, too. "Coffee?"

"If you're offering," Danny smiled.

Steve gave his head a light shake and poured two cups from his coffee pot. He slid one across the small island towards the waiting blond. Danny bent over his cup and inhaled the rising steam, his mouth watered at just the aroma of the hot caffeine. "Why is your coffee always better than mine?" Danny complained. He turned and delved into his friend's fridge for the carton of milk.

"Other than the fact that you get your coffee out of used grounds and filters from you complex's dumpsters?" Steve mused. "It's cafetière," he took the spoon from the counter and spooned some butter from the dish, stirring it into his coffee.

Danny turned back in time to watch the man finish stirring and suck on the spoon. The carton almost missed the counter as his gaze was drawn towards the brunette's mouth. His cheek twitched as the band nipped at the inside of his wrist in a flash, out of view from McGarrett in an instant, snapping his gridlock, surprising himself with his sensibility in his first field-run.

"You and your fancy kettle," he snatched the spoon from Steve and used it to stir the dollop of milk into his coffee. "And when are you going to realize that drinking butter in your coffee isn't going to help with your memory or cognitive skills, and instead turn you into a crank with ninja skills and give you cancer?" he took a swallow of his coffee, the liquid just on the underside of scalding because of the milk so he didn't burn his tongue.

"You're so set in your ways, Danno, like an old man." Steve told him. "You're afraid to try anything new."

"Fear, my young Padawan, keeps you alive." Danny scolded him. "It prevents you from rushing into a dangerous situations without thought. Fear is what makes men brave, not stupid."

"You have a fear of f—"

"Fear of getting cancer," he nodded, "Like a rational human being. You," Danny pointed, "Are a Neanderthal animal with just basic instinct, you don't think, you react—and get me shot at."

"I've read reports where dogs have detected things like cancer in their masters and saved their lives." Steve sipped his coffee and nodded at him, "Maybe you should really think about keeping me around."

Danny cocked his head and gave the man a thoughtful look, "You do remind me of a Labrador... and follow me around like a puppy. I have always been a dog-guy."

Steve flashed him a grin and set his mug on the island counter, and much to Danny's countenance, adopted the teasing and playful pose of a dog—tongue out and panting, hips wiggling as if motored by an uncontrollable tail, head canted, his hazel-grey eyes a perfected replication of puppy-dog-eyes.

Danny choked the whimper off with a stranglehold and snapped the elastic around his wrist hard enough that he was sure it would leave a longer-lasting weal, and was actually surprised the band didn't snap. (You cannot kiss him! You are not allowed to kiss him!) he chanted internally, reprimanding himself.

"You're an absolute freak, you animal!" Danny pointed at him firmly with his right hand, his left twisted away from view. "Drink real coffee, before I take you back to the pound!"

Steve chuckled as he straightened back up into his 'human posture'. "You're so sensitive in the mornings, Daniel."

"And one of these days, people are going to believe me when I talk about you." Danny expressed with a little cooler-head. "Can't you just be a normal human being and drink coffee like a regular person?"

Twice in the last two-minutes, and he'd hardly been in Steve presence for four. This was going to be a long day.

...

When they finished their coffees, somehow Danny made it to the Camaro first, and at the realization, dove for the driver's seat. He slammed the door, locked it, and clipped on his seatbelt for good measure. He wouldn't put it passed Steve to try and pull him out.

Steve knocked on the window, a pout puckering his lips. "Danno," he whined.

"My car!" Danny gave him a stern look through the window, snapping the band at his wrist (he's off limits! was the internal declaration) in his lap out of view as Steve gave up and went around the car to slip in the passenger seat and into a view he was unaccustomed.

"You know I get car sick," Steve tried again.

Danny rolled his eyes as he pulled out of the driveway. "You can handle it, babe. I believe in you," he steered with his left hand low of the wheel and his right at the two o'clock position, obscuring the pink band around his wrist from view of his control-freak partner.

...

Chin and Kono were out in the field following up on their latest lead for their case, leaving Danny and Steve to putter around Headquarter, waiting on the cousins' return, hopefully with something that would lead them that much closer to catching their jewellery thieves.

Danny was in his office, his eyes a little glazed at he stared at his computer monitor, his index finger rubbing distractedly at the smooth worn patch on his mouse clicker. He thought he might of had something with the store's online website, that maybe that was what connected the last five places that had been hit—but there was nothing there. The only reason that Five-0 had been tagged into case under the Governor's request, was because the latest place hit, was found with a uncut diamond that did not belong.

Steve was out there, prowling the halls like a bored animal, Danny had caught him passing the bay of windows facing the rest of the office. Steve did not do well with idle, and it was only a matter of time before he came bothering the blond being annoying and pouty and cute and ki—Danny snapped the pink band around his wrist, rolling them off his finger so he was snapped twice with the double wraparound.

A tall, dark and handsome shadow darkened his door. "What's that for?" Steve wondered after catching the man snapping it, not for the first time that morning either.

"What's that for?" Danny returned, cocking a brow at the thick-strapped bulky watch that was always on Steve's left wrist, day-night, land-water; he always thought that thing was too big for its britches.

"You mean this useful piece of hardware?" Steve glanced at his own wrist as he stepped from the door into the detective's office. "Not only does it have the basic functions of telling the time and date, with an alarm. But has other useful features such as: a compass, telling the temperature, waterproof, can monitor depth in water, body temperature and pulse—"

"Uh-huh." Danny nodded. "Does it also tell you when to go to the bathroom? Alert you to stranger-danger? Actually," he waved a hand as if erasing the last suggestion from the air between them, "I think it should alert strangers the danger you provide and advise them to stay away. Now that would have be useful to me when we first met."

He narrowed his eyes. "Best thing about it..." Steve said, and he pinched something on the side and fingers still together, extended his hand back away. "This wire. So when I finally snap, I won't have to scramble around for a weapon to kill you with. It'll be right here," he patted the watch on his wrist, the line retracting. "Within easy reach." He gave that blond a dark grin.

"Very mature."

"I like to be prepared," Steve nodded. "Definitely more useful than that rubber band."

"This is plenty useful," Danny told him, a heavy flowing undercurrent to his meaning that Steve was clueless to and the blond forever hoped it stayed that way. "Trust me,"

Steve furrowed his brows. "Seriously, Danno." He insisted, "What's it for?"

"Ugh!" Danny groaned and rolled his eyes. "If you're going to be such a child about it... it's to help me remember. You know how people sometimes tie a piece of string around their finger? It's sort of like that,"

He looked perplexed, his lips puckering lightly. "Why don't you just write it down?"

Danny snapped the band (bad haole!), "It reinforces the idea." Steve opened his mouth to shoot off another question, when the detective overrode him: "Are you still here?" he blatantly dismissed the taller man, turning his attention to whatever was on his desk, which turned out to be a folder with blank paper, not that Steve needed to know.

Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, looking like a dog catching the passing scent of a bone buried nearby, Steve lingered a moment longer to stare at his partner before he left for the kitchenette.

It wasn't long after that that Kono and Chin returned with a surprising break in their case.

...

By the time he was back in his apartment, the lettuce elastic was loose and worn around his wrist. He honestly hadn't known how many times he thought about kissing Steve McGarrett in a day of work until now. He was actually quite annoyed with himself on the matter.

Grabbing a frozen dinner out of his freezer, he threw it in the microwave because he just wasn't in the mood to put anymore effort into it. As he waited, leaning against the counter, he picked up the sagging pink length around his wrist, twisted it and looped it around his wrist a third time, tightening its hold on him. It should last him the night. He'd just have to figure out a replacement before he got to work, because there was no way the band could handle the stress of another day around Steve.

...

It actually worked out for him. He got a call in the morning on Wednesday from Rachel. It was a half-day at school for Gracie and he was going to get to have her for the night. Not only that, but for whatever reason, his lovely ex was feeling charitable (he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth), and he was getting an extended three-days in addition to his weekend with his little princess.

His morning at the office was a bright one, with only two snaps of the elastic around his wrist when he got drawn into fantasies of kissing his partner. The day before, the lead that the cousins had brought back with them, lead to the arrests of the jewellery thieves/manslaughter suspects. So this morning had just been about crossing the t's and dotting the i's.

He broke away at the lunch hour to pick up Grace from school when it let out for the afternoon, with permission from Steve for the whole team, that with the paperwork completed they had the rest of the day. He took Grace out for lunch, where she happily informed him about her day and the science/art project the class got assigned due Monday next week. That would give them plenty of time. After lunch and some shaved ice, Danny shuttled them into town and to the crafts store that was a need to know for any father with a daughter. He had dual motives off course.

They made it back to his apartment laden with probably more supplies than were necessary—but little girls simply had to have glitter and fathers in denial needed to have an industrial-sized bag of thick, colourful rubber bands, apparently.

They settled Grace's stuff into her room for the week. It was one of the better apartment complexes that he'd lived it. Still in a poor neighbourhood, and a crappy little apartment, but it had two bedrooms—and he had a real bed, lumpy and used as it was. And by the time she was settled and the supplies stowed away for later (his bag of rubber bands tossed into his room after a fresh green-coloured one replaced the lank lettuce one), he whipped something quick up in the kitchen with what was in the fridge and cupboard, before they ate watching a movie.

He hadn't expected to get Grace until the weekend, so he hadn't gone shopping yet. After he picked her up from school tomorrow, they'd go to the market and shop for the week, and then he'd cook her up a Williams Family Recipe.

...

Having Grace that first night had him wholly occupied on his monkey and kept his thoughts from straying to Steve. But with his daughter all tucked in for the night, sleeping soundly as he checked her before calling it a night a bit after eleven, his thoughts drifted while he lay in bed, waiting for sleep to claim him. By the time he fell asleep, his wrist was sore. When he woke up, his alarm set earlier than usual now that Grace was over, he still woke with a stiffy and there were wear marks already on the green band.

He was fresh from the shower, and dressed already, by the time he woke Grace for school. As she used the bathroom herself and dressed in her uniform, he started on breakfast; making her scrambled eggs and toast with his dwindling fridge contents (they really did need to go shopping later today), he contented himself with a black coffee and dollop of milk.

He leaned contently against the counter, watching her happily eat even the simple breakfast, sipping his coffee. No matter what Steve said, he made good eggs. But one thing his partner was right about—his coffee sucked. So it was instant; his serve a simple water kettle and a spoon of the preground beans—not Steve's fancy whole beans that he ground himself and used his pretentious French Press. And his stupid real butter, sucking on that goddamned spoon with his beautiful pouty lips and—

Danny put his half-empty cup in the sink, snapping the band around his wrist (dirty man!), feeling the punishing sting at his lapse. And it wasn't even the first of the morning!

"Done, monkey?" he took her plate and put it in the sink. "Wash up and we'll go." He told her. While she ran off to do that, he went back to his bedroom and got his gun and badge, and stuffed a handful of rubber bands into his light trouser pants. By the time he returned, she was already waiting at the door with her backpack.

Thoughts drifting briefly in the idle silence as he pulled into the line at a red light, a glance at the clock told him that Steve would have already gone through his morning ritual of a swim—water cascading down his fit, trunk-clad body as he rose from the water like a goddamned demigod—

"Danno?" Grace glanced at her dad questioningly when they didn't move.

Danny jolted out of his reverie with a snap of the band on his wrist (you are not allowed to think these things! he scolded himself), and his foot pressed on the gas at the green light and empty lane ahead. It hadn't even been about the brunette's lips, but his entirety.

"Sorry, monkey. I got a little distracted."

It was just a simple (if inappropriate) appreciation of a ridiculously fit man's physique. He tried to push the thought away. His boss, partner, and best-friend. The man was not allowed to be anything else.

With a hug and parting kiss to her forehead, Grace was dropped off at school and Danny headed back to work, stopping briefly for a take-out coffee and something decidedly unhealthy for his breakfast to stuff his frustrations away with.

He tried to remind himself that this was literally only the third day in this stupid scheme, and that it would take time for result, if any. But it was a little hard when it seemed there was a resurgence of fantasies and occurrences of wanting to kiss Steve—a fact proven right as he came into HQ, to be floored as he came across the very man putting on ChapStick!

What was his life coming to, that McGarrett putting on ChapStick and smacking his lips was a turn on to him? His balls couldn't possibly be that blue! Certainly not with the way he'd been spending his time in his morning showers lately. It was fucking exhausting.

Danny snapped the thick green rubber band on his wrist, grimacing at the sting on his skin, adding more stretch marks to it as he snapped it again for double measure. (Why?! damn you to hell, McGarrett, and your stupid pretty lips!)

His eyes widened as he saw Steve hand the ChapStick back to Kono, who slipped it into her pocket. "Did you two just share ChapStick?"

Steve blinked. "Oh. Hey, Danno." He was only apparently just noticed. "Drop Grace off alright?"

"Of course I dropped her off alright and don't change the subject." Danny responded. "Did you two," he swung a demanding finger between the Lt. Commander and Officer, "Just. Share. ChapStick? Answer the question."

The two shared amused looks.

"Why, yes, Daniel, we did." Steve replied.

"Want some, brah?" Kono queried, a grin accentuating her lips. Her dark gaze flickered to his mouth, "They're looking a little chapped."

Danny licked his lips self-consciously as he glowered at them. "No, I don't want to use your ChapStick. Does it look like I want a second-hand McGarrett kiss?"

Kono quirked a brow, and she got that devious gleam in her eye as she was getting ready to sit back for some Grade A McDanno Drama: "Does that mean you want a first-hand kiss?"

"No, I want a no-hand kiss!" Danny scowled at Steve's mirrored smirk. He snapped the band around his wrist again. (Why are you jealous? You are NOT allowed to be jealous!) "But are you offering, Miss Kalakaua?" Danny gave the woman an especially exaggerated leer, pulling the topic off kissing Steve.

"I'm way out of your league, brah." Kono smiled. "I'd eat you alive."

"Yeah, Williams." Chin interjected in a very convincing warning tone, joining them. "Don't make me break out my Stay Away From My Cousin Brass Knuckles."

Danny turned to him as Steve and Kono snickered. "You have a pair of knuckle-dusters?"

Chin raised a brow. "You don't?"

"Um... no." He looked around at the chuffed noises around him. "What? Am I the only normal person on this team? On this island? You guys all have a pair of knuckle-dusters?"

"Definitely, brah."

"Of course."

"Definitely. Of course." Danny threw up his hands. "Why? Why do these things surprise me anymore?"

"Guess you never had to chase off a no-good, good-for-nothing lolo dog away." Chin summarized.

"I have two sisters." Danny reminded them all. "And did I need a pair of brass knuckles? No. A good old Jersey beating got the message through just fine. Didn't need to hide behind brass knuckles."

"Alright, brother. I can dig," Chin told him.

Danny gave a firm nod. "Now, tell me there's some scumbag out there that needs a good-helping of justice and the cold steal of my handcuffs?"

"One helping of scumbag soon to come." Chin gave an easy grin as he played with the screen of the Smart table and the rest of a team crowded around. "But first... meet our victim ~"

...

The four of them spent the rest of the day following the evidence and chasing old leads turned new on the return of an old Missing Persons. Before they left the office, Danny was wise enough to switch out the wearing green band, for a newer, thick red rubber band from the handful he'd stuffed into his trouser pocket before leaving his apartment that morning to drop Grace off.

By the time it was rounding three, and Steve let him go early to pick up Grace from school, there was already a white wear mark in the rubber band.

"Hey, monkey!" Danny greeted his daughter at the sidewalk beyond the steps at the front of the school with the other students and parents, bending to give her a happy hug. "How was your day?"

"Danno!" she grinned up at him, taking his hand as they walked across the pick-up lane to his waiting Camaro in a nearby parking spot. "During lunch, Jessica's milk exploded in her lunch box and I shared some of mine with her."

Danny smiled at her. "That was very sweet of you, Grace." God, how had he had a hand in raising such an amazing kid? He got her settled into the front, seatbelt on. He ran one of her pigtails through his hand before standing up and shutting the door.

Settled in his own seat and starting the car, he asked: "What do you say we go the market and when we get back home, I'll make you one of Grandma's recipes?"

"Can we have chicken parmesan penne?" Grace asked. She gasped, "And the-the... that yummy bread in the oven!"

He chuckled. "That was what you were aiming for from the start, wasn't it?" she looked at him with wide, innocent, guilty doe-eyes. "Had you pegged from the beginning." He teased.

"Danno!"

He chucked her lightly under the chin. "Anything you want, monkey."

...

Danny blinked back to reality as he felt her small hand land on top of his right hand at his left wrist, where it had been about to snap at the red rubber band—and probably not for the first time since they'd settled onto the floor in the cleared space in his small living room. They'd had supper, and had worked some on the diagram for her art project for school. But instead of watching a little television before bed, Grace had talked him into playing one of the old board games he had around the apartment. Clue! and it was the closest he was ever going to let his daughter get to crime solving.

He had a stupid idle flashback to Steve and Kono's damn ChapStick. He knew that visual was going to follow him into his dreams, he was sure. McGarrett, the persistent animal, using ChapStick. Danny was definitely taking it with a personal affront.

"Sorry, monkey." He said. "My turn?" he gave the board a perusal, smoothing his hair with his right hand.

But Grace didn't remove her smaller hand from where it now lay on his left wrist, over the red band. "Danno? Why are you hurting yourself?" She was giving him such an adult look of worry that should NOT be on her young face, least of all because of him, directed at him.

"Grace." The board was instantly shoved out of the way and he scooped her up into his lap. "I'm not hurting myself, not really."

"But it looks like it hurts," she told him.

"It does hurt," he whispered. "But it's supposed to."

"Why?"

Danny was quiet for a moment as he tried to order his thoughts in a way to explain that she would understand, but not utterly reveal the adult themes of the matter and show her how unworthy her Danno was. She gazed up at him with big eyes, waiting. Finally, he looked down at her, brushing back the stray hairs that had escaped her pigtails over the long day from her forehead.

"Do you know when you do something bad, something that you shouldn't... and you get punished for it?" he asked and she nodded. "Well, it's kind of like that. But this," he held up his wrist with the red rubber band around it, "It's like a preventative from me doing something bad. Do you understand?"

She took his wrist gently in both her hands. "You want to do something bad?"

Danny thought that kissing Steve would probably be wonderful—until Steve shoved him away, punched him, kicked him out of Five-0, and then broke off their friendship. He needed to think of the worst so he was prepared. He wasn't going to let himself be as unprepared as he was with what had happened between Rachel and him, even though he knew he should have seen it coming. He would do everything in his life to prevent that from happening between Steve and him.

"Yeah, baby."

"What bad thing do you want to do?" she gently rubbed at Danny's tender wrist.

Danny don't know why he said it, cursed himself for doing it. Lying. But he couldn't take it back now. "Smoking." It was a little white lie, but he was feeling more than a little guilt in lying to his daughter. But it wasn't like he could just tell her that he was craving her Uncle Steve's lips instead of a hit of nicotine. They were both oral fixations, so it would have to do.

"Smoking." She repeated. "That's bad, Danno."

"I know, monkey." He agreed. "And whenever I get the urge to... smoke, I just snap the band and it makes me not want to do it." At least for a little while, until the next inevitable McGarrett Lips Moment.

He'd tried smoking once, and only once. His mom had caught him, of course. Flushed it down the toilet. Was grounded for a week. Double chores. His dad rode his ass. And his mom had even given him a few swats to the backside. He'd been fourteen, humiliated, and never touched the cancer sticks again.

He put a finger under her chin and rose her face until she was looking at him. "You can't tell mommy, okay? It'll make her worried." More like Rachel would see something was up because she knew he didn't smoke, and then probably take away his next weekend with Grace. "Can you do that? Keep this between just us?"

After a moment of contemplation she finally nodded, but concern still glossed her eyes.

He petted her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It'll be alright, monkey. I'm fighting the good fight and I think I'm winning." He winked at her with a grin, and felt relief when a little smile twitched at the corners of her mouth a little. "Now, go brush your teeth, I think it's about time for bed."

"But the game," she protested.

And they both looked at the board, shoved aside and the piece strewn. "I thinks it a lost cause," he mused.

"But now we'll never know who the killer was!"

"I guess this is just one crime that won't be solved." He told her solemnly. "Now up you get, time for bed!" he picked her from his lap and stood her up, ticking her ribs lightly.

"Aw!" she pouted, trying not to giggle. "But I'm not tired!"

"Get moving before the Bedtime Cops come calling!" he told her.

She giggled at the threat, but got moving. While she did that, he packed up the board game, but not before peeking into the little envelope where the true killer lay. "Mrs White, in the Library, with straight razor. Damn, you're one crazy lady, Mrs White. Got you red-handed too." If he couldn't guess the culprit for a murder in a board game, he would be a pretty shitty detective.

He climbed to his feet with a little groan, the hard floor never did him any favours after a long period, stretching his back out as he toed the board game box out of the way under the coffee table with a barefoot.

"Toilet, brushed, flossed, mouthwash?" Danny questioned his daughter, coming into her room.

"Mm-hm!" she nodded, in a nightgown with a miniature Sponge Bob Square Pant's Pineapple House adorning the front and a Giant Gary climbing it. Gary: Meow.

"Alright. Sweet dreams, monkey." He tucked her in, giving her a hug and a kiss, before turning off the light and leaving the door ajar.

...

The next day, Friday, when three o'clock came and it was time to go pick up Grace from school, Steve somehow managed to tag along—in the driver's seat, no less. Classic control-freak McGarrett. Never mind that it was Danny's car, or that they were picking up Danny's daughter.

"You know, this would be very emasculating to a lesser man." Danny told his partner.

Steve raised a brow. "Are you feeling emasculated, Danny?"

"I said to a lesser man!"

"Well, then... what are you worried about?"

"This is my car! My daughter!" Danny fumed. "I should be driving!"

"Yeah, but I'm the better driver."

"The better driver, he says." Danny scoffed. "Yeah, if we were in a death race in Mad Max! You don't know the meaning of speed limit, school zone, and yellow light! You should not be allowed to drive small children, any children really."

"Danny, I would never do anything to endanger Grace. Never." Steve told him sincerely.

Danny snapped the new yellow rubber band (can't have!) that he'd put on this morning, running a hand over his hair because, saying stuff like that really made the blond want to kiss him on his stupid, sexy mouth. "Yeah, well, just keep the peddle from the metal, buddy. Alright?"

Steve fitted the Camaro into the pick-up line easily, along with the other parents. When he parked, both men got out, searching for Grace among the other similar uniformed students that were milling around the front steps of the school waiting for their parents. It was the girl that spotted them first.

"Uncle Steve!" her exuberance was extra as she spotted the tall brunette next to her father. She ran to the two men and threw herself into Steve's open arms.

"Gracie!" he had a huge smile splitting his face as he swung the girl around. "I've missed you!" he told her as she tightened her arms around his neck, giggling.

Danny watched them and gave the band a little snap at his wrist. Watching them together always made him melt, and what he wouldn't give if he could just throw his arms around the pair of them and never let go. Grace and Steve, they were the top of his life on this miserable rock. Yet, he could never have it how he really wanted it.

"What am I over here, huh?" Danny questioned when Steve finally set the girl back onto her own two feet. "I'm getting sad over here." Steve chuckled lightly at his drama.

"Danno!" Grace cried, grinning as she jumped into her dad's arms.

"That's better!" Danny grinned when she gave him a smooch on the cheek.

"Love you, Danno."

"Love you, too, monkey." He set her back on her feet, smoothing her loose hair from her face as he knelt on a knee in front of her.

"Love you, too, Uncle Steve!" Grace told the tall man.

"Love you back, Gracie."

Danny slid her backpack from her slim shoulders, taking it in hand. "Yeah," he murmured in agreement with his daughter, looking over her head at his partner, who beamed at him in return.

He didn't bother to snap the band around his wrist this time, as he took one of Grace's hand and Steve took her other, and they walked through the crosswalk and the short distance to the waiting Camaro.

Grace got settled into the back, and Danny let Steve take the wheel. But instead of Steve driving to his house and then Danny driving back to his with Grace, they drove to Kamekona's truck for dinner at the beach park. Danny, his favourite garlic shrimp; Steve barbequed shrimp; and Grace one of Shamu's weird pineapple shrimp recipes.

Danny snapped the rubber band only three times the two hours they actually spent at the truck, first eating shrimp for dinner, and then shaved ice for dessert, before Danny would drop Steve home, then go back to his apartment with Grace.

But not before Steve said: "Beach. Barbeque. Beers. My place tomorrow? What do you think, Gracie? But no beers for you, of course, just me and Danno." He added smoothly at Danny's glare.

"Yay!" Grace cheered. "Can we go to Uncle Steve's tomorrow, Danno? Please, please, please?"

Grace pleaded with him, and Steve looked at him as if in bated breath. Grace really loved Steve, but she got to see him even less than she got to see Danny. Usually, the only times were like now when they had to carpool to pick the girl up, or when it was Danny's weekend and Steve invited them over.

He sighed. Steve invited them, and as much as it was easier to deny his partner and his stupid distracting lips, he never could say no to his baby girl. "Of course we can go, monkey. Uncle Steve invited us, didn't he?"

Grace gave a happy little squeal and gave him a quick hug before getting up and running around the table to give Steve one of his own.

...

"Now we'll see who's the better driver, huh?" Danny said, in the driver's seat of the Camaro as he pulled out of the lot, referring to his and Steve's earlier cargument.

"Uncle Steve." Grace said promptly from the backseat as Danny pulled into traffic, before even Steve could lay comment. The brunette grinned at the answer.

"What? What do you mean 'Uncle Steve'?" Danny repeated, staring at his daughter through the rear view as Steve chuckled next to him.

She shrugged. "You've been distracted lately." She said honestly.

He saw her gaze flicker in the mirror where she sat behind Steve, with he knew, a clear view of the yellow band on his left wrist where he held the wheel—which was totally Steve's fault, by the way; not that anyone knew it besides himself.

He shot a glance at Steve, who was openly watching him (catching that buried bone scent again). Danny ignored it, and turned his attention back onto the direct conversation. "No no no." He tutted. "Listen to me, Gracie... Uncle Steve is an animal, okay? He's rabid. He barks, and mostly bites. It's not healthy. He drives like a Speed Racer for no reason." He waved his hand, "How can you think that he's a better driver than Danno?"

"He doesn't drive that way with me."

"I don't drive that way with her," Steve agreed, amusement sparking his hazel-grey eyes.

Great, so it's some special infliction directed solely at me. He muttered to himself, not that he wasn't grateful that the Navy Reservist took special care with his monkey. Danny gave the man next to him a look, "What— what you doing? You don't get to commiserate with my daughter... about me. That's our thing about you. Okay?" supplication

Steve held up his hands in placation. "I was just agreeing with your daughter, man. My bad," he put a hand briefly to his chest in apology.

Danny narrowed his eyes as he pulled into Steve's drive next to his dark blue Silverado. "You were taught to drive by a dog, okay. I don't understand how this island gave you a license. I don't,"

"To be fare, it's the same license I left with."

"Are you kidding me?" Danny demanded.

"Yeah, Danno. I am." Steve shook his head at the man with a grin, and his always entertaining jump-the-trigger over reactions. "Of course I had to retake the test when I cam back to the island, just like you had to when you moved here."

Danny stared at him silently for a moment. "Get out, Steven." He pointed, as if the SEAL didn't know his way out of the parked Camaro.

"Danno!" Grace cried out a sudden protest, unbuckled and leaning through between the two front seats on the center consol.

"What are you doing, monkey?"

"I like Uncle Steve," she said, and Steve smiled in response, watching her.

"I know you do." He said patiently.

"He barks and bites other people," she told Danno reasonably. "But he doesn't bite us." And she turned to Steve, watching her tenderly, as she reached up and to both men's amusement and fondness, started to pet the man's hair as if he actually were a dog like Danny had commented.

"Your point, monkey." Danny prompted her, watching the scene with the feeling of insane jealousy. Grace could do something like that and no one would give it a second thought—but if he went and tried that...

"Can we keep him, Danno? Please?" she implored her father.

Steve adopted a cute puppy-dog look (like he had in his kitchen just a few days earlier), leaning into Grace's stroking hand. Danny snapped the band around his wrist to get any inappropriate thoughts out of his head, but he contemplated them with a very serious consideration.

"Danno?" she asked anxiously, as if she believed that he would say no—that he could say no—to either of them, really.

Even if they hadn't the double-whammy of giving him full-blown puppy-dog eyes (that would have a hardened serial killer changing their ways in a heartbeat and chasing the rainbow of good-heartedness. Not that he liked either of them in the same room as a dedicated killer); he still wouldn't have been able to say no.

Danny finally broke her pending commiseration with a heavy, put-upon sigh, "Of course we can keep him," He got a twin pair of goofy grins and happy giggles for his answer. "Now, say goodbye to Uncle Steve so we can go to bed, wake up, and come see him all the sooner tomorrow, alright?"

Grace nodded rapidly, twisting on the consol armrest, and wrapping her arms around Steve's neck, dragging him down. Hands under her arms, Steve easily lifted her around, and wrapped her in a warm hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay, sweetie." He kissed her hair.

"Can't we just stay here?" Grace questioned, "So we can see Uncle Steve the rest of the day and tomorrow?" her cheek was pressed to the man's shoulder as she looked at Danno.

"Aw, monkey." Danny squeezed her hip comfortingly where her legs still lay sprawled across the consol. "Uncle Steve has to go to bed early too, if he wants to be ready for tomorrow. Now," he addressed Steve, "Give me my daughter, you Neanderthal." Amusement sparked his blue eyes, "She's mine and you can't have her."

Danny held open his arms and Steve squeezed the precious girl a little tighter. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gracie, and I'll have a special dessert made just for you—I'll make it myself. How does that sound?"

Grace kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Okay!"

And he literally handed her back to her father before he climbed out of the car. "See you guys tomorrow!"

Grace scooted back over into the now empty front passenger seat, buckling in very happily, excited for tomorrow.

"Bye, Steven." Danny called through the open window to his partner. "And remember, it's us keeping you." He started to car.

Steve paused by the side of the car on his walk, bending over to peer clearly through the window. "House trained, too." He winked.

"I should think so, Steve." Danny snapped the rubber band around his wrist. "You're a grown-butt man."

"Butt?" Steve laughed, knowing it was Danny trying to not swear around the impressionably ten-year-old. He stood, waved once more to Grace, and backed up his walk to his front porch as Danny pulled from his drive. Grace gave him a big wave in return.

...

It had been an affair getting Grace to bed. He couldn't get her calmed enough to fall asleep by herself over the prospect of going over to Steve's tomorrow (not unless he slipped a little NyQuil in her glass of warm milk; and as fast acting as that might be, he could never drug his baby like that [even thinking about it made him feel like a bad father]), so he let her wear herself out, and ended up carrying her to bed at midnight.

And still, she woke up at eight, despite it being a Saturday (just like any kid on Christmas Morning), for which Danny thought he'd be able to at least sleep in until nine, ten if he was lucky. But still in her pyjamas, Grace had barrelled into his bedroom and jumped on his bed, crowing for him to wake up so they could go to Uncle Steve's already!

"It's too early, Grace." He groaned, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow. "Go back to sleep. Danno needs an extra hour or two."

Grace harrumphed principally, and flopped on him in frustration. She huffed and puffed impatiently for five minutes, by ten, her breaths softened and he knew her burst of wake-up excitement had briefly expended, fell back asleep for the moment. Smirking into his pillow, he drifted back to sleep to her light, warm weight across his back.

...

Now, here they were, having had a light brunch, the girl was eagerly awaiting going to Uncle Steve's for beach and barbeque and the man's charming company.

"Come on, Danno!" Grace called to her father that Saturday, just after noon, waiting impatiently at the door. She has her one-piece bathing suit on under a pair of slim shorts and a t-shirt from when Steve gave him the tickets to the Hilton to take Grace swimming with a dolphins.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he told her, coming into the living room from the hall. "You sound more and more like your mother every day, monkey." Despite the tension that still lingered in their relationship, Rachel would always be an amazing woman, and if Grace even turned out to be half her mother, she would be remarkable.

"You take longer than Mommy when she and Stan go to their fancy dinners." Grace told him.

"This hair just doesn't happen overnight, monkey." Danny ruffled her pigtails. "We can't all just throw it into a ponytail and be done with it."

"Hey!" she protested, but giggled lightly when he bopped her on the nose.

"I thought you said you wanted to go to Uncle Steve's," he asked playfully. "What's the hold up?"

"You!"

"Oh, I'm ready, babe, just waiting on you."

"Danno!"

"Come on, come on, come on!" he herded her out the door playfully, taking the packed tote in hand and locking the apartment behind him.

...

Taking the habit from her father, Grace burst into the McGarrett home through the front door without so much as a knock—and what would have been a pretty hard header into Steve, had he not been utterly prepared for such a Williams' barrage into his home at the sound of the Camaro pulling into the drive—was avoided as he swung her easily up into the air like she was a toddler instead of a ten-year-old.

"Eh!" Danny had on a very stern expression (finger raised, of course) as both Steve and Grace froze, staring at him, her still held aloft in the air over his head. "Mind the child, huh? I only have the one, I'll have you know."

Steve and Grace glanced back at each other before breaking out into quiet laughter. But he set her down, and Danny let a light smile graze his lips as he closed the door behind him and set the tote bag beside the couch.

"Looking good, Danno." Steve said, taking in the casual wear of the usually uptight-ly dressed detective.

Danny narrowed his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in automatic defence. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" he demanded, affronted. He was wearing a dark gray tee, navy blue casual pants rolled up at the ankles, with a pair of slip-ons (no socks included).

Steve rolled his eyes. "Did I say something was wrong? No. I gave you a compliment, Daniel. Now say thank you. You don't want to be teaching this precious angel bad manners, now do you?" he had his arm around her little shoulders and she leaned happily against his side.

"Thank you, Steven." He managed to grit out.

"And?" Steve added, way too amused as he waited. "It's only nice to say something back."

"You look..." Danny looked at the man... in his flip-flops, colliding blue swim trunks, and a tank with open sides that exposed his torso (like those really sexy dresses that have a split up the skirt, revealing very sexy things [but for men]). "Like you usually do." Hot, sexy, mouth-watering. Danny snapped the pale blue band around his wrist.

"Wow. Alright."

Danny gave a sudden clap. "I thought you wanted to go swimming, monkey?" he changed the subject.

Grace perked up against Steve's side, like she had actually forgotten about swimming at Steve's private little beach, just content to lean against Steve's side. Danny snapped the band again; it was inappropriate to be jealous of his daughter lounging against his partner's side (especially when his own thoughts weren't so innocent).

"Can we? can we? can we?" she asked excitedly, grabbed Steve's hand from around her shoulder, looking up at him.

"I don't know, Gracie..." Steve said, frowning in tease, "The sun is bright, it's warm out, the water's nice... why would you want to go swim in that?"

"Uncle Steve!" Grace cried out, in exactly the same way she did with Danno when he was being an utter goof.

A grin started to spread across Steve's face, the one that said I'm-going-to-do-something-fun-and-will-probably-no-defintely-annoy-Danno-which-will-of-course-make-it-even-more-fun!

"Atch!" Danny hissed, stalling Steve for a few precious moments. He looked at his daughter, hands on his hips, "You're wearing a bathing suit for a reason, monkey."

Grace quickly shed her shorts and shirt, leaving her in a one-piece, kicking of her cute little pink flip-flops with their yellow flowers on the toe strap.

"Now?" she asked as Danny bent to dutifully pick up her abandoned outfit, and coming up to find Steve's tank discarded on his head (like he'd just remembered that he was wearing other clothing besides his swim trunks as well).

Danny got a whiff of Steve, which he liked way too much, before he yanked to shirt off his head (definitely messing his hair by the chuckles he got) and glared at the man. "Do I look like your parent, you over-grown man-child?" he dumped the clothes onto the couch, snapping the band (because no shirt!) and smoothing his hair back in place.

Steve gave him a cheeky smile before he suddenly turned, scooping up Grace into his arms. She gave a happy-surprise shriek. "Now!" and he ran from the living room, kicking off his own large flip-flops, out through the open lanai doors, jumping off the porch into small patch of grass outlining the deck, and chugged the short stretch of sand towards the water. Grace's laughter and shrieks of joy were jerky as she bounced along in her Uncle's arms, thrown over his shoulder.

He hit the water at a jog, splashing, sending water everywhere. It was only when he hit above-knee depth, did he shift his grip on the girl. Large hands warm and secure at her waist—he tossed her into the water.

She gave a scream, slashing into the water, sending Danny's heart to a screeching halt until a quick few seconds later, she popped back up, laughing and happy—and restarting her father's heart.

"Are your trying to give me a coronary?" Danny called from the lanai. "She's not a rag doll, Steve!"

Danny slapped his hand over his face. Steve may think that tossing Grace up into the air and then tossing her into the water were two different concepts, but they were not. Were not. He always trusted Steve to catch her, absolutely. But that was beside the point. Beside the principle.

"She's not a China Doll, either!" Steve called back happily, splashing in the water with Grace.

Danny sighed, plopped down on one of the deck chairs, pulled out a Longboard from the pack he'd brought and cracked it open, relaxing as he happily watched the pair.

...

Danny found the pale blue rubber band around his wrist had gained stress marks fast as the sun grew lower in the sky and Steve finally started the barbeque up.

First, it started with Steve simply in the water with Grace. Then, how stupidly sexy the brunette looked emerging from the ocean like a goddamned half-relation to Poseidon himself. Even when Danny finally kicked off his shoes and joined the pair in the sand to build an epic sandcastle; Steve looking just so happy and light-hearted (making him even more handsome than his usual brooding and pensive shell) set off the band.

They ate out on the lanai; kebobs and corn on the cob. When they were finished, they just relaxed in the Adirondack chairs laid in the sand. Danny and Steve with a couple of cold Longboards, and Grace with fizzy lemonade. The girl laid between her father's legs, back in her shorts and tee and a light zipper-sweater Danny had packed in the tote as the sun was setting and it became just that bit more cooler.

Steve and Grace were chatting, Danny hadn't been paying much attention as to about what. He just allowed their happy voices tto let him drift, quiet the waves brushing up to shore twelve feet away (that weren't quite as annoying at the moment). His two people were content and safe, both before his eyes, so he was content himself. There was no colossal thing of perpetual disquiet because he'd be out working with Steve and Grace was far away; or he was with Grace, but didn't know what the trouble-magnet McGarrett was up to.

It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to kiss Steve. Just an engraved caring and love for his Neanderthal SuperSEAL partner and best-friend. Until it shifted into that at the moment of reminding himself that these were platonic feelings—sucking himself back into Vortex of Steve's Lips again.

Danny's gaze drifted from Steve's eyes to the man's lips as he paused in breath to lick his lips before he continued to talk, Danny's own tongue unconsciously mirrored the action. Beer buried in the sand next to low chair, Danny was hands-free as he snapped band against his sore wrist where they lay on his abdomen.

Grace twisted around in her space between his legs, sitting up with her knees underneath her. There was a confusion to her light head tilt as she glanced at Steve and then her Danno. "Uncle Steve makes you want to do the bad habit?" she wondered quietly in worry, in front of Steve no less.

In hindsight, when they had that first conversation about not telling Rachel about this, maybe he should have included Uncle Steve in that request. Truth was, he didn't think his weekend with her was going to end up with a BBQ at Steve's.

Danny tensed as he looked at her. From the corner of his eye, he could have sworn that Steve's nose actually twitched like the animal that he was, getting another whiff of that insistent buried bone that was Danny's secret as he trailed off into the quiet.

Danny couldn't be mad at her. He knew she was just concerned for him, like one was wont to do, even for an ten-year-old, because surely this was not a healthy thing for a thirty-four-year-old grown man to be doing. Nor was the fact that he wanted to kiss Steve, hug Steve, just fucking hold Steve (it was far from friendship-innocent). And his abused wrist (especially tonight) could attest to how unhealthy this frequency of want was.

"What bad habit?" Steve finally questioned when Danny continued his apparent vow of silence, looking to Grace for answers instead of the blond (the bastard!).

"Smoking." Grace told him before Danny could stop her.

"Smoking?" Steve's brows flickered in surprise, before they furrowed in confusion. "Danno doesn't smoke, Grace."

Danny knew he needed to stop this, but it was like his vocal cords were injected with lidocaine.

"He wants to when he's around you, Uncle Steve." Grace responded truthfully, not understanding just how much Danny wished she would stop— that he could stop her. "You make him want to smoke."

Steve glanced from Grace to Danny, still confused and a little hurt now around the edges of his hazel-grey eyes. "I do?"

Grace went to open her mouth again, to spill more of Danny's dark little secret without the knowledge that she wasn't really supposed to, when Danny was finally jerked from the joint-lock with a pursuant gush of adrenaline.

"That's enough, monkey. It's getting late," without even fully realizing it, he was on his feet, Grace in his arms with her back to his chest and an arm wrapped around her waist. He just needed to get out of there! "Say goodnight to Uncle Steve." He set her on her feet.

"It's not even eight, Danny." Steve protested, having mirrored Danny in standing from the chair. "We haven't even had the dessert I made special for tonight." But he picked up the girl in a hug and they both looked at the stalled blond.

"Danno?" Graced asked in small voice. "Can't we stay?"

"Danno?" Steve asked.

Danny smoothed an almost shaky hand through his hair. He could do this. He didn't want to ruin Grace's weekend with him (and Steve) because her old pop couldn't keep his shit together. He took a deep breath and dropped his hand, not looking directly at either, but the small space between their heads. "Okay, we can stay." And to break the tension, his right hand came up and pointed an accusing finger between the pair, "And this combination of sad puppy-dog eyes?—should be considered an act of coercion. Right?"

That at least managed to coax some small smiles from the pair. Steve set Grace back down and she hugged Danny around the waist, her face buried in his stomach. Petting her loose hair, he bent and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Steve watched them silently. There was relief that lined the Commander's face, but now it was accompanied by concern and that need to know what was going on with his best-friend. What had caused such a reaction. What the reminder behind each snap of that blue band was.

Danny could feel the stare.

"Grace," Steve murmured. "Why don't you go inside and get the plates ready so we can have that dessert, huh?" he suggested.

"Okay!" giving Danno one last squeezed, she ran through the sand barefoot, up on the lanai, and into the house through the double doors.

"Steve," Danny groaned, reluctantly looking to the very man and away from his daughter's fast path. He knew that he wouldn't just be able to brush this aside now that it had been brought up.

Steve had located that soft patch in the ground, and now he was just going to start digging until he could get his teeth around that bone that had been alluding him all week. The only question now, was if Danny could sell the man a lie, or would he have to confess the truth. The only consolation of the moment was that Grace had been sent away for the moment, because he did not want his baby to see her Uncle Steve sucker punch her Danno. It would break her little heart. It would break his heart too.

"Danny," he voiced quietly, finally.

"Steve," Danny replied with a stone's throw of a voice.

"Danny," never taking his eyes from the blond.

"Steven!" Danny finally snapped. "I'm not in the mood to Danny-Steve all night long."

Steve took a deep breath. "You don't smoke."

"Contrary to your delusional belief and your continued consternation whenever a shard of truth is revealed, you don't actually know every little thing about me."

Let him believe it was smoking, Danny begged internally. He knew he was going to have to somehow convince Steve though. But the thing about Danny, was that he knew how to talk. To confuse, to misdirect with fast projectile-vomit of silver-tongued words.

"I know." Steve said with certain conviction, unwavering.

"No, Steven. You don't. Okay?" his right hand slashed between them. "For once, can you just let it go? It's private, okay? It's personal. You know what that means, don't you? Wait," he paused, sarcastic, "Look who I'm talking to, of course you don't know. Personal and private of two things lacking in that goofy head of yours. Well, I'll tell you what it means," he continued in a condescending tone, "It means... IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Get it?" He dusted his hands, "There, today's lesson is over. How about that dessert?"

"You don't smoke, Danny." Steve grasped the blond's shoulder as the detective turned, intent on making his way inside and utterly ignoring this, stopping him. "Other than the fact that I know you don't simply because I know you wouldn't do something as useless and as unhealthy around Grace as smoking." He squeezed the man's shoulder gently in a warm, steady pressure. "We're partners, best-friends. I can see this—what you won't admit out loud to me—is eating at you. You can tell me. You know you can trust me. You're hurting yourself, Danno. You're worrying Grace. You're worrying me." He exhaled. "I know.

Danny wanted to scream, pull his hair out, anything. Because Steve didn't know! He could pull away easily, he knew Steve would let him go (though reluctantly) if he did. But he didn't. He was just suddenly exhausted, sick of this. It was like the pressure of it was building and made his ears pop.

"It's you!" Danny snapped. "Happy now?" Steve let go of his shoulder in surprise, and suddenly, it was like he could move again. "This is your fault! Like with everything else, I'm sure. With your face and lips and your everything else!" he waved at the man.

Danny was left a little out of breath, pacing tightly in front of Steve in the small space between both chair, kicking up sand.

Steve was still, quiet, eyes dutifully tracking the flustered, irate blond. Danny watched as his friend developed a shade of his constipated look, but his lips were doing this thing that he'd never seen before and he was not happy about it.

Danny halted and snapped the blue band around his wrist sharply. "See? There you go, doing it again!" his tone was exasperated. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" he threw up his hands in defeat. "We done here?"

Steve's hand shot out, and grabbed the man's left forearm still in the short space between them—and there was this expression on his face. Danny froze.

"Danny," Steve said in a low voice. He was looking at Danny intently, like he was scoping out a target. The house was quiet; the waves crashed onto the beach to wash out their respective pounding heartbeats.

Danny closed his eyes, because this was it. Steve realized that Danny wanted to kiss him. He just hoped that Grace would stay in the house a little longer so she didn't see her Uncle Steve drop Danno like a sack of spud.

"I know." This time, the repeated phrase had a whole other inflection and took on a entirely different meaning. "And it okay."

It was a minute before the meaning of the words, the tone, finally sunk in for the Jersey-native. Had it been there this whole time, and he'd just been too melt-down to notice it?

Danny slowly opened his eyes and looked at Steve, bathed from the light fixture on the lanai—either expecting that sucker punch or...

The blond gulped and stared, voice stuck in his throat. It wasn't anger or hatred that darkened Steve's hazel-grey eyes like Danny had always predicted when this moment eventually came around. It was something different all together, definitely something the detective never thought he would see reflected in the Commander's eyes back at him. It was—

Danny couldn't move, just watch as Steve shifted his hold on his forearm, turning his inner arm to face upward—his other hand carefully plucked up the blue band from the side of his wrist and gently peeled it from Danny's wrist. He dropped the stretch-marked rubber band into the sand amid their bare feet.

"That's not very good for the environment," Danny finally managed to croak out of a tight throat, still staring (shocked really) at the taller man. "What if a baby duck comes along?"

"Duckling," Steve mildly corrected in a quiet voice. "I think it will be alright." With a flick of his foot, he buried the offending object temporarily in the sand and out of sight.

Not knowing what to do, Danny just stood there, his blue-gaze flickering across Steve's face: his hazel-grey eyes, the crinkle at their corners, the raised corners of his lips, the line of his nose, the shade of the shadow across his chin. "Um..."

"Danny," Steve gave a light chuckle. He watched the blond carefully, closely, as he slowly rose the man's arm between them, shifting his hand's position marginally, and manipulating the limb under his full control. He turned his face towards the appendage.

Danny shivered lightly as he felt Steve's warm breath caress over his skin. The tip of his nose brushed a short distance to his wrist like he was a vampire, not taking his gaze from the Jersey man. And then he turned into the abused wrist and his lips (those fucking beautiful lips) gently pressed to the reddened, sore, sensitive inside of his mistreated wrist. This afternoon and evening had not been kind to Danny's wrist. His tongue laved warm against sensitive flesh, before his lips curled around the side of Danny's wrist, under the joint of his thumb, sucking a hickey into existence.

Holy shit! All that snapping to his wrist had all somehow accumulated up and gave him a concussion. Or maybe this was the delusional aftermath to the brain damage of Steve's punch that he knew was coming, but never saw.

Or maybe… his Borrowed Time was finally giving him someone other than Grace to hold on to.

"I've wanted to do this all week," Steve murmured, placing another gentle kiss against the inside of Danny's wrist. "Of course, it's not the only place I want to kiss or plan to—but I'll take what I can get at the moment."

"Steve—" Danny shook his head, dumb-founded, and honestly, he was at a loss for words. He didn't think this had actually ever happened to him before; it was very disconcerting.

"Danno?" Grace's voice suddenly broke into their bubble, and they both turned to look towards the house to find the girl standing in the soft-lighted lanai doors. "I got the plates." Her little hands clasped a little nervously in front of her. She'd recognized the familiar "adult tones" earlier when they suggest that she go and get the plates from when her parents were about to get into an argument, so she spent extra long doing it.

"Alright, monkey." Danny managed to say, his voice a little sticky. They were still standing close, probably closer still than was truly necessary with the space provided between the two Adirondack chairs. Steve's hand still holding his aloft between their chests, he could still feel the man's lips on his flesh—and he wanted more! "We'll be in in a minute. Alright?"

But Grave still lingered. "Am I in trouble?" she questioned in a small voice.

"Of course not, monkey!" Danny exclaimed instantly in reassurance. "You were just worried about Danno and knew that Uncle Steve could set me straight." He glanced at Steve to see the man's lips twitch at the irony of his words. "I'm not mad, Grace."

"Why don't you get started without us?" Steve suggested. "Open the 'fridge; you'll know it when you see it." Danny would usually object to excessive sweets, but in this case... "Danno and I just need to do... a grown-up thing."

Danny gave a soft snort at that and Steve gave his forearm a responding squeeze.

"You aren't going to smoke, are you?" she had to be sure.

"Nothing like that." Danny answered, his eyes flickered to Steve's curved lips. Just another fantastic bad habit. "But probably more hazardous to my health," he murmured softly under his breath so she wouldn't hear, but he could feel Steve's amused chuff. "Don't worry, monkey," he told her brightly, "We'll be in in a minute, go ahead." He nodded.

Observing the pair for only a moment longer and seeing no hostility between then, she gave a firm nod of acceptance and turn, skipping back towards the kitchen and Uncle Steve's special dessert made just for her.

A wave crashed gently on the beach and the pair turned their attention back to each other. The energy and focus that lulled in wake of Grace's appearance, revved back up to full heat as she departed.

"Well, then," Danny swallowed as he looked into Steve's dark hazel-grey eyes. He let out a nervous exhale, "If this is really happening, what am I supposed do with an bag of industrial bag of rubber bands?"

"Oh, this is happening, Danno." Steve told him. And growled, "And if I ever see one of those things around your wrist again, your won't like what happens next."

"Considering the change in our situation, that won't be a problem." He agreed.

"Shut up, Danno. And c'mere." Steve's left hand slid across Danny's shoulder and cupped the nape of the man's neck, pulling him closer. He ducked his head as Danny lifted his. Their lips came together, and they both sighed simultaneously. Both opened up for the other, tongues tagging.

Steve's fingers pushed into the soft hair above the nape of his neck, as Danny's free arm cheekily slithered its way into the SEAL's open-side of his tank, getting a feel of that warm, smooth, taut flesh as he wrapped his arm around the man's back and pulled them flush.

"Not the hair," Danny mumbled the complaint against the man's beautiful stupid lips as Steve once again adjusted his grip on Danny's left arm, clasping palms and twining their fingers.

In response to his comment, Steve tightened his fist gently in the blond's hair, tilted the man's head, and took utter control of his loud-mouth partner. This was one thing Danny wouldn't fight him on.

Definitely better than perpetually snapping at his wrist with a rubber band. And this was one bad habit that he could never get tired of and live with without an ounce of remorse.

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HAWAII . FIVE - 0

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