Danny would've liked to say he was surprised to see a light on in HQ. After all, it was five-thirty in the morning, about two hours or so before the normal people came crawling in.
But then, Danny had never said Steve was normal. Which was probably at least a good start on explaining why, when Danny walked into the office, he found Steve standing over the table.
The rest of the explanation could probably be found in the dozens of papers and computer windows he was poring over. Danny couldn't see what was on them all that well, but he was assuming that they were pretty interesting, what with how Steve didn't even look up from them when Danny came in.
It wasn't until Danny cleared his throat – in that I'm intentionally being a loud asshole to get your attention sort of way – that Steve even seemed to realize he wasn't alone.
Under normal circumstances, that would've been the green light for Danny to start grinning and making smart remarks. Because hell, you just didn't catch Steve McGarrett unawares.
But these weren't normal circumstances, and though he wasn't happy about it, Danny knew exactly why Steve was there at this God-awful time in the morning. Which is why, instead of a smug remark or even a grin, he let out a sigh and crossed the rest of the distance to stand across the table from his red-eyed partner.
"So if I asked you've slept any since I saw you last, I'd just be wasting my breath, right?"
Steve shrugged.
"No, see, the correct answer here would be 'No, Danno, but I was just leaving.'"
Now, Steve just looked confused, like Danny had just grown a second head or suggested he take up knitting. He looked down at his watch, then back up at Danny with a look that was dangerously close to incredulous. "It's five-thirty," he said. "Why the hell would I be leaving."
Sometimes, it was a wonder Danny hadn't ripped out all his hair. "Because it's five-thirty, and you've been here since four in the morning yesterday," he said. And if it came out a little like a snarl, then it wasn't his fault. Really, he loved the guy, but Steve could frustrate the seven bells out of him. Though this time, he couldn't be as mad as he wanted to be.
They were working a kidnapping case. One of Steve's old buddies from high school had come home from his graveyard shift at work to find his wife tied up in the pantry and his little girl missing. The ransom note they'd found stabbed into the wall with a steak knife had understandably left them both in a panic.
Naturally, he'd called Steve.
Danny had actually been there when Steve got the call. He'd slept over, and he watched from the bed as Steve paced the room with the phone pressed to his ear at three in the morning. Apparently, Steve knew the little girl, too. A couple cook-outs, birthday parties…so, needless to say, Steve was invested. In a big way.
Danny could understand. Everyone knew he had a soft spot for cases where kids were involved, especially when it was a little girl…it just seemed like every time he saw the photos, he saw Grace's face.
Which is why he felt more sympathy than anything when he saw the deep dark circles under Steve's eyes and the tension in his shoulders. The case had kept Danny up last night, too…but at least he'd gotten enough of a break that he didn't look like he was about to drop. As it was, Steve looked about one missed dose of caffeine – the four or five empty Styrofoam cups scattered across the table hinted at a pretty regular pattern) – from keeling over. They'd had a hell of a work load the week before all of this happened, and Danny had actually been looking forward to a bit of a break. Him, Steve, steaks on the grill and beers on the table…
It had been a nice dream while it lasted, anyway.
Dream or not, though, this was ridiculous. Steve had been running on fumes before all of this. He knew Steve was devoted to this case, but he was going to hit the wall going like he was.
"Listen," he said, walking around the table to Steve and propping his hip on it. He had intentionally put himself between Steve and his work, hoping to at least keep his attention for a minute or two.
Steve, for one, looked torn between being irritated and amused. That resigned sort of amusement, like he knew what was coming, knew he wasn't getting out of it, knew he was going to ignore it, but thought it was cute that Danny tried.
…not that Danny'd had any experience in this sort of exchange before.
"Would you please just go home?" Danny said. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Danny held up a hand. "Nonono…no…can I finish?"
Steve wisely shut his mouth, but if anything, he looked more entertained.
"Thank you. Now, since I know it would take a nuclear-grade explosion to get you to clear out of this place for more than an hour, and I don't have any nukes on hand, all I'm asking is that you run home, grab a shower, maybe something to eat that represents a couple of the other food gro—what? What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing, it's just…I think I know what it's like having a wife, now."
Danny raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? This—" he gestured between the two of them, "—is what you think it's like being married?" He let out a sort of snorted chuckle. "That's funny. Really, that's hilarious," he said, and then his face went dead serious and he pointed at the door. "Now go."
That seemed to be the "all kidding aside" moment, because Steve's face sobered. "I'm not going, Danno. I have a change of clothes here if it bothers you so much—"
"No, you wanna know what bothers me?" The question was rhetorical, and Steve luckily had the presence of mind to keep his mouth shut as Danny shifted his weight forward. If he was trying to be a little more imposing, it didn't really work, but that might've been because Steve just knew him too well. Still, Danny figured, with Steve knowing him so well, that he'd know that there were some fights it was just better to throw. "What bothers me is this one-man army schtick you're pulling."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Shtick?"
"You know what I mean," Danny said. "I know it's hard to believe, but I can take care of things here for an hour or two while you go and…" he gestured up and down Steve's disheveled person, "…revive yourself."
Pulling an indignant sort of face, Steve opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Danny once again cut him off.
"Go, Superman. I'll hold down the Fortress of Solitude until you get back," he said, and to punctuate his point, he gave Steve a firm shove in the right direction.
It was times like this that he was reminded why women drooled over his partner. Shoving Steve in the chest was kind of like shoving solid steel covered in 100% cotton (light gray, crew-necked cotton, to be specific).
Steve, for his part, still didn't look sold. He really was bent on solving this case, and when Steve got bent on something, he could be damn stubborn.
Luckily for Danny, stubbornness wasn't something he lacked, either. And he liked to think he was a little sneakier than Steve.
Granted, a Mac truck full of exploding firecrackers was sneakier than Steve.
"Steve," he said, "if anything happens, I'll call you. Chin and Kono should be here soon; we'll take care of things until you get back."
Steve seemed to consider Danny's proposal, and it was a sure sign of just how wiped out he really was that finally, he sighed. "Call me if anything happens," he said.
That was Steve for, "Okay, yeah, you win, but I'm at least going to get something out of you."
And who was Danny to deny such a simple, albeit veiled request? He nodded and smiled. "Number one on my speed dial," he said, and after snagging a quick kiss, he turned Steve around by his shoulders. "And…march, two, three, four…"
"You're not funny."
"I'm hilarious."
"Just keep telling yourself that."
"Plan to. Now, I don't want to see that ruggedly handsome mug of yours around here until you've had breakfast, a shower, a change of clothes, and a shave."
Danny was actually relieved when Steve turned just past the door, a ghost of a grin forcing its way through the haggard worry that had lined his face since Danny came in that morning.
"You think I'm handsome?" he said.
Danny promptly closed the door in his face.