Wouldn't Have Happened in Jersey.
Disclaimer: Don't own H50. How different things would be...
A/N: This is my first 5-0 fic and I'd love to hear what you think! No flames please.
"Holy mother of God!" Danny squeezed his eyes firmly shut again, burying his face deep into the pillow. Stupid Hawaii letting stupid light through the stupid window and straight into his stupid hung over retinas. Without moving his eyes from deep in his pillow he flung out an arm to rummage in his bedside draw for an Aspirin, pulling one out with a triumphant laugh before wincing at the spike of pain through his eyes. He swallowed it dry before trying to remember what the hell had happened to him.
His top half ached all over and that sounded about right, couple of guys they'd been chasing yesterday had apparently mistaken him for a piñata however given the state Steve had left them in when he found out that particular party game was probably ruined for them. Good.
He winced as he poked at a particularly sore spot, a nasty looking bruise under his ribs and decided a shower is most likely the best next course of action. Given his injuries sitting up was going to be difficult but somehow he managed to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and lever himself upright and right there something wasn't right. There was a sharp stinging just below and to the left of his naval, the waist of his boxers -yesterdays boxers- was pressing against something it shouldn't. And yep, that definitely wasn't right, something was seriously wrong with this picture because that gauze pad had not been there yesterday when the EMTs had sent him home with instructions to rest. It at least hadn't been there before he'd gone and gotten drunker than ever before. Ah well, at least he'd had the presence of mind to get whatever it was patched up.
Sighing and then wincing because hey he was hung over and everything hurt. He padded into the bathroom and looked for a fresh gauze pad in his first aid kit since he didn't want it getting infected. Taking a damp piece of tissue he dabbed at the tape holding it on- and ain't that a bitch of a way to snap you out of a hangover? Dabbing freezing cold water dangerously close to his dick- to make it hurt less to take off.
He gently peeled it off, mentally preparing himself for whatever was down there. And wow, ok. Turns out there was one situation he wasn't prepared for. He stared down at his skin, then checked the mirror for a second, then looked back down and no. How is this his life? How, of all the mother fucking people on this island -in the world- why is he the one waking up with the words 'Property of Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett' tattooed elegantly into his skin? He knew that the phrase was used to death but fuck that because it's true, this kind of shit just never happened in Jersey. Right now Danny can't bring himself to care that this isn't Hawaii's fault or that he actually wouldn't mind if the words were true or that it could have been worse, it could have been on his face rather than somewhere relatively easy to hide, he can't bring himself to care because he's staring down at the red, sore area of skin with the words that will now haunt him forever scrawled elegantly into his skin in a neat, simple font and he just keeps thinking how screwed he is.
Danny could have cried. He could have bawled like a baby. Steve was his boss and his friend – scratch that – his best friend and given that Steve was an army guy (You do this just to upset me. Does my pain please you, huh? Do you enjoy this Danno? Don't you smirk at me like that, I can see you Danno!) and given that when Steve had joined up with the SEALS DADT was still firmly in place and that Danny had met Catherine he was 99.9% sure that Steve was straight. That totally sucked for Danny because despite (or maybe for some twisted reason because of) all Steve's crazy and truckloads of emotional baggage he had gone and fallen head over heels for the man.
Danny sighed and ducked his head. He caught sight of the clock in the mirror. He was late, he usually picked Steve up in five minutes. Well this was a good start to the day.
He contemplated calling Steve and telling him he was sick and couldn't come in today but given that Steve was there yesterday for the first couple of shots even he would work out it was only a hangover and then he would just come over and try to give Danny some cure he'd discovered in The-ass-end-of-nowhere-istan and Danny remembered only too well what happened last time. ('My streak Steven! Your concoction of God only knows what broke my streak!' 'Danno, relax. There was nothing there th-... Don't you dare throw up on me!) Danny smirked despite himself. Steve had refused to speak to him for the rest of the day and then made him buy him a new pair of cargo pants.
"Danny!" He was pulled out of his flashback and hurriedly put on the new dressing and pulled up his boxers before covering his ears to try to block out some of the wood splintering blows.
"Danno? If you don't open this door in ten seconds I swear I am going to kick-" Steve was cut off as the door swung open and he was dragged inside.
"Were the next words going to be 'your ass' or 'your door down' because I've got to say I'm not sure which one angers me more?"
"Umm, neither?"
"Good answer. Now riddle me this Super SEAL. What in the name of New Jersey are you doing here?"
"You were late so I-"
"So you what? You thought you'd come over here and raise the dead with your noise and then threaten to damage my property?"
"But-"
"No. This is my time Steven, you don't get to talk. Now see Steve your logic is flawed since; A) You knew damn well I'd be hung over this morning since you initiated post hand grenade tequila which, by the way, we are going to discuss in detail once my head is pounding less. Don't you roll your eyes at me, explosives kill and one of these days I am going to find a pin floating around in my car missing its grenade and I tell you now Steve I do not want to die. If you get me blown up you'd better as hell fill the Danno shaped void that leaves in my daughter's life because I would rather burn in hell than leave my daughter alone with Step-Stan. Back to my original points B) I am not late. Yes I was going to be late but when you left your house this morning you could not possibly have known that little tid-bit unless you have cameras in my house and you are watching me when I sleep which is downright creepy! Oh! No! I know that look. That is your guilty face. Steven do you have cameras in my house?"
"I have to know, during that little speech did you stop for breath like, at all? Because honestly with breath holding ability like that you could be a SEAL although we would have to teach you to swim first..."
"I swim just fine, I'll have you know I. I will not rise to it." Steve just grinned big and goofy at him.
"Also? You are late. Clearly you've forgotten your promise. You said yesterday that you'd come in early to help with the paperwork as it's Kono's day off." Danny froze on the verge of a new rant. Damn him, he was right. He opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly witty but stopped when he realised Steve was staring at him.
"What?"
"You're hurt."
"No shit Sherlock. I'm black and blue all over." Danny waved a hand at his bruised upper torso.
"No." Steve took a step forward "You've got a dressing. That wasn't there when you left the hospital and I didn't leave you 'til late yesterday. What happened?" A slight deer in the headlights look flashed through Danny's eyes but it was quickly covered.
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Maybe I should check it, just to make sure it won't get infected?"
"Steven, leave it. I am fine..." Steve was faintly aware that Danny was still talking but he wasn't listening because the dressing itself had been put on badly and it was wonky enough that Steve could see just the tiniest bit of ink peaking out the side. Danny 'I don't even go into the doctor's office with Grace when she gets her jabs because I really hate needles' Williams had got a tattoo. Steve swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his cargo pants felt a little tight and it was suddenly very warm in the tiny, shitty apartment. Looked like he had a new mission. He was going to find out what it was if it killed him.
"So, what happened?"
"Uh..." Danny panicked briefly "Just scraped it."
"Huh! On what?"
"I don't know! I was drunk! What's with the 3rd degree?"
"Nothing." Danny eyed him suspiciously for a minute.
"I'm on to you McGarrett. I don't know what 'what do you mean grenades are dangerous?' scheme you are up to but I am on to you."
"Good to know Danno, tell me how that works out, now we do have the small matter of work to be getting on with."
"Fine, fine." Danny wandered over to his drawer and pulled out his clothes for the day. He was about to take off his boxers when he remembered he wasn't alone. He turned to see Steve-the bastard-had sprawled back on the bed and was watching him with a, creepy, if not a lot hot, smile on his face.
"Please, don't stop on my account."
"Asshole!" Danny threw a pillow hitting him square in the face "Out, now! Shoo!" Steve put his hands up in surrender, walking to the bedroom door.
"Alright, I'm going." He laughed. He slumped onto the old, lumpy armchair in the next room, turning on the TV and flicking channels. When he realised nothing was on he stood and wandered into the kitchen getting a glass of water before a picture caught his eye. It was stuck to the fridge with a magnet which, surprise, surprise, had a picture of New Jersey on it.
"Gracie drew that last time she was here." Steve jumped before turning to see Danny grinning like a fool.
"Jesus Danny, don't sneak up on a guy like that."
"What? Your crazy, bat-like, super SEAL hearing didn't pick up the dull thud of my footfalls on the floor?"
"Haha Danny. My sides are aching... oh no, wait that's you."
"Good one. Make fun of the injured guy."
"That's what I'm here for. So, why is my name on it?" Steve said pointing to the picture which looked like a large yellow and brown rectangle.
"That my friend, that is SteveBob Cargopants."
"You did this." Steve pointed an accusing finger in Danny's face.
"All Gracie, besides. Tell me you wouldn't just love to live in a pineapple under the sea?"
Steve nodded as if to say 'fair enough' and grinned. That grin that seems to make women's clothes practically melt off. Danny, even if pushed into a shark cage, would maintain that he did not almost jump Steve right there in his kitchen.
"So..." Danny spoke first, feeling the need to fill the silence, which, with the absence of the car radio, would quickly become awkward. "Should we?" he gestured at the door.
"We should Steve agreed plucking the keys to the Camaro out of Danny's hand and walking to the door, allowing Danny's following rant to wash over him.
TBC
Thanks so much for reading! Let me know if you think I should continue...
