Hey! Another prompted story! It's going to be a three parter I think! Aim to update daily.
Please read and review - I find it hard to reply to them all, but I promise I do read them all!
GB xox
Tell me you love me (& that it's all gonna be alright)
1
The Palace is unusually quiet, most of the staff having already headed home to spend the Festive period with their families. Office's are empty; computers powered down and lights switched off, paperwork filed away and waste paper baskets emptied. Danny walks past many of the empty rooms, heads for one he knows is still occupied. He taps his knuckles softly on the glass door, just loud enough for Steve to hear him, before folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the door frame.
"Shouldn't you be heading home by now?" Steve asks as he yanks open a desk drawer, shoves a stack of papers inside. Looks up at the blonde detective; doesn't miss the red rimmed eyes, the dry and flaky nose, and pale, clammy skin.
"It will still be there when we get back, you know." Danny nods to the papers as Steve slams the drawer shut. "It thought we could go and grab a beer." Sounds full of cold.
"Out of sight, out of mind." Steve smiles, flicks his eyebrows up mischievously, and Danny shakes his (fuzzy) head lightly, tries to bite back his own smile, because even after all these years, Steve's aversion to paperwork still amuses him slightly. "Aren't you picking Grace up?"
"It was just a thought." Danny shrugs casually as one arm uncrosses to rub at his already sore nose. "Grace decided to stay home for Christmas. She didn't want to get sick." Tries, and fails, to sound nonchalant. Both arms fall to his side before he pushes them deep into his pants pockets and shifts on his feet.
"Okay, sure." Steve nods, because he knows how hard being alone over the holidays can be.
"Great." Danny beams, pulls a hand free and gestures at the immaculate office. "Are you ready to go now, or do you have some more paperwork that you need to hide away until the New Year?"
"I'm ready." Steve nods as he pushes himself up to stand, flicks off the desk lamp. "Can we stop by the Post Office first, though? I need to send Mary a card."
"Woah, you're leaving it a little late, aren't you?" Danny scoffs, rolling his shoulders as two hands worm free from his pockets and start to wave swiftly in the air as he continues. "You know most people send them at the beginning of December, just to make sure they get there in time, right? Are you even aware of how the American postal system works – or any postal system world wide, for that matter? Because it's not instantaneous like sending a text message or an email."
"I know." Steve nods. "She knows I always send them late. I'm just too busy, so I forget."
"I find the time to send Mom and Dad one." Danny shrugs, wraps his arms back around his chest. "And I do more work than you." Steve steps back in mock offence.
"You don't do more work than me." He shakes his head.
"Sure I do. I actually do my paperwork." Eyes flick to the closed drawer and back to Steve. "And yours most of the time, too."
"That's because I do most of the hard work." Steve retorts, provoking one of Danny's hands to work free and swoop before him. "What is that supposed to mean?" Danny tilts his head slightly, juts his chin out defensively.
"Nothing." Steve shakes his head. "Just that I most of the...stunts...and you do most of the...well...paperwork."
"We both know that's not true." Danny shakes his head, shoves his hand back in his pocket, straightens his back and squares his shoulders. "I do just as much of the heavy lifting as you do. Bar grenades. I even have scars to prove it."
Steve narrows his eyes as he seems to ponder that, then sighs a little as he shrugs in defeat.
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"Yeah, Danno. You're right. Now let's go and grab that beer." Steve steps around his desk, and Danny moves aside as Steve walks past him, leaving the office.
"Woah, I'm right?! Just like that?" Danny asks for clarification, one hand flying out of his pocket and hovering in front of him, ready for action. Steve turns back to face him, amusement evident on his face.
"Yep, 'just like that'. Now are you coming, or not?"
"I don't understand you sometimes, do you know that?" Danny shakes his head, accepting the easy win for once. "First round is on you."
"I didn't bring my wallet to work today, so..."
"Yeah, yeah, why am I not surprised?" Danny snorts. "I guess I'm paying for Mary's card as well?"
"Thanks, Danno. I normally slip a fifty in there, too." Steve smiles. "I'll pay you back."
"You spend more of my money than Rachel ever did." Danny mumbles, as he pulls the wallet from his back pocket and flicks through the notes to make sure he has enough. "Gonna need to find an ATM on the way."
"I'll drive." Steve offers, taking the Camaro's keys from Danny's hand before he can object. He knows better by now though, so he nods, forces his wallet back into his pocket, and follows Steve as they head towards the large, glass entrance doors of Five-0 HQ.
They're both as surprised as each other to see the familiar, stooped man slowly heading towards them, wearing the usual khaki shirt and black shorts.
"Hey Bobby. You're working late, aren't you?" Danny greets Robert, their regular mail-man.
"Just got some last minute mail to deliver." Robert replies gruffly as he sorts through a pile of envelopes in his hands. "Just the one for you guys though." He hands a small, red envelope off to Danny, then turns on his heel and starts to shuffle towards the other mostly vacant offices. "Gotta keep moving, running late. Missus is gonna kill me. Mele Kalikimaka." The older man says as he scuffles away.
"Yeah, you too, Buddy." Steve calls after him, as Danny twirls the envelope in his fingers; it's unmarked, all except '5.0' scrawled in a gold, metallic ink, and the fold is sealed with a thick tape. "It's probably for me." Steve immediately concludes, and Danny nods, because he doesn't recognise the writing, and other than the one his parents send religiously every 15th December, he doesn't receive Christmas cards.
"Yeah, you're right." Danny agrees, hands it over. "It's probably from the Governor. Wait, does he even send cards?" Because he can't recall the team ever getting one from him before now, and the more he thinks about it, the more he can remember Steve receiving the same colour envelope with the same gold scrawl for the past few years. Curiosity peeks.
"Probably. It feels like a card." Steve nods. "I'll open it later." He shrugs as he turns around and heads back towards his office.
"Oh, c'mon, you have to open it." Danny insists, following Steve, watches as he pulls open the same drawer as earlier and shoves it inside. "It could be anything from anyone. It could be important." A finger raised mid-air to accentuate his point.
"It's not important, Danny." Steve answers confidently, steps back around the desk. "It can wait until after the Holidays – the one we are still yet to start, so come on, let's get out of here."
"Oh no Steven, you are just being rude." Danny says, rocks up onto the balls of his feet and back down again. "You must be a little curious, right?" Because Danny is.
"Nope." Steve shakes his head, because he's received one every year for the past fifteen – a card from the ex-girlfriend he'd much rather forget, with nothing but the same cell phone number, golden initials, and a smudged kiss stain.
"Oh, yes you are. You just don't want to admit it." Danny wags his finger, edges around the furniture and pulls open the drawer. "Open it." He insists, pulling the envelope out and holding it for Steve to take.
"I don't want to." Steve replies defiantly, folding his arms across his chest to stop himself from taking it, and Danny's curiosity hits a new level.
"Fine." Danny says, twirling the envelope in his hand. "Then I will." Watches the faintest hint of panic cross McGarrett's face as he pushes his pinky finger under the smallest gap in the seal. "Who's to say it's not for me anyway?"
"Danny..." Steve starts, his eye widening at the sound of paper ripping as Danny's finger edges slowly along the top crease. He takes a step closer, holds his hand out. "C'mon, we can open it later."
"Nope." Danny shakes his head, enjoys his partners discomfort too much, because he's learnt how to read McGarrett, knows when he's hiding something. "Why are you so desperate to avoid it, huh, Steven? Maybe it's from an ex-girlfriend. You know what they say about Sailor's, right? Girl at every port and all that..." Knows he's hit the nail on the head when Steve's eye's widen slightly, and he swallows hard.
"Danny..." A hint of a warning this time, as he moves forwards to grab the half opened envelope, but Danny's too quick, has it out of his reach just in time. "You're so juvenile." Steve scorns, grabbing at the envelope again, and Danny wags his eyebrows at Steve as he pulls the Christmas card free.
"And you're too defensive." Danny retorts, feels the urge to poke his tongue out, but decides against it, opts for reading the bold words on the front of the card out loud instead. "Please Note: Christmas has been cancelled. Apparently, you told Santa you've been good this year, so he died laughing." Danny laughs, looks up at an annoyed Steve. "They know you too well, Babe."
"Hand it over." Steve sighs, hand outstretched, but Danny is having too much fun.
"Look, it even has a picture of a snuffed Santa." Danny continues to jest, but stops laughing as Steve pounces, unexpected, and grabs one half of the card before Danny has a chance to open it.
"Hey!" Danny shouts, holding on to his half and tugging slightly. The card pings open, rips down the centre, and powder puffs between them, clings to Danny's dress shirt and Steve's tee shirt, in Danny's mouth and up Steve's nose. Neither moves; Danny glares at Steve, Steve stares at his half of the card.
"Spoil sport." Danny eventually huffs, throwing his half of the card on the desk and brushing the powder off of him. "So who's it from? I like the fake snow effect – I'll have to show that to Grace, she'll love it." Waits for an answer, but doesn't get one. "Hello? Earth to Steven?" Snaps his fingers loudly and waves a hand to get Steve's attention.
"There's no name." Steve eventually answers. "It doesn't say anything."
"Oh. Oh well." Danny shrugs, no longer having fun now the game of taunt-Steve has ended, "Let's get out of here then."
"We can't." Steve says, his brow furrowing, as Danny heads for the door.
"Why not?" Danny asks, perplexed.
"Did we close the entrance doors before heading back here?" Steve asks, because he can't remember.
"Why?" Danny asks.
"Just answer me, dammit." Steve almost yells, and Danny's recognises that face.
"I, uh, I don't remember." He replies, swallows hard.
"Okay." Steve nods, rubs his forehead as he tries to kick start his brain. "Close the office door."
"What? Why?"
"Danny, just do it." Steve commands, his voice eerily calm, and Danny gets the same shiver down his spine that he gets when Steve's about to do something really dangerous, or someone has a gun pointed at one of the Five-0 members.
"What's going on?" He asks as the door clicks shut.
"We need to call HPD, get bio down here, shut off the air vent system."
"Steve, have you lost your mind?" Danny asks, the joke falling flat as worry laces each word.
"The powder..."
"It was just fake snow."
"What if it wasn't? What if..."
"What if what, Steve?"
"It was something more serious?" Steve pulls his cell phone from his pocket, starts to tap on the glass screen.
"More serious? How serious?" Danny watches as Steve closes his eyes, presses the phone to his ear and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Steve, how serious?!" He repeats, louder, and concerned eyes meet his. "Like Anthrax, or something?" Danny asks, his voice an octave higher, as he realises, without Steve having to answer, that that's exactly what Steve means.