Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.

A/N: When I wrote Stare Down (MacDalton on AO3), it seemed like a good premise for McDanno as well. So, here it is. Hopefully, it's not too similar to Rough Week.

Steve glared across the bar at Danny. Danny was at the bar getting them another round. It wasn't actually Danny Steve's death-stare was focused on; it was the douchebag currently flirting with Steve's boyfriend. Objectively, the guy could probably be considered handsome. He was several inches taller than Danny, probably just an inch or two shorter than Steve, but he was just as broad in the shoulders. Biceps bulged under the skintight t-shirt he wore. His skin was tanned a deep bronze. His dark hair was somewhat shaggy and curled at the nape of his neck. Steve might even have sent an (objectively) appreciative glance his way if he'd just happened to see him in passing (he was committed, not blind). That was before the guy had declared open season on Danny.

First, the guy had sidled up to Danny, smiled a huge, smarmy grin, and come out with what Steve was sure was a cheesy pickup line, probably something like "Come here often?" or "What's your sign?" or something even sleazier like "You look good in those jeans, but you'd look better out of them." Danny had not reacted. Good for him; Steve knew his partner had better taste than that—he'd chosen Steve, after all. Next, the guy had offered to buy Danny a drink, which had been summarily refused. You'd think the guy would get a hint, but no. . .he was still trying to chat Danny up. The guy touched Danny's arm, and Steve growled. His glare intensified; maybe the guy would spontaneously combust if Steve stared hard enough. Steve was pleased when Danny shifted away from the touch. The jerk still didn't give up, moving his hand to Danny's back.

Steve saw red. Clearly, the idiot was deliberately misreading the signals Danny was giving off, or maybe he was just that stupid, and, unfortunately, the daggers Steve was glaring were highly ineffective all the way across the room. It really was a shame looks couldn't actually kill. This called for a more. . .hands on approach.

Steve stalked across the room and crowded into Danny's personal space, draping an arm possessively around his partner. "He's taken," Steve snarled.

"Steven!" Danny chided, squirming to loosen Steve's hold on him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Steve only tightened his grip. "Just letting this guy know who you belong to."

"Belong to?!" Danny turned in Steve's arms and shoved against Steve's chest. "I don't belong to you, you Neanderthal!"

"Yeah," the other guy said, "he doesn't belong to you. So, why don't you just fuck off?"

"Now, listen here. . ." Steve growled. He leveled his best glare on the guy, hoping to obliterate him with his eyes. Nope, didn't work.

Danny rested a hand on Steve's chest, restraining him. "Down, boy. I don't need you to defend my honor."

"Yeah," the asshole said, "he doesn't need you to defend his honor. I'm sure he'd prefer someone more suave, wouldn't you, sweetheart?"

Now, Danny was the one with the gaze as hot as lasers. "Even if I did, which I don't, it certainly wouldn't be you. You may think you've got game, but you most certainly don't. Now, get out of here before I let my boyfriend here off his leash."

The guy held up his hands in surrender. "Geez, alright, you don't have to sic the attack dog on me. I'm leaving." He backed hastily away.

Steve kept his gaze focused on the guy until he vanished from sight in the crowd. It was a good thing looks didn't really kill, or the guy would be a goner. "Good riddance," Steve snarled.

Danny rounded on Steve. "You!" He jabbed Steve in the chest. "What made you think coming over here and going all caveman on me was a good idea?"

"He was hitting on you," Steve defended himself.

"So? If you hadn't noticed, I wasn't flirting back," Danny said. "He would have given up, eventually."

"Danny, that guy wasn't going to take no for an answer," Steve said. "Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't come over."

"What would have happened," Danny said, "was I would have taken care of him myself. As you might recall, I have a pretty mean right hook."

Steve's jaw twinged at the memory. "I just didn't like him hanging all over you," he confessed.

Danny's arms started waving, a sure sign that he was on a roll. "So, what, when you couldn't annihilate him with your death glare from across the room, you decided to come over here and threaten him?" Danny demanded. "Don't think I didn't see you over there glaring across the bar. You're such a Neanderthal. I can't take you anywhere."

"Aw, Danny," Steve whined, "I was just trying to look out for you."

Danny was back to jabbing Steve in the chest. "No, no, you weren't. You were being an uncivilized beast protecting his territory. You couldn't have been more clear if you came over and pissed on me."

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Steve protested.

"Yes, yes, you are," Danny said. He shoved the beers at Steve. "Now, be a good boy and take these back to the table." Danny started to move off.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked.

"I'm going to go dance," Danny said, waving Steve off when he started to protest. "And you, you uncivilized troglogdyte, are going to let me."

"What if some gets the wrong idea?" Steve said.

"Then, I will take care of it." Danny's voice softened, and he cupped Steve's cheek. "Babe, I'm here with you. You're the one I'm hopelessly in love with, god help me. I'm not going to go off with anybody else. Just relax, okay?"

"Fine," Steve grumbled.

Danny moved off. Steve watched as Danny went onto the dance floor and started moving. He immediately attracted attention; several people moved closer, and a couple tried to engage him. Steve could only watch, jealousy flaring, as a group formed around Danny. Nobody was being inappropriate, but it still rankled. Steve glared as hard as he could. If only looks could kill.