Author's Note: I have no real excuse for this. It started nearly a year ago as a bit I wrote in response to a joking conversation, and then became a full-blown story after a plot bunny ran away with me. I've been working on it intermittently in an extremely self-indulgent way, and now that I've finally gotten "Three Perfectly Awful Days" posted, I'm throwing it out there in case anyone else would like to read it. (If for some reason anyone is wondering, don't worry, I'm also working on getting Part 5 of The Telephone Rang ready!)

This story is dedicated to Senzarit, whose true friendship through all kinds of weather means more to me than I can possibly express. I'd say you have kept me sane, but after reading this story, people might doubt that! So, I'll just say that you've kept me writing. (Everyone can decide for themselves whether or not they think that's a good thing.) :-P

I'd also like to mention that I was overjoyed to discover a few months ago that there is a Reboot Five-0 unicorn story! If you like the idea of unicorns and Five-O, please check out "They Will Stare Unbelieving" by Dreamwind1.

So, this is it, Steve McGarrett thought, staring down the barrel of Loren's gun. The meeting had been a ruse, designed to lure the head of Five-O out to this remote forest clearing where he could be disposed of. In these final moments he was somewhat startled to realize that the face that flashed across his mind's eye was that of his second-in-command. Goodbye, Danno, he thought, as Loren's finger squeezed the trigger.

Suddenly, everything stopped making sense. A golden brown shape exploded from the underbrush, slamming into McGarrett's would-be killer, sending his gun flying. Steve had simultaneously hurled himself backwards out of the line of fire, and he watched from a prone position as Loren, knocked sprawling, cried out in pain, his hand clapped to his shoulder, red blood flowing over his fingers. Standing over him was, most improbably, a chestnut horse.

McGarrett's knowledge of equine matters had subconsciously taken over, assessing the animal. Reddish chestnut, build of a quarter horse, but something else in there...a curly mane and tail...maybe some Friesian? Two white socks on the hind feet, and, unusual for a chestnut, blue eyes, he thought irrelevantly. The horse snorted at the fallen thug, then turned to Steve.

And wasn't a horse.

McGarrett blinked hard, then reached a hand up to rub his eyes. When he lowered it again, the evidence was still in front of him, and, in fact, closer, as the creature approached him, whickering softly. It began gently nuzzling him with its...his, Steve corrected himself, as he noted the animal's anatomy...soft muzzle, for all the world as though to check him for injuries. He couldn't help flinching slightly as the creature gently prodded his knee, since that brought the...oddness...of it a bit too close for comfort.

The horn.

The animal looked like a normal handsome chestnut stallion. With a golden-sheened spiraling eighteen-inch horn rising from the center of its forehead.

All this had happened so quickly that Steve was still lying on his back on the grass, propped up on his elbows, gazing in dumbfounded amazement at his rescuer. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, carefully avoiding the horn, and brushed himself off.

"I'm fine," he said, a bit self-consciously, but unable to shake the feeling that the...the horse-thing...his mind shied away from the other word...was worried about him.

The animal in question gave a snort, turned his head toward Loren, who looked frankly terrified, still clutching his bleeding shoulder, and crashed off into the underbrush again.

McGarrett crawled over to where Loren lay wide-eyed and apparently too stunned for speech. "Let me see," he ordered, moving the man's hand aside. There was a ragged hole through shirt and shoulder, surely created by the...thing's...horn. Steve took out his handkerchief and put it over the wound, then replaced Loren's hand, saying, "Keep pressure on it. I called for backup on my way...they should get here any minute."

As if on cue, Danny Williams came crashing through the same underbrush the chestnut creature had so recently emerged from. He had clearly made the fastest time he could, and was gasping for breath, his clothing disheveled and bits of plants and debris in his curly hair, his gun drawn.

"Steve!" he called. "I got your radio message. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Danno," the head of Five-O assured him. I don't know why, but I am...

A few hours later McGarrett was sitting behind his desk staring unseeingly at a report when Danny came into the office with a keeper from the Honolulu Zoo, a dark-haired woman dressed in a uniform of polo shirt, khaki shorts, and boots, with a book tucked under one arm.

"Hi. I'm Diane," she said, crossing the office to shake hands with Steve as Danny came to sit perched in his favorite place on the corner of Steve's desk. "I hear you had an encounter with some sort of large, horned animal in the forest near Hau'ula?"

"Yes. I'm not...not quite sure what it was," McGarrett told her, looking down at his desk.

Diane opened the book she carried to a marked place, reaching across the desk to set it in front of Steve. "From the description Mr. Williams gave me, it sounds like it could have been one of the larger antelopes. Look through this chapter and tell me if anything seems familiar. Of course, I can assure you we're not missing anything of the sort from the Zoo."

Steve flipped through the book, trying to find something that at least looked plausibly like the...horse-thing. "Hm...the horn...that is, the horns," he quickly corrected himself, "were something like this," he said, pointing to a picture of a chamois. "But the animal was larger."

"Often people imagine animals are larger than they really are, when they see them in a threatening situation," Diane suggested.

"I suppose it's possible," McGarrett told her. "I could swear it was more the size of a...a cow, though." He continued to flip through the pages. "Maybe this?" He turned the book to show her.

"The roan antelope? They are large and can be aggressive if they feel threatened. Native to Africa. We don't have any at the Zoo, and I can't imagine keeping one as a pet, but people do strange things. Possibly someone had some idea of setting up a game ranch for hunting," she speculated. "You can have Fish and Wildlife contact us if there are any more sightings."

"Thank you for your help," McGarrett told her, ushering her out of the office before returning to stand in front of the desk, facing his second-in-command. "Danno..." he began, then stopped. What am I going to ask him, 'Danno, do you believe in unicorns?'

He started again. "Danno, I want you to stay in touch with Fish and Wildlife. This thing, whatever it is, is clearly dangerous. But it...it might be an endangered species, so if possible I want them to bring it in unharmed." Also, it saved my life today, he thought.

"Will do, Steve," Danny said. "And...I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner back there."

"You got there as quickly as you could," his boss told him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. Something else had my back this morning...