I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Because I get bored ... and need to practice one shots (Hahahaha ...) and figured picking a word of the day would provide decent impetus (maybe).

Of course, this first word STINKS beyond all measure, but I vowed to give it a go! Could this word be more obscure? Probably not. And no, this does not mean there will be a story a day ... just a word of the day related to "some" day where the plot bunny might feel a need to "entertain" itself by producing a warren of one-shot bunnies.

In short, I have no idea if any of this will go anywhere (especially if the 2nd word is just as bad). I hope that whatever happens is at least somewhat entertaining. You can count on whumpage, bromance and the usual though - including cheesy "plots"!

Typical disclamers apply: not beta'd, not a doctor, not interested in true medical accuracy in any way, shape or form. Just for fun!

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

Word of the Day: Dudgeon. A feeling of offense or resentment. Anger.

"Sit down, Danny."

"Why?" His partner chuckled and Steve swore his eyes went in opposite directions at the same time his head wobbled on his neck.

"Because ...," and Steve sighed - loudly aggrieved as Danny chuckled again, perhaps a bit more weedy and thin than usual. The fall was going to be a simply matter of time and it would be hard based on the coloring bruise and tiny trickle of blood curving its way down Danny's cheek.

"Because ... you got knocked pretty damned hard in the head. So you should ..."

"Sit before I fall down?" Danny interrupted, laughing out right as if figuring out a very special joke, his eyebrows raised as high as the one finger he used to make his point.

"Yeah," Steve replied, completely exasperated as he jockeyed his attention between his partner and their seated suspect. "That."

"But I'm not going to fall down," Danny said amicably. "I'm not going to fall down because ... I. Feel. Great."

"Daniel." His tone said it all but Danny merely giggled again before he answered Steve in precisely the same irked-sounding tone, minus the severity of expression.

"Steven."

Steve swiped his hand over his eyes, his inability to get to his partner slowly morphing into an absolute feeling of desperation. He shook his head as Danny walked in a complete circle, a stupid smile plastered to his face. He groaned under his breath, glaring at the dangerous criminal he held at bay. Their current circumstances were entirely his fault ... from their obscure location to Danny's rattled brain.

"I swear ... if you so much as twitch," Steve warned the man. "Cuffed or not ... military or not ... self-proclaimed president ... or not ... you're done and it's not HPD who will take you away, but our State coroner."

The man's eyes sparkled in evil mirth and Steve's expression changed again. The man was duly cuffed and technically incapacitated, yet Steve didn't trust his situation one bit. The man was the self-proclaimed leader of his country's military government. He was dangerous. Talented in subterfuge and beyond no act of evil for his own gain.

"I have a word for you," the powerful man said. He was leering, rudely teasing Steve as he glanced towards Danny meaningfully. "Immunity."

"I don't care ...," Steve growled out at first, his ire rising at the man's brazen challenge to claim such a thing under International law, while at the same time, Danny giggled again off to the side when something fell off an over-crowded shelf in the old garage. A chemical smell like paint filled the air as something else toppled over. Evidently bored, Danny kept rummaging about the old barn and based on the smell of what he was knocking about, he'd found old paint cans.

Steve hid his flinch as something else hit the ground with a loud metallic clang, but not the flux of high dudgeon he felt when the cuffed man laughed out loud.

"You! Shut up! And ... Danny, sit the hell down!"

"But he's fine," the man purred nastily.

"He's right!" Danny giggled, boldly pointing at their suspect, all kinds of pleased to have someone on his side it seemed.

"Sit down!" Steve ground out to Danny through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing in anger. He stared hard at the seated man, refusing to look away in case he tried something. Desperately wanting to check on his partner and utterly relieved as the sound of sirens finally ... finally ... reached his ears.

"Danny, sit."

"But he's perfectly fine," the man said again, grinning widely even as Steve practically roared at him.

"Hey! Shut it! You - just sit there and ... shut up!"

"But he's right!" Danny sing-songed happily as he wandered in another circle, rocking to a stop by Steve's side. Steve thought he knew what he was going to say, instead Danny threw his hands out wide towards the side as if ready to hug the world. He was blinking wildly, his eyes glassy even if his voice was incredibly steady.

"Immunity! He's got ... immunity, Steven! Just like ... us! But we've got means ... that ... that he doesn't have. Right?"

"Wrong ... this time," Steve muttered under his breath, still refusing to even chance a glance towards his partner. "Very, very wrong. Our friend here is under arrest for documented evidence of human rights abuse ... torture ... acts against humanity. He'll be extradited within hours."

"Okay. That sounds ... bad," Danny replied lightly, an almost apologetic shrug aimed at the criminal as he wandered away to stand in the doorway to the old garage. He was apparently done with the conversation and content to move on. Steve sensed Danny pausing in the small doorway, his body blocking the light to senselessly announce the actual arrival of at least three HPD units. "Yo, Steve ... back-ups here. Hey ... it's Duke!"

Steve blew out a long, relieved breath of air as Sergeant Duke Lukela and two pairs of HPD officers jogged into the garage. He handed off the criminal with orders to keep the man well in hand and under strict guard until he could be shunted off to the Federal officials. Then he was jogging out of the old garage and into the bright sunshine. By the time Steve reached Danny's side, his friend nearly aimlessly wandering the dusty yard, everything else had been all but forgotten.

"Sit down for me now, huh?" Steve asked as he gently took Danny's arm and guided him towards the Camaro where it had been parked near the old, abandoned house. "Please? Just for a minute. The ambulance will be here any minute."

"Such a worrier," Danny said calmly as he let Steve push him into the Camaro's bucket seat. "I'm fine ... better than fine. Don't worry." Nonetheless, his eyes weren't tracking and he was blinking nearly incessantly in the bright sunlight. In fact, his smile might have begun to dwindle just a bit as well.

"Yeah, I am a worrier," Steve agreed, wincing in sympathy as he measured the angry bruise and jagged tear along Danny's hairline. His left pant's leg was stained in white paint, the sharp chemical smell distinctly out of place. His friend had been knocked ten different ways to sideways and Steve could not figure out how he was still managing to be on his feet.

"Steve?" Danny looked around the interior of the car and managed another loopy smile when he realized that Steve had made him sit in the driver's seat. "So hey? It looks like I get to finally drive my own car, huh?"

"Danno ..." Steve started to say something. But the inevitable happened two seconds after Danny uttered those words. He looked up at Steve, and the smile slowly faded from his face. He blinked again rapidly, his expression now confused ... nearly scared. His mouth opened and then closed soundlessly. Pale became a subtle ash-gray color and Steve was reacting on autopilot, honed skills helping him to focus to care for his ailing friend as Danny's eyes rolled frighteningly skywards.

*H50*

Hawk-like, Steve watched Danny from his lanai. After a number of days in the hospital, things were almost back to normal. Almost. Upon waking, not only had Danny not remembered what had happened at the remote property, he'd not recalled a single thing about the case or the violent circumstances leading up to the dangerous arrest. That had been disconcerting enough. However, and for the longest time afterwards - what seemed like an eternity to Steve – Danny hadn't recognized him. And that had been downright terrifying.

The doctors had no formal explanation for the lapses. Not really and the point became somewhat moot the day it self-corrected itself. Once upon a time, Danny simply didn't know Steve at all and then, he did. Danny's calm, smiling welcome that special morning - and rather innocuous shrug - four days after clearly having drawn a blank on Steve's face and gentle reminders of their friendship had been nearly as traumatic as the initial event.

But only traumatic to Steve and then only somewhat moot because the other odd bogies had slowly revealed themselves.

Danny's baffled look at not knowing his left shoe from his right. The confusion over the color of his car - seriously, black is rather ... black. The inability to remember what to call his badge. Odd things; strange things which came out of left field at the most perplexing of times. And random? Well, that was an understatement. Rather than being upset though, Danny had swallowed hard, taken it all in stride, and laughed it all off. One could further argue that reaction as odd unto itself, but with most of the things being of a harmless mundane nature, Steve was slowly also reconciling these things with himself.

Plus, once Danny remembered on his own or was reminded or re-learned it, the bogie - whatever it had been - was corrected. It was then easily forgotten as having ever happened at all. Generally, the doctors weren't concerned; in fact, they were more intrigued as if Danny might be a lab rat. Then there was the man himself: Danny wasn't concerned at all. So by then, Steve should also have been a little less wary. Yet, it was a difficult transition. Steve couldn't let any of it go. At least, not entirely.

Danny's overall recovery was slow and occasionally almost childlike. He had killer migraines and was often losing his balance; things which the doctors felt would ease with time. So as he watched his friend now, uncertain and vigilant, Steve forced himself to breathe out a long calming sigh ... and smiled.

And waited.

He'd ordered pizza. Delivery and the order had just arrived. Two very specific and very different pies had been on the menu and now, he was just watching ... waiting to see if Danny might have one of his odd 'experiences'.

Steve cleared his throat as he wandered to the patio table and Danny glanced up smiling as he flipped open one box top and then the second. Steve lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head as Danny's smile fell away and he scowled, looking from one to the other.

"What the hell is that?" He asked as he pointed to the pie in the first box. His nose wrinkled and he leaned over to sniff it with a dubious snort. "Do I ... like that?"

Steve grinned widely, stupidly pleased with himself for having uncovered another accidental blip on Danny's cracked mental radar.

"Half pepperoni and half ... Hawaiian. You know ... pineapple and ham. It's good stuff," Steve said off-handedly. "The other, is plain ... nothing special except for extra cheese. So you tell me, buddy. Which one?"

"You know, Steven," Danny replied as he folded his arms over his chest. "Sometimes I seriously do not appreciate your little tests ... your little experiments conducted entirely at my expense. For example, forcing me to watch Bride of Chucky was not ... I repeat not ... an enjoyable experience."

"Ah, now that's not entirely true!" Steve interrupted as he waggled his finger in Danny's face. "You didn't exactly hate it either because you did laugh!"

Danny mock glared his way, his eyes narrowed, but he failed at fighting a smile. "I laughed ... at you!" He countered quickly. "How you can watch that drivel every year is beyond me."

"Every year?" Steve challenged back, his eyebrows now tilted so high that Danny had to laugh. "You remembered ... but do you remember when?"

"Halloween?" Danny answered after a slight pause.

"Halloween it is ... it's a McGarrett tradition," Steve concluded happily. "But ... back to the pizza, Danno. Which one?"

"This is stupid," Danny sniffed an aggrieved kind of sound, his lips pursed as he looked at the pies. He was game though as he considered each, the wrinkle of his nose proof of what he was going to say even before it came out of his mouth.

"Pizza. These two things here ... these ... do not even belong in the same airspace," Danny announced as he gestured emphatically between the two boxes. "Everyone knows that pizza is ...uh - something ... sauce and dough."

"Something?" Steve asked, his chuckle unavoidable as Danny tore the biggest slice he could from the regular cheese pie. He'd found a second unexpected blip ... harmless enough as usual. And as usual, easily correctable.

"Yeah," Danny mumbled as he took a bite, clearly disgusted with himself for the minor memory lapse. "Something ... this white stuff ... that's it. Pizza is this gooey white stuff, sauce and dough."

Steve snorted at that broken tidbit of knowledge; the snort becoming an all out laugh as Danny twirled a long piece of cheese around his finger to shove it ceremoniously into his mouth.

"Shut up," Danny said. He shrugged, now only slightly disgusted with himself for forgetting a word. "It'll come to me ... and that's all matters because I still know what a real pizza is, babe. And you ... you evidently still ... do not."

"Mostly true ... mostly," Steve agreed happily, unwilling to continue teasing his best friend because that was all true. And for now, remembering something as mundane as pizza, and an opinion delivered with that same level of Danny-like snark was damned good enough, too. Steve grinned as he closed the lid to the first box and dug into the plain pizza along with Danny, neatly snaring a slice that was literally dripping with extra cheese.

"Yup, you're right, Danno. Pizza is just gooey white stuff, sauce and dough. I can live with that."

~ End. ~