Because You're Always Right (Let's Go Back: Driving Mr. Danno)
Note: This is set back after the first episode, and before most of the crazy shenanigans we've put the boys through. :) So…if you're crazy like us, you may have noticed that in the first episode Danny is driving a silver Mustang. You may have also noticed that we haven't seen said Mustang since. While some have suggested that the cars they drive belong to the department, we have our own working theory. Enjoy!
The office was silent save the rapid fire drumming of Danny's fingers against the top of his desk. His new desk, his new center of focus for cases. He'd never seen anything like the office the governor had constructed for their little task force. It was the best of facilities, had the latest technology, and was a veritable nerve center of intelligence. If he had to be stuck here indefinitely, he couldn't ask for a better place to be. However, it was now a place he was desperate to leave. It was well past working hours. Chin and Kono had offered to take him home, but he refused, knowing the inevitable Hurricane McGarrett would strike port. The man was just lucky it wasn't a night for him to be with Grace. He'd called sometime over lunch, telling Danny not to worry. He'd be five minutes. That had been six hours ago, and still no sign of one Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett, who much to Danny's irritation was not answering his cell phone either.
If Steve had told him before he had taken Danny's keys, the blond would have told him no. Granted, Steve hadn't been able to get a vehicle to the island yet - he had said something about being in the middle of making a deal on a Camaro, but he didn't have anything to show for that yet - but that didn't make the Mustang the car to borrow. It was one of the few things that he'd allowed himself to bring this pineapple infested hell-hole, and he'd be damned if the disaster that was Steve McGarrett did anything to hurt it.
He lifted his fingers, head tilted to the side as he heard a door open and shut. It had to be Steve. It just had to be Steve. Seconds ticked by and his patience was rewarded as the tall, dark-haired man slowly came around the corner into view. For a brief second, Danny wished he just hadn't. Steve had been recovering nicely from his run-in with Hesse on top of the Chinese freighter, but his arm was back in a sling and he looked like he was sporting some new bruises. He was also moving slowly -well, slow was relative when regarding Steve's stride- and God help him he thought Steve looked almost sheepish. Steve pushed open the door to his office and came inside to lean against it as it shut.
"Hey." he offered.
Danny stood, hands on his hips. "Steve. Steve, where is my car?"
"What? You're not even going to ask how I am?" the Commander asked, moving towards a chair and sinking stiffly into it.
"I don't care how you are," Danny growled out. "I want to hear what you did to my Mustang."
Steve grimaced at the shorter man's tone. "Well, I have good news and bad news. Which would you rather first?"
Danny felt all the blood leave his face. He was going to kill him. Kill him and probably go to prison, but he was going to kill him.
"Right. Good news first. Good news, I'm all right."
"What the hell kind of good news is that? Where is my car, Steve?"
Steve frowned, surprised to find himself put off by the fact Danny was showing no concern whatsoever for his well being. "It's good news to me," he pointed out. He watched Danny's face as his expression went from annoyed and irritated to truly fearful and angry.
"You're not putting me on, are you? You've actually gone and done something stupid behind the wheel of my vehicle which you did not even ask if you could drive before you'd already taken it! Do you realize that those are not cheap to fix? That I have to arrange alternate transportation while my car is in the shop? What is it with you taking unnecessary risk with other people and other people's belongings? Do you think before you act? Or...or before you inhale? When you're not too busy being the butterfly creating hurricanes around the other side of the world you are the hurricane, aren't you?"
Steve blinked. "Are you finished?"
"Yes." Danny conceded, taking a deep breath.
"You don't have to worry about paying to have it repaired."
"Because you are rightly going to pay for every last cent?" Danny demanded.
Steve shook his head slowly. "Noo...because there isn't enough left to repair."
Danny sank down to his chair again, mouth hanging open in shock. "You... That's not funny."
"It's not supposed to be," Steve murmured quietly. "If it helps, I am sorry."
"No, no that does not help, Steve. That does not help at all. You see, I use that car. I use it to take Gracie to school. I use it to pick her up some days. I use it so we can go on cases. I use it to get around this hell-hole of an island, and you had to destroy my one get away. The one luxury I let myself bring with me!" He finished in a huff, face flushed and angry.
Steve shifted in his chair uncomfortably and tried to hide the wince caused by every part of his protesting body. He hadn't planned on running into a suspect from an open case, and it wasn't like he'd wanted the man to run or get involved in a high speed chase. He just hadn't been used to driving the Mustang and when it didn't handle that hair-pin turn like he though it would...well...Steve sighed. For the first time in a while, he felt truly remorseful.
"I am really, really sorry, Danno. I'll make sure you get a car to use. You won't have to miss picking up Gracie or anything." he said.
Danny wanted, more than anything, to return with a snarky remark, but something in Steve's honest look and apologetic voice made him stop. He sniffed, frowning. "Yeah, you say that, and you'll end up with that pretty new Camaro you've been talking about," he grumbled with a sigh, only half sounding like he meant it.
Steve grinned, his whole face lighting up. "Cheer up, Danno. You never know what the insurance will give you."
Danny started to agree and then groaned. "You aren't covered to drive my car!" he nearly shouted.
In the weeks that followed, Steve made good on his promise that Danny would always have a way to get to Gracie. Surprisingly, he went out of his way to get the blond to his daughter for whatever time they had together, but his end-all plan for repairing the damage he'd done by utterly destroying Danny's Mustang was put off by case after case coming across their desk. It wasn't until after Kono's private graduation that he was able to put his plans out into the open.
"Hey, Danno?" he called, the blonde walking away from the police station with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
"What?"
"Are you walking?"
"No," Danny answered after a moment, eyes somewhat thoughtful over the day's events and the reoccurring insanity that was Hurricane Steve McGarrett. "Thought I might call a cab. You don't have to tote me around."
"Are you just going home?" Steve asked.
Danny frowned and looked up at him. "Yeah. Why?" he asked suspiciously.
Steve smiled the smile that always told Danny he should be worried about whatever was coming next.
"I want to show you something. I'll buy you dinner." Steve cajoled.
Danny narrowed his eyes. It hadn't taken long for Steve to figure out that he had a weakness for good food (although their opinions of "good" varied considerably) and his Lieutenant Commander used it regularly to talk him into things. Danny was sure he meant to say no, but heard himself say, "Okay."
The day had been long and he really didn't have the energy to argue at that point. Silence filled the Camaro as Steve started the engine.
"You know the only place that's going to be open at this hour is going to be fast food, right?" Danny murmured at last, eyes lazily watching the passing street from the side seat.
"No, there's a little place a couple blocks from my house. It's open until midnight."
Steve pulled up and parked next to a pickup truck.
"Arnold's Deli?" Danny read the name of the place aloud. He turned to look at Steve, blue eyes wide and hopeful. "Shut up. It's an honest to goodness deli."
Steve nodded. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"It has pastrami."
Danny was out of the car faster than if they'd had someone start shooting at them. Steve grinned to himself and followed his partner inside, patting the pocket in his cargo shorts to make sure he still had what he needed.
He had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing at the blond detective. While he was plenty calm to anyone that might have been watching, Steve could see the slight bounce as he walked and the excitement radiating off of him.
"It's a sandwich, Danno," he reminded him.
"Someday, I'm taking you to Jersey. Then I'll introduce you to the best sandwich you've ever had," Danny promised after ordering.
They sat down with their meals, hot sandwiches steaming and Danny looking happier than he'd been in weeks. "I'll have to bring Gracie here." he said. "She'll forget what real food is like."
Steve rolled his eyes, but had to acknowledge it wasn't half bad. "I'm afraid the insurance company won't give an inch about not covering your car since I was driving." Steve said.
Danny's eyes darkened but he shrugged. "I could have told you that. I'll just have to start looking for something quick. Maybe a used Civic or something."
"A Civic would be a good car." Steve agreed.
Danny gave him the evil eye. "Says he who is running around in the brand new Camaro."
Steve chuckled. "You're not looking for another sports car?"
"Not on the salary that I get," Danny answered irritably. "Listen, do we really have to talk about this right now? I've done a damn fine job at not wringing your neck over that and I'd really like to just sit back and enjoy my sandwich. Is that too much to ask?"
"Damn fine job of it, huh?"
"That's what I said."
"If you do say so yourself."
"And I do."
"Do you want to know what I wanted to show you?" Steve asked.
Danny took a deliberate bite out of his sandwich and stared at his partner stonily. Steve took that as a yes and pointed out the window. Reluctantly, Danny turned to look as well.
"Why are you pointing at the Camaro?" he asked around his food.
"I'm not."
"What are you pointing at?"
"The truck."
"Why are you pointing at some person's truck? Don't you think that's rude?"
"It's not just some person's truck. It's my truck."
Danny put his sandwich down and his head swiveled back to look at Steve. "What?"
Steve tapped the table and a set of keys sat between them.
Danny blinked at him, unwilling to assume the meaning of his words.
Steve grinned widely, enjoying his partner's confused silence. "It's not a Mustang, but..."
"You're giving me your Camaro?"
"That's what I'm doing."
"And you bought a truck?"
"I did."
Danny eyed him and Steve could tell that his brain - working sluggishly on the downer that came after the adrenaline rush - was turning on the problem. "You make the same - or about the same - as I do. How the hell do you plan to pull that off?"
Steve shrugged, attempting to hide something behind it. "My dad left me some money."
"And so you're giving me your shiny new Camaro?"
Steve tilted his head. "It's bad enough when you repeat me, but now you're just repeating yourself."
"Steve," Danny said with half a laugh, "I can't accept this. I mean, dinner is one thing but you can't just give me a car."
"Yes I can."
Danny laughed again. "Steve this is not about you being stubborn. This is a huge deal."
"I know. You're my partner, and I didn't respect something of yours and I damaged that. It's only right that I take responsibility." he said evenly.
Danny was stunned. "Steve...I..."
"Besides, I already signed for the truck. No turning back now. Just nod, say 'Thanks, Steve' and finish your sandwich, Danno."
Danny opened and closed his mouth several times, no words ever really leaving it. No matter how irritating, how irrational and sometimes dangerous the man could be, somehow in that moment he seemed awful human. "Thanks, Steve," he said at last, not a hint of sarcasm touching his voice. As Danny finished his sandwich he thought that maybe, just maybe, this partnership wasn't going to be as bad as he originally thought.
