AN: Thank you for the reviews! Yes I love Hawaii Five-0 perhaps more than I should. This one is from Danny's POV. Enjoy my friends.

Warnings: Um none?

Disclaimer: Yes this awesome show is mine! –wakes up with drool on her pillow—never mind. Not mine.

Should've Seen it Coming

Max lay curled beneath the covers, sleeping peacefully. He frowned when an AC/DC song flooded his senses interrupting his slumber. "Steve the phone," he whined.

The phone continued to ring, nagging him.

He opened an eye, noticing he was alone. Grumbling grouchily, he picked up the phone. "Bergman," he answered mind still clouded with sleep.

"Max?"

His eyes expanded so that it looked like they might fall right out of their sockets when he heard the familiar voice. He drew the phone away to look at it. Crap this was Steve's phone. He was talking to Danny on Steve's phone at; he glanced to the clock struggling to make out the fuzzy digits, 8:30 in the morning. Where was The Force when he needed it? "Uh…" He hanged the phone up, looking at it as if it were a venomous snake.

Steve opened the bathroom door, in nothing but a towel, toothbrush hanging from his perfect mouth. "Who was that?"

Hungry coffee eyes followed the stray rivulets of water dribbling down the brunet's chiseled belly disappearing behind the towel.

"Max." He called.

Max blinked up at him. "Oh. It was Detective Williams."

"And you answered?"

Max nodded. This was not good.

The phone rang.

Steve crossed the room and picked it up, giving the nervous Max a gentle pat. "McGarrett."

Danny looked at the phone. What the hell? "Did Max just answer your phone?"

"Why would Max answer my phone?" He slapped Max's ass as the doctor strode past, finding the blush that stained his cheeks hot. The resultant pink tongue that peeked from the doctor's mouth sent heat through his body.

"I don't know but he did." Danny braked at a light. Why would Max be at Steve's this time of morning? For sex. He shook his head. There was no way in hell that was the reason. I mean he knew that the commander was bisexual and all, but Max was definitely not his type. Was he?

"You probably thought you dialed my number and dialed Max's instead."

He pulled over at a quick-stop. "Oh come on that's bullshit and you know it." He heard Steve sigh, and then waited for the answer. The reply he received was highly unexpected.

"We were playing World of Warcraft."

Danny stopped a beat before entering the store. "Liar."

"Look Max is a level 85 warlock or something and he was just helping me slay Nazan so I could get his head and take it with Gargolmar's hand to Stok'ton so my Night Elf Khale Cloudburst can get his rewards."

Danny felt his brain space out at the unfamiliar terms. "Whoa, geez, what?" He stuffed a malasada into his mouth, sighing in bliss.

"We lost track of time and he slept over."

Danny cranked his car. "Okay whatever just…I just called to see if we were still on for tonight."

"Sure. Chin coming?"

"Nah, he's got something with Malia."

"See you at HQ."

"Yeah, bye."

"Bye."

Danny sat in his office, thinking about his phone conversation with Steve. Something did not feel right. Why didn't Max just explain it to him? The guy hung up on him! And besides, didn't Steve always keep his phone on his nightstand next to the bed?

He was no fool. He had felt the change in the team the day it happened. He'd woken up, came into work and boom a new dynamic. Something had shifted and it focused between Steve and Max. At first he assumed it was because Max had tended Steve's wound after his escape which bolstered their bond. But now he was starting to think something different.

Ocean blue eyes watched the two when said duo entered the main room. Max followed Steve into his office. Strange. He observed as they conversed, Max making a weird gesture which caused Steve to positively beam at the shorter man. Whoa. Was that—was that a full-watt smile? Danny grinned to himself, wondering if Steve had cracked his jaw. He rose from his chair and crossed the main room to his partner's office upon Max's leave. "Wow, does your face hurt?"

Steve took the comment in stride, taking a brief moment to look over his medals. "Morning Danny."

Danny folded his arms, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Haven't seen anyone make you smile like that. Ev-er." He caught the subtle change in Steve's stance. Now, the commander was on guard.

Steve gave a noncommittal shrug. "So? He can be funny." He half-sat half-leaned on his desk, arms folded eyes searching.

"Okay. I'll give you that but you two have gotten pretty chummy lately. Want to explain that Khale Cloudburst?" He couldn't help the interrogative undertone lacing his voice.

"What is this?" Steve gestured between them.

"What's what?"

"You're interrogating me."

Danny shook his head, doing his best to look innocent. "What? I'm not interrogating you."

Steve arched his eyebrows. "Oh you're not? So it just sounds like it."

Danny tried a different tactic. He would get answers. "So, why have you two have gotten so close? You know you can tell me anything." He rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, seeing the conflict in his eyes.

Steve dropped his head, frustrated. "Look." He sat in his chair. "The guy sewed me up in his bathroom while I was being hunted by HPD. I broke out his window, broke three lamps, and leaked blood on his floor. And he took it in stride. And he lost both his parents too."

Danny saw the difficulty Steve had while replying. "Alright. You identify with him. I get it. You wanna go jump in that shark tank now?" It was common knowledge to everyone that Steve would rather endure peril than talk about emotions.

"I feel like it." He jibed.

He studied his partner. "Alright." He conceded for the moment, after all he was still highly suspicious.

Danny stood outside of Steve's door a six-pack of beer in one hand. He pressed the doorbell, hearing it resonate through the home. He waited, ringing it twice more when no one answered. He had just bent to pick up the spare key in the potted plant when the door was pulled open. Standing in the doorway squinting, shirtless, and disheveled was Steve.

"Danny? You're early."

Danny tilted his head catching a familiar scent. Sex. "Did you just get laid?" The resultant deadpan stare his partner bestowed upon him before striding away from the open door confused him. Did Steve just get laid?

"Nah, I was sleeping brah," he answered with a bite of sarcasm.

"I thought people were supposed to be happy after getting laid. So who is she?" He followed Steve into the kitchen.

Steve shamelessly avoided answering the question, bending down in the refrigerator to check its contents. "Grilled wings?"

"Sure."

Sometime later, Danny sat on the couch watching the pre-game show when he got the surprise of his life. Max descended the stairs, hair sticking up in odd directions. His only clothing was an over-sized Rolling Stones shirt that hung off a shoulder. Wasn't that Steve's shirt he wore on jogs? Hold on. Steve had just gotten laid. Now Max had just come from upstairs wearing one of Steve's shirts.

Danny's eyebrows rose so high they could have receded into his hairline. Steve…and Max. Together? It was nearly unthinkable, but the evidence was in front of his eyes. Well, it had been. He stood and hurried to the kitchen.

The scene was touching. Max stood behind the brunet, face resting against his mid-back appearing to be asleep. Screw touching, he wanted some damn answers. "What, the fuck?" He exclaimed.

Max jerked his head snapping around in Danny's direction. "Is that Detective Williams?"

Danny inwardly sighed. One day he was going to get Max to call him by his first name if it killed him. "Yes. Are you two fucking each other?"

Max blinked, squinting at the blond with indignation. "Fucking would be an incorrect term. It refers to a casual sexual encounter or relationship. Since we have been in a romantic relationship for months now, I believe other terms with accurate connotations would more aptly apply."

Danny did not miss the cutting edge in Max's voice. Okay he had stepped on a nerve. "Chill Max, I got it."

Steve turned from his vigil over the chicken wings cooking on the grill built into the stove and reached out. He drew Max to his side. "Relax ainie. Now go upstairs and put on your glasses before you trip over the coffee table. Again."

Max who seemed deflated after his tirade departed the room.

After he disappeared Steve explained that Max had a special dislike for the word fuck especially in regard to copulation. Apparently he had endured some really bad past relationships where he had been used as fuck toy. Danny pondered if Max knew the social security numbers and names of those little shits.

"You cool with this?"

Danny shrugged. "Sure. It's going to take a little while to get used to it, but yeah. If being with Max keeps you from making aneurysm face so much then he's good for you. Just don't screw it up."

Steve gave a small smirk. "Flying by the seat of my pants every day."

"So, a question." He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the counter.

"Hm?"

"Why the hell was I not informed? I thought we were best friends."

Steve returned his attention to the chicken. "We are Danno. Max and I just decided to keep it secret just in case it hampered the team's performance and because the governor doesn't condone fraternization on the team and might send one of us away if he finds."

"Ah." He stuck a finger in the warming barbecue sauce, licking it up.

This began a good-natured spat that ended once the chicken and nachos were done.

Later they sat on the sofa watching the football game. Max of course had his head in a book, but Danny caught the glances he cast the television. He also perceived Steve's hand resting casually on the raven-haired man's bare leg. He smiled to himself when he detected the tender glance they shared.

Yeah, this would take some adjustment, but Max was definitely good for Steve.

That's the end of this little ditty. I hope you enjoyed it and if you did press that blue button that says Review on it. This is the next to last chapter in this fic.

Next Chapter: That Time at the Bar