Danny was trying to work out exactly how he had ended up stuck in a stationery cupboard with his partner. He was concentrating on the whys and hows because he was also trying not to panic over the fact that the cupboard was tiny, and the walls were beginning to close in on him.

They had been in Hart's office in his club in Waikiki. The guy was suspected of arranging the supply and sale of drugs in the form of skin patches to the patrons who attended his establishment, an up-and-coming club in the trendy part of town, and Five-0 were undercover inside the building, disguised as party goers. Some of the drugs had proved fatal for a few clubbers, the chemicals impure, and four bodies had been discovered with the patches still on their necks in the past two weeks.

Steve and Danny had snuck upstairs into the suspect's offices to search for evidence while Chin and Kono stayed downstairs at the bar and on the dance floor respectively, keeping an eye out for Hart, and any illegal activity.

They were all in club-wear, which made Danny more than uncomfortable for several reasons. Firstly, he was generally a fan of looser clothing, stuff that didn't make him feel quite so on display as his current attire - a black vest top, restrictive dark blue jeans which had made their rookie wolf-whistle at him, black sneakers, and a thick silver chain bracelet on each wrist which kept catching his arm hairs and made him think of handcuffs. Plus Kono had insisted on fluffing up his blonde hair to look 'cooler' in her words, which he had protested about no end on their way to the bar.

Secondly, it was not good for his health to see his ridiculously buff partner dressed in a similarly tight-fitting outfit - dark blue short-sleeved t-shirt so his tattoos poked out teasingly, tight black jeans, black boots and black bands around his wrists that seemed to draw Danny's attention to the man's forearms and the muscles and veins underneath his skin.

While they were going through Hart's desk drawers, the deep bass music playing in the club dulled by the walls of the office, Chin had radioed up using the tiny microphones and receivers in their ears to tell them that their suspect was on his way up the stairs, and they needed to make themselves scarce or blow their cover. Danny had dashed for the back window to check if there was a route down into the alley below, but it was locked, and that was when Steve's hand had closed around his wrist and he had been dragged bodily through a doorway and the door closed firmly behind them.

A small light inside had allowed the blonde cop to take in their new surroundings while his boss hurriedly communicated to their colleagues that he and Danny were hidden. The room was no more than three foot wide and four foot deep, but a good foot and a half of the depth was taken up by some metal shelving which was full of packs of pens, paperclips and jotters. So he was crammed in to a tiny space, back up against the wall with the shelving to his left and the closed door to his right, and McGarrett against the opposite wall, leaving all of around three inches of space in between their chests.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, listening as Hart entered the adjacent room, talking to another two males judging by the timbre of the others' voices. The detective couldn't quite make out what they were saying, the door muffling their words, but he heard the squeak of chairs being pulled out from under the desk, and gathered they would not be getting out any time soon if the men were taking seats.

And that's when his internal voice starting screaming at him that he was going to die, running out of oxygen in this god forsaken closet, with only a Navy SEAL and some staples for company. He could feel his chest tightening, breathing getting faster as the air became thinner, the walls pressing against him as they moved in closer together to crush him. He tried counting. It wasn't working.

"Danny..." Steve whispered, and the Jersey man pried his eyes open.

"Uh?" he managed to get out.

"You okay, buddy?" The brunette was looking down at him with concerned hazel eyes, which flicked between his partner and the door, his hand resting lightly on the gun in his hidden holster in the back of his pants. He was constantly aware of the threat of discovery, but worried about his friend.

Their voices were kept low and hushed, trying to avoid detection by Hart or his companions.

Danny clutched at his own weapon where it sat in the same position, for the distraction of the cool metal on his fingertips more than anything. He squeezed his eyes shut again and tried to breathe through the rising fear.

"I uh, yeah it's just... my claustrophobia, Steve. I can't fucking breathe..."

"Shit," his friend huffed, "Danno, you just gotta distract yourself, okay?"

He opened his eyes to glare at the Commander. "Oh, thank you mister genius doctor, I'd never have thought of that technique ever! They teach you that in SEAL school?" he hissed.

"Alright, don't get your panties all twisted up..." Steve grumbled back.

"Don't get my... what exactly am I supposed to distract myself with in here, Steven? Hm? Paperclips?" He jabbed at a small pile of boxes, and grabbed a stapler off the shelf, flicking it open wide, "Maybe I can staple something? Get some paperwork done?" He squeezed the metal and plastic together a couple of times so it fired the tiny pieces of metal to bounce of Steve's shoulder harmlessly.

The SEAL snatched the item off him and set it back down. "Will you calm down, please?"

The detective snapped a stack of yellow post it notes up. The pressure in his skull was building as the feeling of drowning increased. Apparently his brain, faced with fight-or-flight and knowing he couldn't escape, was heading for the fight option. "I will calm down when we get the fuck out of here! I. Hate. Small. Spaces!" He punctuated each of his harshly whispered words by smacking a sticky square onto his partner's chest one by one.

The brunette's hands came up to grasp Danny's shoulders. "Hey, listen to me. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing, 'kay?"

"You think I haven't already tried that?" The Jersey man forcefully stuck another post it to Steve's forehead, and the taller man reached up to whip it off.

"Seriously, I'll count you down. Just breathe in when I say an odd number, out when I say even okay?" His raised hand went back to Danny's shoulder, both sliding down to grip his biceps, hot against the cop's bare skin.

Still panting heavily, he focused his glare on his friend's face like he could fire lasers from his eyes if he tried hard enough.

"C'mon, Danno," the other man whispered, pleading, his eyes containing a mix of worry and firmness. His own calm composure was helpful and irritating in equal measures.

"Alright, fine," the blonde grumbled, "but it never works..." He closed his eyes again and pressed his head back against the wall, trying not to hyperventilate.

"One,"

He took as deep a breath as possible in and waited for the next number, Steve counting at a slow and steady pace.

"Two,"

He breathed out in a rush, pursing his lips a little.

"Try to let it out slowly, Danny. Three,"

The detective peeled one eye open again to pin the Navy man with an imaginary dagger, but shut it to breathe in deep again.

"Four. That's brilliant," Steve said quietly as his friend let the air out slower this time.

They kept it going, and Danny could feel his heartbeat ramping down, breathing becoming less shaky, as he listened to his partner's soothing voice, dealing with the simple act of taking in air and releasing it on the taller man's command. He squeezed the pack of sticky notes between his fingers, rubbing his thumb over the texture of the paper, his other hand plucking at the denim of his jeans to keep himself busy, coming to a rest on his thigh when he felt like he was collected enough.

"Nine,"

A long breath in, held carefully.

"Ten."

Air released in an equally long stream.

"Well done, buddy."

Danny opened his eyes again and smiled a little, but the feeling of calm was short-lived as his mind suddenly focused with pin point accuracy on exactly how close Steve was to him. That would be enough to set his pulse speeding up again on its own if it wasn't also for the fact that his detective's brain, forever linking things together and following through to the next logical step, also felt the need to call attention to the fact that Steve was that near because he had to be. Because the walls were so close together. Because the room was fucking tiny.

He pulled in a harsh shaky breath. "Fuck fuck fuck," he hissed.

Steve's expression switched from a proud smile to his 'Oh shit' face as Danny's eyes widened and began darting wildly around the small space again.

"Danny, hey, look at me," he whispered as loudly as he dared to get the Jersey native's attention, but the shorter man was too busy losing his ability to think straight, dropping the post its.

He reached out for the door handle at Steve's side. "I gotta get out of here, I don't care if I'm walking into a firefight, I gotta get out!"

The Commander grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from the door, pushing him back into the wall and digging the metal bracelet into his skin. Blood thundered through his ears and his vision greyed at the edges as he felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen.

"Steve, let me go. I gotta get out!" He knew his voice had raised in pitch and volume, not enough for their suspect to hear through the door yet, but he was building up to a full blown panic attack and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to control how quiet he was for much longer. Wasn't sure if he cared. He struggled in his partner's vice-like grip.

"Danny, don't-"

"Steve, please-"

His panicked words were cut off by the SEAL's mouth pressing against his own.

Everything stopped. His breathing, his struggling, even his heart seemed to take a pause in an attempt to fully understand what was happening.

Steve's lips were soft, warm, smooth and firm. The detective's nose was pressed against the brunette's cheek and he could feel the fine stubble scratching at his skin. The man huffed against his cheek and Danny couldn't stop the tiny, breathy noise that came out alongside his own sigh.

He'd closed his eyes automatically, couldn't remember doing it, and his lashes fluttered as he tried to process the situation. Steve still held his right wrist, and the SEAL's right hand remained on the blonde's left bicep where it had stayed the whole time he'd been counting him down and during his short-lived freak out, steady, trying to ground him. Danny's left hand had drifted to his partner's hip where his index finger had found a belt loop and hooked into it.

Then Steve's tongue was pressing against the line of his lips, and he parted them to allow him entry. It slid in to his mouth, strong and slick, and ran along his own tongue even as he was paralysed against the wall, the beat of the club's music thrumming through the concrete into his spine. He finally found the wherewithal to react, and he pressed back against the Navy man, tongue making its way into his mouth and investigating every inch.

The kiss gained momentum, heating up, and Steve's hand moved from his arm up behind Danny's head, grasping the back of his neck and crushing them together. The taller man's grip loosened on the detective's wrist, and Danny managed to bring it up to cup the side of the brunette's face, the other man's hand following it to plaster over the top of his and hold it there.

The blonde's other hand tugged on the belt loop and Steve ended up stepping forward, his leg going in between Danny's and his thigh pressing against the shorter man's hardening cock through his jeans.

The Jersey native took in a sharp breath through his nose, and the SEAL reacted by pushing forward further and grinding up against him, drawing a small whimper from his chest.

Steve was attacking Danny's mouth with fervour, devouring every small sound he made and tongue-fucking him, scraping his teeth against the blonde's lips and licking the roof of his mouth, making him shiver.

The shorter man could feel the brunette's dick, stiff and solid against his hip, as he rocked his pelvis against the detective's body.

Oh fuck, this was unbelievable. Steve McGarrett, his boss, the man he'd wanted from day one when they'd first pointed their guns at each other over the Marquis in his garage, was currently making out with him in a cupboard, and they were humping one another's legs like horny teenagers.

The hand which had hold of Steve's jeans released the belt loop and snuck up under his t-shirt, shoving the tight fabric out of the way so he could skim his fingers over the smooth muscle and rippled scars that decorated the man's back. Both of the brunette's hands were following suit, travelling down his body and pulling at the hem of his vest, tugging it up to expose Danny's abs, fingers splaying over the skin and sliding up through the fine dark blonde hair on his belly and chest.

His hot mouth left the blonde's and began to trace along the line of his jaw and down his neck, sucking lightly and nibbling down the artery there. The detective pushed his shoulders and head back into the wall so that he could arch his spine and thrust out with his hips, producing a delicious friction which had them both gasping as they lost themselves in each other.

"Steve, Danny, come in." Both of the men jumped as their ear pieces crackled to life.

"Fuck..." Danny groaned.

The Commander cleared his throat quietly and pulled right back from his partner before replying, his eyes not quite meeting his friend's. "Yes, Chin, we're here." He quickly peeled the remaining sticky notes off his chest while Danny removed the one which had transferred onto his vest.

"Hart and his companion have returned back down to the club floor, you're clear to head out." Their friend's voice came clearly over the line.

Danny's brain clicked back into gear and he reached up a hand to press on the small disc to activate his mic, his voice a little rough. "Thanks, we'll resume our search and join you shortly."

"Received."

Steve gave his companion a slightly awkward look, and then twisted the door knob to release them from the closet, both of them stumbling free into the cooler air of the office. Danny tugged his shirt back into place and adjusted his pants, running a hand through his hair. He had certainly forgotten about the cramped confines of the cupboard, and he couldn't really argue with his boss's distraction technique.

Steve went back to rifling through Hart's desk, while the detective found a locked cabinet in the corner of the room, desperately trying to ignore his erection. He kneeled on the floor and slipped some small lock picks from his wallet which he'd brought just in case, and expertly worked the lock until it clicked open. Inside were rolls of bills wrapped with elastic bands, and a metal box on the bottom shelf, and Danny used one of his picks to lift the lid so he didn't contaminate any evidence.

The box was full of sheets of perforated paper with small colourful images on them – the drug patches they'd been finding on the dead party goers for the past few weeks.

"Got it, Steve," he dropped the lid and closed the locker door, "The patches are in his possession, we need to get HPD in here to take this evidence, and we can go and arrest Hart. We've got him for this."

The brunette closed the drawer he was digging through and nodded. His hand went to his ear. "Chin, Kono, get a position on Hart. We've got what we need. Danny and I will head down and we can make an arrest."

"Got it boss, he's at the right-hand end of the bar. We're in position." Kono's voice came back to the over the wire.

"On our way," the Commander confirmed.

The detective followed his partner out of the office and down the stairs, trying to push the events of the stationery cupboard to one side, blood flowing back to his brain and out of his aching dick, slowly. He had to focus on the task at hand, and deal with the kiss later. However uncomfortable the SEAL now looked when he glanced back at him over his shoulder, there was no way they'd be able to avoid talking about this. The booming beat of the club music helped hone his thoughts as they drew towards Hart.

They made their way to the end of the bar through the thronging crowd, where their perp was in a conversation with two men, and when they saw him hand something over to one of them and compound the evidence further, Steve signalled to his team to make their move. They all headed forward, drawing weapons and with Danny yelling "Five-0, put your hands where we can see them!" over the din of the pumping music.

One of the men managed to pull a gun, but was quickly subdued by Chin and the butt of his gun colliding with the back of the guy's head. Kono got up behind the other man, twisting his hand up behind his back and forcing her knee into the taller man's leg and taking him down to the floor with ease.

Hart used the moment to hop over the bar and, not wanting to start firing weapons in a crowded bar, Steve and Danny could only leave their colleagues with the two downed men to pursue their main perp.

Hart knew his way through the back rooms of the building well, but Steve was quick and followed him easily. Danny saw his partner leap over the bar and deduced the club owner was most likely headed for the side alley. So, instead of tailing the other two men, he spun and ran for the front doors, barking out at people to move out of his way.

Once outside in the cool night air, he skidded as he took the corner and stopped when he reached the opening to the alley. He clasped his gun in both hands and darted around the corner into the badly-lit narrow passage, weapon at chest height. It was, at first, seemingly empty other than two dumpsters and some garbage bags, but then a tall figure burst from the side door further down and Danny aimed as the man raised his weapon to point at him.

"Steve!" he shouted, and the brunette lowered his gun slightly.

"I lost him," the Commander called back.

"This alleyway is a dead end," Danny advised. "If he's not here, he must have doubled back inside. I don't think he made it out this end."

Steve worked his way deeper down the passage, moving quietly, warily pointing his gun into the shadows, while Danny held his weapon in his dominant hand and put his left hand to his earpiece as he began to search the open end of the alley, careful as he approached the heaps of trash.

"Chin, Kono, please be aware, suspect may still be in the building. We're in the side alley-" his communication was suddenly cut off by a gun shot, and pain zinged up through his left arm. He yelped and staggered, his back hit the wall behind him, although he stayed upright and kept his gun up.

Hart exploded from between the dumpsters, a weapon raised and aimed at the detective's head.

Two shots rang out, and the attacker fell to the ground as Danny slid down the wall.

Steve ran to kick the gun from Hart's lax hand, though he called out to his partner.

"Danny! Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, babe," the blonde winced as he tried to push away from the bricks, toward his boss, and Hart, who was dead with two bullet holes in him. One in the head from Steve, and one in the chest from Danny. The guy hadn't managed to get another shot off, the two team members had been too quick for him.

The detective gave up trying to move when white hot agony flowed through his arm, only temporarily dulled by the adrenaline rush which was now fading.

"You're not fine, you're bleeding," the brunette pointed out.

"Shit..." Danny looked down at his arm where blood was flowing freely from a deep gash in his bicep, his upper arm coated with sticky red.

Once the SEAL had checked Hart was down for good, he was closing the short gap between him and the blonde, moving to his left side to put pressure against the wound.

Danny grimaced. "Ow, fuck..."

"Sorry," Steve winced in sympathy, "I think it's a graze, but I want an ambulance, there's a lot of blood." He still wasn't meeting Danny's gaze, using the excuse of checking the wound, to look at the damage, glance at Hart, anywhere other than his friend's face. He looked guilty, but the detective knew it wasn't about him getting wounded, at least not completely.

First day on the job, he'd received a wound very similar to this one in his right arm, and Steve had been concerned, but barely batted an eyelid, knowing his partner would be okay. So Danny receiving a matching set of scars wasn't making him this way. It had to be about what happened in the supply cupboard. It had to be about the kiss.

"Steve, I'm okay," Danny placed his uninjured hand over the brunette's and squeezed lightly.

The SEAL still refused to make eye contact, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I thought you'd got shot again," he whispered quietly.

"I was, if you hadn't noticed? Hence the blood," he pushed past the discomfort to give his boss a smile, hoping his pain didn't show too much in his eyes... If the man would eventually look at them, anyway.

"No, I mean for a second time. Tonight." Steve took a deep breath in. "When my gun went off and I heard another shot, and you went down... I thought..."

"I'm quicker than him any day," Danny smirked and nudged Hart's body with his outstretched sneakered foot, "Well, I guess that's a given now..."

Steve finally cracked a smile and looked up, his hazel eyes locking with the Jersey man's, full of concern and... something unreadable.

They could hear sirens approaching in the distance, HPD coming to assist and secure the scene.

"How's your arm feel?" The Commander was now almost refusing to drop his eyes from Danny, emotions dancing behind them.

The blonde smiled hesitantly. "I'm not gonna lie, it hurts... but you could always... kiss it better?"

Steve looked a little stunned for a second, recovering quickly with a wider smile beginning to spread across his face. He leaned in towards his friend and they both let their eyes drift closed.

The bang of a door flying open made them both jump, Danny wincing at the movement.

"Danny? Steve?" Kono looked around the alley and spotted them, running toward them, sparing Hart a fleeting look as she settled in on the near side of her downed colleague. "Sorry for not coming earlier, we had trouble with the guys inside. Crap, what happened?"

"I'm okay," the blonde managed to get in before his boss spoke over him.

"He's not okay, he's been shot-"

"Grazed," Danny corrected.

The SEAL continued, ignoring him. "-and he's bleeding too much, he needs an ambulance-"

"I don't need an ambulance, I need a fucking band aid is all- ow!" Steve pressed a little harder on his wound and the detective glared at him.

Kono had removed her shirt which was on over her tank top, and handed it to their leader, who used it to pack against the wound, which was now seeping a lesser amount of fluid than before, but still soaked the fabric quicker than they'd have liked.

"I'll go find some EMTs, I'm sure an ambulance has already been called... I'm pretty sure HPD bring one as a matter of course when we're involved!" She gave Danny's other shoulder a little squeeze and dashed out of the alley.

"When all this is over, we're gonna have a little chat. You realise that, right babe?" The Jersey man slurred his words a little, but gave his friend an expectant look.

The brunette nodded. "Yeah, I know. And I won't get a word in edgeways..." He leaned in and briefly planted his lips on Danny's, a little hesitantly, as a promise that there would be a full discussion at a later point.

"Good, at least you know what to expect," he smiled, feeling a little weak, though he wasn't sure if it was from blood loss, that kiss, or thinking about the ways he was going to stop his partner from talking later. Or the methods the other man might use to make Danny shut up.

His head sagged forward and Steve quickly slid a hand under his jaw. "Danny?"

"Huh? 'M just a little light-headed, babe..." he mumbled groggily. Okay, it may have been blood loss after all.

Two medics appeared at the end of the alley and ran toward the two men. One checked on Hart, ignoring Steve's dismissive comment of "He's dead, never mind him!" before turning his attention to Danny as well.

The Commander was nudged out of the way while they tended to the hurt man, eventually helping him to his feet and supporting him down the passage, into the back of a waiting ambulance. He sat on the gurney and leaned back against the side of the vehicle while they packed the wound and wrapped his arm in gauze, setting up a saline drip for him.

Danny closed his eyes and let them work, listening as one of them spoke to his boss who was standing in the doorway of the truck.

"His blood pressure isn't great, he may be going into shock. The wound needs stitches, so we'd like to take him to Queen's and get him looked at."

His friend made agreeing noises, and then the SEAL's voice, soothing and soft, was right next to him. "Danny? They're gonna take you in and fix you up, okay?"

The detective peeled his eyes open, and it was more difficult than it should have been. "You comin'?" he mumbled.

The brunette gave him a small concerned smile. "I've got to sort this mess out, Danno, but I'll be there as soon as I can, alright? I'll bring the Camaro."

"M'kay..." He felt weak, cold, closing his eyes again.

"You'll be okay. I'll see you soon." Steve's voice was getting further away as he climbed out of the vehicle and an EMT was lowering Danny sideways onto the bed and lifting his legs up.

The twin doors slammed behind him and he felt the engine start up and the ambulance begin to move. The medic was talking to him, asking him if he could open his eyes, but with no Steve to keep him anchored he let himself drift. At least if he was asleep, his arm wouldn't hurt so much.

"So you think it's okay to nap on the job now, huh?"

The corner of Danny's mouth curled up slightly as he was brought out of his light doze by the sound of Steve's voice. He forced his dry eyes open to see three smiling faces at the end of his bed, and he shifted to push himself up further in the bed.

"Hey, careful there," Chin went to his uninjured side and hooked both hands under his arm to help him move, "You may be on pain killers and not be able to feel it so much, bruh, but don't rip your stitches on our account." The Hawaiian man plumped the pillows up behind his back for him.

"Well that explains why I feel so woozy..." The blonde gave his companions a lop-sided smile, his throat rough.

"That may have something to do with getting shot and losing a load of blood, boss." Kono approached him on the other side and smoothed down his sleep-mussed hair in a sisterly act, handing him a cup of water which he accepted happily, soothing his throat with the cool liquid before handing it back to her.

"Mmm I should probably avoid doing that on a regular basis," he gave Steve a little sleepy smile as the man curled his fingers around the bar on the end of his hospital bed, "If SuperSEAL here will ever stop getting me into trouble."

"Ouch, that's not fair," the SEAL finally spoke up, "I wasn't the one dumpster-diving for bad guys." His tone was teasing, but his eyes and smile were soft.

"We're glad you're alright, Danny. We just wanted to come check on you before we go file all the paperwork you've caused us." Chin patted his shoulder gently and moved for the door, and Kono followed him.

"Get well soon," her eyes flicked to the team's leader and then gave Danny a small wink. Or maybe the pain killers made him imagine it? He sometimes got the impression that the young woman was a lot more observant than people realised.

Chin waved and the two native team members were gone, leaving the partners alone.

"You okay?" Danny raised his eyebrows at Steve.

"You're seriously asking me if I'm okay?" Steve walked around the foot of the bed and approached his friend on his damaged side, "You're the one who took a bullet, Danno."

His hand rose up toward the detective's bandaged bicep, but fell away again as if he thought he might hurt him. The blonde reached up with his right hand, ignoring the pull in the skin and muscle and the weakness in the arm, and tangled his fingers into his boss's.

The brunette stilled for a moment, looking at his partner's hand in his, unsure. It was very strange to see the man pause at anything, normally barrelling through all situations in full control and no thought to his safety. Then he met Danny's eyes.

"I'm glad you're okay, Danno. They said you passed out in the ambulance; they were worried about your stats but... You're awake now, so..." he gave the Jersey man a shy smile, which looked adorable on him, and then he darted in quickly to peck him on the cheek with hesitant lips.

Danny snorted. "What are you, a twelve year old? C'mere," and he hooked his other hand around the SEAL's neck and brought him down for a gentle, but solid, kiss.

The taller man melted against him and let out a sigh against his cheek, trailing the fingers of his free hand up Danny's right arm to settle on his neck, palm gently pressing against the artery, registering his fluttering pulse.

This kiss was affectionate, slow and tender, no tongue or heat, just the light pressure of one man's lips on another's. It raised goosebumps on the detective's skin.

Danny pulled back and his eyes drifted open to see Steve, still frozen where he stood half-leaning over the injured man's bed, lashes low. He seemed to collect himself, and he cleared his throat and stood up straight, taking a moment to fully open his eyes.

"I um... uh... I should probably..." He waved at the door distractedly, "Yeah..."

The Jersey native smirked at the way he'd managed to fluster the Navy man. "Maybe when I get out of here, we could share a kiss that doesn't involved me being drugged up, dizzy from blood loss, or having a panic attack?"

"Uh yeah," the brunette coughed quietly again, "that would be good."

They shared a smile and Steve placed a hand on his friend's leg, warm through the sheets. "I should go and let the doctors know you're awake anyway... do you want me to stay?"

"And keep you from all your paperwork? Oh no, Steven, I think this is going to be one of the rare opportunities where I can get you to fill out my reports for me..." Danny leaned back comfortably against his pillows.

"Fair enough," the SEAL grinned, "I guess it's only fair that whoever gets a slug on the op shouldn't have to file their own report... what should I put down for the ten minutes we were stuck in the cupboard?"

"Might be best to omit the part where I bullied you with office supplies..." Danny flushed a little at the embarrassing episode.

"Anything else I should leave out?" The Commander gave him a toothy grin.

"I have no idea what you might be referring to, babe," the detective responded innocently, "other than the, frankly, expert techniques you used to calm a claustrophobic colleague in a difficult situation. Absolutely nothing untoward happened in that room..."

"Fair enough," Steve returned the smirk, "Call me when they release you, and I'll come and collect you. Then maybe I can get you settled in at your house and show you some more of my... frankly expert techniques?"

Danny let his gaze flicker down his boss's body, taking in the clubbing outfit in all its glory now that he could do so without worrying about being caught, and licked his lips.

"Sounds like a good idea to me..."