A/N: Set early season one. Since Netflix quit carrying it, I don't have a good way to fact check against the first few eps for inconsistencies. Sorry if there's any errors.

Based on a true story. I walked in on my colleague the other day on the phone with his son. Apparently junior lost the house key and was stuck outside after the school bus dropped him off. The ensuing conversation was hilarious, so I decided to preserve the basic gist of it for posterity here.

…

Well, crap. On the off chance that he might have missed something, Danny patted his pockets thoroughly, then turned them inside out. Nothing. He searched the area around the doormat in a futile effort, huffing angrily under his breath, already knowing what he was searching for wouldn't be there. He retraced his steps out to the dumpster and back, to no avail. It was all a pointless exercise in false hope. He grabbed the doorknob and shook it viciously, but of course it remained stubbornly closed. Danny sighed.

It was too early to call the apartment office- the place ran on something called 'island time' and didn't open until at least 10, regardless of the hours posted in the office window.

Late on his first week of work. Trapped, alone, on this god-forsaken island. Forced to work with the world's most irritating idiot.

He closed his eyes.

He counted to 10.

He conjured up a picture of a smiling, happy girl with two dark braids and sparkling eyes. "The things I do for you, Monkey," he muttered. Then he pulled out his phone, hesitating once more before he finally dialing.

"McGarrett."

"Hi Steve. I, uh…" Danny groaned inwardly. "I'm locked out of my apartment."

"Did you lose your keys?"

"No, no, I know exactly where they are- they're on the kitchen counter."

"And you are…?"

"Outside." That part should have been obvious. "Look, do you know a cheap locksmith?" Danny's first paycheck from the task force still hadn't cleared and he didn't exactly have a lot of spare change lying around.

Steve snorted. "Never used one. Just pick the lock."

"That sounds illegal."

"It's your apartment."

Yes, but… Danny protested mentally. He patted his pockets down again. "I don't have anything that would work," he said. "If Grace were here, I could use her hairclip, but I'm all out at the moment."

"Okay, so kick in the door."

Danny started to laugh, then realized he was serious. "You can't... That's not… That is definitely illegal," he sputtered. "And do you want me kicked out of here? My landlord will have me on the street before dark if I pulled that stunt."

"Street might be better."

"Shut up. My apartment is not that bad. And it is not easy trying to find a place to live that isn't a dump and doesn't eat me out of house and home. I'm not made of money, like you apparently are. I actually have bills to pay, a family to support. You think if there were any other place I could go, I wouldn't have taken it?" Danny paced agitatedly in front of the door, scuffing his shoes along the heat-buckled concrete. "Have you never been locked out of your house before?"

"I don't usually lock my house."

"Of course you don't." Danny rolled his eyes. "Well you should." He checked his watch. "Look, if you aren't going to be helpful, I'll just find a locksmith myself."

"I ambeing helpful. Not my fault if you don't like my suggestions."

"Well suggest something good."

"Okay. Go through a window. Your apartment doeshave windows, right?"

"Yes, it's not a cave." Danny squinted up at the second-story window to the left. "You know that looks a lot like breaking and entering, right?"

"So don't get caught."

"In broad daylight?"

"I'd do it."

"Of course you would," Danny muttered. Setting the phone down, he briefly tried the small window next to the front door. It was locked. The second-story walkway leading up to the door ended a few feet beyond at an iron railing, and Danny leaned out to get a look at the side of the apartment building. Two more windows squatted in the cinderblock walls- one for the living room and one for the bedroom. Danny decided the bedroom was his best bet. Picking up the phone again, he began to climb over the railing.

"Got any tips for me before I start, Tarzan?"

"Don't fall?"

"Worthless. You're absolutely worthless." Danny put the phone on speaker and tucked it into his belt. "I don't suppose you'd want to drive over here and vouch for me?"

"Vouch for you?"

"After I get caught," Danny clarified, reaching for the first window. He stuck his foot out, searching for purchase on the painted cinderblocks. "You know it's going to happen. Some little old busybody is going to see me hanging from the window and call the cops and-"

"You know, if you focused more on opening the window and less on talking, you'd probably be inside already."

Danny grunted, exertion muffling the curse on the tip of his tongue. Pushing off from the balcony, he swung out, scrabbled against the wall until his toes found a small nook, and pushed himself up. Propping one arm on the windowsill, he tugged at the window.

Locked.

Danny wasn't really surprised. He never opened that window anyway. Too much trouble. But the bedroom window…

Swinging his legs, he caught a drain pipe, pulled himself over, and then reached for the second windowsill. Repeating the same procedure as the first, he propped himself up, tugged at the metal frame, and this time was rewarded as the latch gave with a small snap. Hanging as he was from such an awkward angle, Danny struggled to raise the window further, but finally succeeded in gaining about a foot. He shoved one arm inside, feeling about for something to grab onto, and then threw a leg up to help balance the load.

His arms shook from the exertion, so he paused now to rest, half inside, half dangling out over the parking lot and the rose bushes.

And then he noticed a new problem.

"Steve? You still with me?"

"Yeah."

"Got a new problem here."

"Okay, shoot."

"I'm stuck."

"Stuck how?"

Danny took a deep breath, placed both hands on the windowsill, and pushed his body upwards against the partly-open window frame. The window groaned but didn't budge. Next, he tried sliding forward the rest of the way into the apartment, but his tie or his shirt or something had gotten caught and he couldn't move forward without ripping one of them to shreds. Perhaps if he moved backwards, he could wiggle out far enough…? But no, the opening that he had somehow squeezed through moments before now proved too small for a return trip. He huffed a sigh and dropped his cheek onto the windowsill.

"The opening is too small- I can't get in."

"So push it open further."

Danny pushed upwards again with his back. "Nope. Doesn't work."

"Okay. Go out and try again."

"Yeah, I can't really get back out, either."

"Are you in your apartment then?"

"Well…" Danny looked down at the leg and hand on his left side. "Half of me is." He thought he heard Steve snorting in the background. "Like you wouldn't have gotten stuck- you're twice my size."

But Steve didn't take the bait. "I've got some friends on the force. Why don't I call Duke and have him send someone over to help you out?"

"You're kidding, right?" Danny couldn't think of a worse punishment. "I'm a haole." It was the first word he'd learned after arriving here. "The whole department despises me, and it doesn't help that you picked me for your little task force over the rest of them. You didn't pick a single local off the HPD- instead, you picked an outsider from Jersey, a kid who never even made it out of the academy, and a guy who got booted off the force. You know how much hazing I went through when I went back to clean out my locker?"

Steve was surprisingly quiet on the other end. "That bad, huh?" he said after a moment.

"Let's just say it's not something I care to go through again."

"I'm sorry, Danny," Steve said quietly, and Danny knew that he meant it.

"It's fine. I mean," Danny squirmed against the window frame, "it's not really, but it is what it is. Can we just focus on getting me out of this mess?"

"Why don't I come down there?" Steve asked and Danny heard the truck door slam in the background.

"That would be great," he said in relief.

…

Danny's relief was short-lived. In fact, it lasted twelve minutes. While draped like a rug over the window sill, he noticed a neighbor across the way on his phone, glancing surreptitiously in Danny's direction. Danny had a pretty good idea what he was up to.

"Hey. Hey! Yeah, you!" Danny waved in the man's direction. "Did you call for help?"

The man eyed him warily. "I got your photo, brah, so don't try anything. And I gave them a description. They'll catch you, even if you do escape before they get here."

"I don't want to escape! I live here."

"I've never seen you around here." Feeling bolder, the man left the shelter of the cars and came a few steps closer. "You don't sound like you're from around here, either."

"I'm not. Just moved."

"Uh huh," the man responded dubiously.

"I'm serious. I locked myself out this morning."

"So why not call the super?"

"It's too early."

"Call his cell."

"I don't have his cell."

" 'Course you don't." The man backed off and Danny turned his head away from the cool breeze floating out his apartment window. The man was irritating and he decided it would be better to face the cinderblocks inside than have to talk to Mr. Annoying outside.

His neck began to hurt and cramp and he wiggled against the window but stopped when something in the wood frame groaned alarmingly. No point in accidentally breaking the window; he doubted insurance would cover it. Danny oofedand lowered his head onto the sharp corner of the window sill, trying to relax.

Then he heard the sirens.

…

"You say you're a cop?"

Danny didn't recognize either of the two officers who had responded to the neighbor's 911 call, but that didn't mean much- HPD was massive, with multiple stations spread across the entire district. In his short time on the force, Danny estimated he'd only gotten to know a handful of the other guys on the force.

Of course, these two were in no hurry to help him get down. They'd taken one look, had a nice, long laugh, radioed something in, and then sauntered over for a nice, long interview. Danny glared at the lead officer and wondered where the heck his partner was. "Yes."

"Where's your ID?"

"It's inside. Along with my badge and gun."

"You're armed?"

Whoops. Mistake. Abort, abort… Danny stuck both hands out the window. "Do you see a gun? My weapon- which I am licensed to carry by the Honolulu PD- is inside." Danny pointed awkwardly in the direction of his front door. "If you'll just open the door, I can show you."

"Or you could shoot me."

"Where would I be hiding a gun, Einstein?"

The officer straightened. "I don't like your tone." He turned to his partner. "Disrespectful, don't you think?"

"Yep," the younger one nodded. "I think he should learn how to respect authority."

"I think so too."

Danny groaned. "I did not mean any disrespect…"

"Not what it sounded like to me."

"I just want to get down and get this whole thing sorted out." He paused. "Please."

"Well…" the two officers conferred briefly before the older one nodded. "You did say please."

"Thank you," Danny nodded in relief.

"We're gonna get a ladder and pull you out on this side. Just hang tight," the man snorted at his own joke, "and we'll have you out in a bit."

Danny bit back a fresh retort and forced himself to remain civil. "Can't you go in through the door?"

The officer shook his head. "Until we know it's your apartment, we don't have authority to go busting in doors."

"Should tell that to Steve," Danny muttered.

…

By the time Steve arrived, Danny was safely back on the ground and, aside from some scrapes and bruises, apparently none the worse for wear. His temper, on the other hand, was nearing boiling point. Handcuffed, patted down, and forced to lean up against the hot hood of the squad car in the blazing Hawaiian sun, Danny was feeling moments away from spontaneously erupting when Steve finally pulled into the lot.

"Hey!" Danny called as soon as Steve exited the truck. "Took you long enough. Tell these two gentlemenwho I am!"

Steve cast him a passing glance, then sauntered slowly across the parking lot without responding. Ignoring Danny, he approached the two officers. "What've you got?"

"B&E," the younger one said, jabbing a thumb in Danny's direction. "Idiot tried to go through the second-story window and got stuck." He snickered. "Claims he's a cop."

The other officer outright laughed. "We asked him for proof- guess what he said?"

Steve feigned ignorance. "What?"

"Said he worked for you!" Slapping his leg, the first officer looked back at the red-faced Jersey detective and burst into laughter. "Him! Haole! Tie and dress shirt! Working for you!"

"It's called professionalism, thank you!" Danny called back. "Tell them, Steve!"

But Steve never turned in his direction. "Did he offer you any evidence?"

"Tried to make us open the apartment. Said we'd find everything we needed inside. Of course, we couldn't do that."

"Then," the second man continued, "he told us to check his phone. Said your number was in there."

Now Steve was curious. "What did you find?"

"This." Holding out the confiscated phone, the officer pointed to the Recent Callslist. Steve squinted at the top number.

Numbskull

Steve smirked. "What do you plan to do with him?"

"Book him on B&E for starters. Impersonating an officer. Maybe a few others." The officer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But first we gotta run him down to Queen's."

"Queen's? Is he injured?" Now Steve turned around and took a good look at his partner. Danny didn't look injured. Mad as a hornet, maybe, and sunburned, but he seemed to be in one piece. "Did he fall?"

The two officers shared a knowing grin. "He didn't fall from up there, if that's what you're asking," the first man said, pointing to the second story window. "He got down to right about, oh, there-" he raised his hand roughly four feet off the ground, "and then he took a tumble… into that."

Steve followed his pointing finger. A wide smile broke out across his face. "Well that's got to be uncomfortable."

"Yeah. Wasn't too happy when we frisked him. Howled like baby." The officer mimicked a high-pitch shriek while the other burst out laughing.

Steve grinned. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Sure thing." The trio strolled slowly in Danny's direction. "Hey, how'd you hear about this, anyway? I didn't think we called in your name over the radio."

"You didn't." Leaving the question unanswered, Steve stopped in front of his partner and gave him a good once-over. Danny's shirt was soaked, his tie hung limply in the humid air, and dark streaks from the window sill stained his pristinely pressed garments. His hair, normally well-groomed, was strung wildly about, and his face was a deep red, either from anger, heat, or both. The detective looked entirely a hot, sad mess. "Looks a little crispy," Steve observed.

"Freaking morons left me baking in the sun. I'll probably get skin cancer," Danny griped.

"And by 'morons,' I'm assuming you mean these fine, upstanding officers of the law?"

"Fine? Upstanding?" Danny sputtered.

Steve cut him off before he could go further. "You're not getting cancer," he said bluntly. Taking Danny's arm, he pulled him into the shade under the apartment balcony while the two officers hovered nearby, smirking. "Turn around a second."

"I'll pass, babe."

"Babe?" the first officer piped up. "That's Commander McGarrett you're talking to."

"I know who he is, thanks," Danny spat back.

"So turn around."

Rolling his eyes, Danny turned slowly, unable to hide a wince.

Steve's eyes widened and he grimaced in sympathy. Attached to and puncturing Danny's nicely-pressed slacks was a long, winding rose stem armed with a set of wicked-looking thorns. "Ouch."

"Ruined a good pair of pants," Danny muttered. "I freaking hate this place."

"Not the rose-bush's fault you decided to sit on it."

"No, it's their fault for not opening my apartment door and letting me out the easy way," Danny retorted, jerking his head toward the HPD officers.

The second officer shook his head. "We already told you, sir- we can't do that." He turned to Steve. "The guy's been like this the whole time. Whine and moan, whine and moan."

"Yeah, I bet," Steve remarked, earning a glare from his partner.

"You never told us how you ended up over here," the officer continued. "You said you didn't hear us on the radio, so…?"

"I heard it from him." Steve jerked a thumb back at the angry detective.

"From him." Nonplussed, the officer shot a questioning glance the 'prisoner.' "What do you mean?"

Steve picked up Danny's phone and pointed to Numbskullon the screen. "That's me."

"That's you? Hang on." The officer looked back and forth between the two. "What am I missing here?"

Steve figured the joke had gone on long enough. Plucking a handcuff key from his pocket, he pulled Danny forward and unlocked his cuffs. "Officers, I'd like you to meet Detective Daniel Williams, New Jersey PD."

Danny, rubbing his wrists, only glared.

The two officers stared back.

"Detective Williams just moved to Hawaii recently."

"And he can't wait to move back," Danny growled.

"He joined the task force as my partner last week," Steve finished. "Apparently he locked himself out of the apartment this morning. I drove over to help him out, but you two got here first."

"Help me out? Help. Me. Out?!" Danny threw an accusatory finger in Steve's direction but stopped short of jabbing him with it. He remembered what happened the last time. "There was no 'help' going on today, you putz. You got me into this mess- if I hadn't followed your idiotic advice, I'd still be- ahg!" He broke off, turning away as his zealous gesturing jostled some of the thorns in his rear. Plucking a piece out, he hurled the offending thorn away. "Freaking… little… piece of…"

"It's just a thorn, Danny."

"Bite me, Steven," Danny growled, his hand rubbing the delicate area tenderly. Swinging around, he limped slowly toward Steve's truck.

The two HPD officers eyed the retreating detective nervously. "So… he was telling the truth?" the first one ventured to Steve.

"Yup."

"You're his partner?"

"Yeah."

"And he's a genuine detective?"

"Yeah."

"On the Honolulu police force?"

"Yes."

"And is he… is he like thatall the time?"

"Pretty much."

The man lowered his voice. "How can you stand it?"

"I can hear you, you know!" Danny called out. He leaned carefully against the side of the vehicle and plucked at something on his pants. "Just because you two imbeciles can't figure out how to properly ID a guy-" but he stopped again with a pained grunt.

"Takes some getting used to," Steve told the pair with a shrug, "but he grows on you. "The key is to let him talk and just nod or hum every once in a while so he thinks you're still listening."

"I heard that!" Danny exclaimed.

Steve winked at the officers. "Guess I'd better get him to the hospital." He headed toward the vehicle but paused and turned abruptly.

"Just to be clear," he began, drawing himself up to his full height and folding his arms menacingly, "I'm assuming you tried to check the detective's identity using everymeans at your disposal," he hissed, making sure Danny was out of earshot, "and I am sure that if I were to check the records, I would find that you had radioed for confirmation of a Detective Williams on my task force. I am sure that a clerical error prevented you from realizing that the detective was a member of my task force, and that hadyou known, this whole situation would have happened quite differently."

The two officers swallowed nervously.

"I am also quite certain," Steve continued in a low rumble, "that this little misunderstanding won't happen again."

The older officer gulped. "No, sir. It won't happen again."

The younger officer shook his head vigorously.

"Then you won't mind fetching the Detective's wallet and badge," Steve told the first man.

When the older man had gone, Steve turned to the younger officer. The man flinched. "So…" Steve asked loudly, "which road has more potholes- Ala Moana or Pali highway?"

Danny, who had been struggling to climb into the truck, stopped to listen.

"I, uh, recommend Pali," the younger man responded nervously, trying to follow Steve's lead. "Definitely a lot of rough roadwork-"

"Listen here, you bumbling baboon," Danny called across the parking lot, pointing an accusing finger at Steve, "you better take me on the nicest, smoothest roads Hawaii has to offer. I should feel like I'm riding on cotton. On clouds. I should feel like the streets of your precious paradise are paved with silk…"

Grinning, Steve patted the younger officer on the shoulder, eliciting another flinch. Then he moved to the truck and guided Danny into the backseat as the detective ranted on. The younger officer stood at a distance as Steve tried to situate the detective as gently as possible, the process punctuated with curse words and heated exclamations in Jersey slang. When the older officer returned, he hastily turned the items over to Steve and then retreated to observe from a safe distance.

"I suppose we should apologize," the younger officer said, watching Steve climb into the driver's seat.

"For what? It was an accident."

"Is that the story we're going with?"

"It is if you're smart."

"But McGarrett-"

"McGarrett owns that idiot- we don't. And McGarrett protects his own… even if they are annoying Jersey runts."

"So he fell off the ladder."

"Yes."

"Just a few feet off the ground."

"That's what I saw happen."

There was a pause as they turned and watched the truck turn a corner and disappear out of sight. The second officer finally nodded. "That's what I saw, too."

…

A/N: I quit watching Hawaii Five-0 this season. I gave it a good try and made it to around Christmas, but the magic just isn't there anymore. I like Junior and Tani- they aren't the problem. Can't really put my finger on it. If I've missed any good eps this spring, let me know. I'd like to enjoy it again, but I was just bored to death. Until then, I'll be making up the adventures I wish they were having.