Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

···················

"Want some?" Danny asks, holding out the obnoxiously pink box of malasadas to Steve.

"No thanks." Steve answers drily, eyes on the road.

"Is that condescension I detect in your tone, Steven? I thought you'd be happy I have found something on this pineapple infested, no tie wearing island that can put me in a better mood. I mean, no ties, Steven. They don't even sell ties here, I checked. It's like an infinite loop of casual Fridays." Danny exclaims in dismay. "I hate casual Fridays."

"That figures." Steve nods gravely.

"No, look at this." Danny says, waving the open box around, as if to make absolutely certain the crumbs get equally distributed all over the car. "How can you stand there, indifferent in the face of perfection? Look at this, there's sugar, and other things, but mostly sugar, and you know what they should call this?"

"Diabetes?" Steve ventures. Just a wild guess here.

"Euphoria." Danny continues, disregarding the interruption. "This, right in this box, is the food of happy people. This is the food of people who have never been shot, never been divorced, never had you as a partner. So please. Let me enjoy this without a lecture about my eating habits. Just this once."

"I don't know that I can do that." Steve admits sadly. Danny turns to gape at him in indignation.

"Wha—Why? Why can't you do that? Why, Steve, why?"

Steve shrugs. "I'm just looking out for you, Danno." He explains reasonably. "You're thirty four years old. You can't keep eating like a teenager, I'm just saying."

"Oh ho, nice. Bringing my age into this. Nice touch." Danny scoffs, closing the bright pink box carefully and turning to glare out the window crossly. This basically means he doesn't have a comeback, so Steve takes a minute to revel in his victory.

"You give your girlfriend the same speech on her sugar consumption?" Danny says after a minute or so, because he's a sore loser and doesn't know when to give up.

"My girlfriend?" Steve repeats incomprehensibly, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, you know. Kono. Did she get the same lecture?"

Steve glances at Danny uncertainly. "You realize Kono is not my girlfriend, right?"

"Because let me tell you, you want to talk about unhealthy eating habits? The girl practically lives on ice cream." Danny says in a disapproving tone, and when Steve looks over again, Danny is staring at him expectantly.

"Okay fine." Steve admits, caving. "She did get the same speech. She gets the same speech every time we're in a diner and she orders the entire dessert menu. She gets the same speech so often she has memorized it and quotes it back at me."

"Well, newsflash, Steven. The speech is not working. You need a new speech; in fact, you need to quit with the speech making entirely. Let people eat what they may, terrifying though the thought must seem to you."

Steve shrugs, tilts his head as if considering something.

"What?" His partner snaps impatiently.

"Well, I don't know. The speech can't be that bad." Steve points out evenly. "I mean, you're not eating anymore, right?"

"I can't eat when I'm upset." Danny grumbles, sounding frustrated. There's a pause during which Steve contemplates not gloating but you know, what would be the fun in that?

"So the speech does work."

Danny just scowls, hugging the box of malasadas to his chest tightly and gives Steve the silent treatment all the way back to the office. Which, all in all, is not as awful a punishment as Danny seems to think it is.

···················

Kono's stretched out on the lounge chair, one hand hanging loosely by her side, fingers almost brushing against the sand, the other pressing the chilled bottle of beer to the side of her neck in a vain effort to cool down. She really should just go for a quick swim, if she can ever work up the will to move.

They're hanging out at Steve's place, on the lanai, trying to enjoy a rare day off in spite of the heat wave, even though Kono is not convinced it's working so far. She glances to her left, where Steve is collapsed on an identical lounge chair, not even bothering with his beer. He looks like he's asleep, maybe in a coma. He's only wearing a pair of swim trunks so she still takes a minute to appreciate the view before she sighs, downs the rest of her beer, nudges Steve's chair with her foot.

"You still alive there, boss?"

Steve just grunts in response.

"At least put on some sunscreen or you'll burn." She cautions. "Although it might be too late for your nose. You look like Rudolph the reindeer."

He opens an eye at this, looking less than impressed with her humor, then sighs, bringing a hand to rub his nose. "You do it. I can't move."

"Do what?"

Steve waves a hand in the approximate direction of the sunscreen, eyes closed again.

"You need help putting on sunscreen?" She asks incredulously. "What are you, five?"

Steve doesn't respond to this, appearing to have fallen back into that half asleep daze the heat can bring on. Unless it's sunstroke. That is also a possibility they shouldn't rush to dismiss. Kono stares at his chest for a beat, like she's in a trance, and this heat is not helping with anything because before she knows it she's picking up the bottle of sunscreen and straddling his lap.

Steve opens his eyes to look at her, startled, hands automatically going to her hips.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice tense. Kono doesn't reply, just uncaps the bottle and starts applying sunscreen to his shoulders and chest, then lower, down his abs, until Steve's fingers are digging into her skin, like he's trying very hard to stay still. She's pretty sure he's stopped breathing, actually.

She smirks at him, raises an eyebrow, trailing her fingers up his chest slowly. "There. All done." She tosses the bottle aside, tries to get up, but Steve doesn't let go of his grip on her waist, keeping her there. He's looking at her, careful to maintain eye contact as he tugs on her wrist until she leans forward, arms going around his neck so she's pressed against him, and this feels more comfortable than it probably should.

"You're kind of a tease, you know that?" Steve says gruffly, not sounding like he minds that much.

"It was your idea." She points out, because she's five apparently, and whatever. His hand climbs up her back, playing with the knot of her bikini top, and she exhales shakily, because oh my god this is actually happening. She's staring at his mouth, inches from her and why is he not kissing her yet?

"What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?" She asks, going for sarcastic but only managing to sound breathless. Steve is studying her face closely, as if waiting for her to freak out or stop him or something.

"I didn't want to do anything you're not comfortable with." He says hesitantly.

"Oh, for fuck's sake—" Kono rolls her eyes at his general cluelessness, leans in to kiss him, and that's all the encouragement he needs because he kisses her back heatedly, hands tangling in her hair, and they're half naked already so it looks like this will finally happen and Kono wants to thank every deity that's listening because yes, yes, yes. He bucks his hips, grinding her against him, and she moans in his mouth, and they're just getting to second base when Kono hears the sound of the front door closing.

"Steve?" Danny calls from somewhere inside.

They freeze, stare at each other with comically horrified expressions and then Kono's tying her bikini top and trying to untangle her hair, while Steve just falls back on the chair, exhaling in frustration and looking like he wants to punch something.

"Steven?" Danny calls again, and Steve flexes his jaw, closing his eyes and—is he counting backwards from ten? That's kind of hilarious, in an I-wish-this-was-happening-to-someone-else-so-I-could-sit-back-and-laugh-at-them kind of way.

Kono goes to get up, get back in her seat, but Steve grabs her waist again. "Oh no." He says tersely. "You're not moving right now." He announces, sounding final. And okay, it occurs to her how this situation is exponentially harder for him, and yes, that's right—Kono is at that point where she has to make sucky puns to find the humor in this situation.

"Well don't you two look cozy." Danny says drily, having finally located them. Kono is leaning back against Steve's chest, pretending to sip at his beer, which is now lukewarm at best. Steve must look displeased, because Danny raises an eyebrow, hands on his waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?" He asks in fake concern, walking over to the lounge chair Kono was sitting in before and making himself comfortable. "I would have knocked, you know, but you probably wouldn't have heard it over the whole wave-crashing thing. See how that can get annoying?"

Kono just rolls her eyes and concentrates on trying not to throw the beer bottle at him.

···················

Steve is getting in his car, ready to drive away from the crime scene, away from the bodies of two dead cops and the witness who was basically their only case against Wo Fat, ready to drive to the governor's and do the exact opposite of what he just seconds ago promised Danny he'd do, which was sit around and wait, giving everyone plenty of time to get rid of any incriminating evidence like, oh I don't know, the contents to his dad's toolbox. Then suddenly the passenger side door opens, Kono getting in and shutting the door behind her.

Steve turns to look at her questioningly, because he's pretty sure she was Chin's ride here and what? Is she going to leave him here? Her favorite cousin stranded at a crime scene, having to ask some random HPD cop for a ride back to HQ? That doesn't seem likely. She's worrying her bottom lip nervously, looking like she's working up the courage to say something and Steve realizes with a start that she knows, of course she knows where he's planning to go, like Danny would have known if he hadn't been so distracted after getting that call from Rachel. Kono knows him too well, and she can tell when he's about to be stupid.

His throat gets tight with some emotion he can't identify, because he might make jokes about this being a dictatorship but if Kono actually asks him not to go? He doesn't know if he can look at her and deny her anything.

This is so not the time to be having an epiphany about his feelings for Kono, of all things.

He decides to stop her before she has the time to say anything, because this is something he needs to do, regardless of how reckless it seems, and he needs her to understand that—but then she sighs loudly and turns her face away, looking tired and frustrated.

"You can relax boss, I'm not here to stop you." She says in a flat voice, still staring out the window, as if she doesn't want to look at him. "I know you think you need to do this."

He waits, but she doesn't say anything more. He looks at her hands, fingers clenched in tight fists at her side, and it occurs to him she—she knows she could stop him, probably. She could tell Danny, or Chin, she could steal his car keys or handcuff him to her side, or even just look at him, wide eyed and earnest and serious and say please, and he'd have no choice in the matter, but she won't. Not because she agrees with him, but because she trusts him.

He reaches over, placing a hand over hers to still her trembling fingers, and she finally turns to look at him again. "Hey. I'll be careful, okay? No need to worry."

She snorts in disbelief, as if that's completely preposterous, and he doesn't know if she doubts his promise to be careful or her own ability to stop worrying. She looks down at their hands, looking young and vulnerable and why is he getting so ridiculously sentimental right now he has no idea.

She withdraws her hand slowly, reaches for the handle. "Just—try not to get caught, alright?" She says finally, opening the door and getting out. "And call me when you're done, for fuck's sake." She adds in a tight voice then slams the door loudly behind her, not waiting for an answer, and Steve stares after her for a moment before starting the car and driving off.

···················