A/N: The goal in this story (because I always have something I'm working on) was to have a more complicated plot and see if I could actually keep track of everything. Not sure I did a great job, but it was a fun and entertaining exercise.

"Steve?" Danny rapped on his partner's office window as he pushed the door open. "You're almost done fixing the coffee pot," he observed, noting the now-bulkier contraption on his partner's desk. "You know, those things don't cost much- we could just get another one."

Steve grunted and continued to carefully dab the epoxide paste on with a toothpick.

"Well, how long will it be in surgery? Perhaps we should send flowers?"

"You in a rush, Danny?"

"A bit, yeah. We have a case."

In that second, Steve's entire demeanor changed. He straightened, capping the dual epoxide tubes at once, and eyed Danny with a bright attentiveness that Danny hadn't seen in weeks. "A case? When? Where?" Then he stopped and a frown creased his forehead. "Why didn't they call me? Why did they call you?"

"Are you jealous?" Danny deflected, but stepped back as Steve reached automatically for the car keys. "Hey! Where do you think you're going? You don't even know where it is yet."

"You can tell me on the way there."

"You don't know what it is yet. Don't you need to know what you're getting into? Maybe you'll need special equipment."

"Doubtful," Steve said, although he did pause thoughtfully for a moment. "Most of the gear I could ever need is in your trunk."

Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Steve. Surely you debriefed before missions with your SEAL team, right? You didn't just run out into the desert willy-nilly?"

"Fine." Steve stopped halfway out the door, exasperation evident in his voice. "What's the case?"

"A unicorn."

…

How Danny kept a straight face, he reflected later, he wasn't sure, but it was the transformation of his partner's face that nearly broke him. As Steve's intense, man-on-a-mission expression slowly crumbled into confusion, Danny was forced to bite back a grin.

"Come again?" Steve said slowly.

"U-ni-corn. You know, those things in fantasy movies? Looks like a horse, but with a long horn in the middle of its head?" Danny mimed a horn sprouting from his forehead and masked his amusement with a stern, academic seriousness. "Usually white with lots of rainbows floating around it…"

Steve stared at him as though he wasn't quite sure what to believe.

"Flowing white mane and tail. Sparkling eyes…"

"I know what a unicorn is, Danny. But…" he paused and folded his arms menacingly, "a unicorn, Danny? Are you serious? Because if this is some prank that you and Kono plotted…"

Steve's confusion was replaced by a look of abject horror as Danny shook his head. "Real call; not a prank." Seeing Steve's glare, Danny began to wonder if taking this case from Duke was, in fact, a mistake.

"A unicorn… And you said yes?" Steve said slowly, his voice inching lower. "Isn't that a job for animal control officers? Or some of Jerry's video game friends? Not really Five-0 jurisdiction?"

"Yes, I took it. It's a case." Danny paused, trying to assess how dangerous his partner's temperament was at the moment. Though still frowning and obviously displeased for being left out of the case selection, Steve didn't appear to be immediately threatening. In fact, Danny thought he was being remarkably calm. Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to have some fun and poke the beast. "It's an imaginary animal, Steve. I thought it would be right up your alley."

"Right up my… That was a jackalope, Danny, and I was six!" Steve growled.

"Whatever. It's a case. You coming or not?"

Steve hesitated.

"Unless you'd rather I drive," Danny added, reaching for the car keys.

"No, no, I can drive." Steve quickly pocketed the keys as he evaded Danny's grasp moved out the door.

"Somehow I knew you'd say that," Danny muttered as he followed after him.

…

"So, uh… this unicorn…" Steve turned left out of the parking lot and headed into traffic. "Something doesn't add up here: how'd we get a case about a loose unicorn? We get cases about terrorists, bomb threats, kidnappings, shootings… not doped-up motorists who think they've seen an imaginary animal."

"Maybe Duke thought it was important," Danny offered.

"A unicorn is not important."

"Tell that to my daughter," Danny scoffed.

Then Steve realized the implication of what Danny had said. "Wait a minute- Duke gave us this case? Duke knows better!" Steve sped up and whipped the car to the right, bringing them onto the H3 ramp.

"Would you slow down? The unicorn is not going to outrun this car!"

"There is no unicorn, Danny. Probably just some motorist high on pakalolo. And I think better when I'm driving this way."

"Ah. Well, I think better when my life is not in imminent danger," Danny griped, gripping the handle in the door tightly.

"You're not in danger. The 'unicorn' isn't going to start shoot at you."

"With my luck it might," Danny grumbled.

"And you still haven't answered my question: why would Duke send us a case like this?"

"Uh…" Danny had nothing to say as Steve suddenly took his foot off the gas and their pace slackened to a grandmotherly crawl. He looked over to find his partner glaring at him. "Why are you going slow?"

"Is this a real case?"

"What? Yes, it's a real case!"

"Then how did we wind up with a case about a unicorn? Or is this revenge for that incident in the parking lot?" Steve pulled to the side of the highway. Stopping on the shoulder, he threw the car into park and gave his partner a hard stare. "Admit it: you had something to do with this."

Danny waged a silent battle of wills for a few seconds before he saw Steve's fingers start to twitch. Deciding against upsetting the ex-SEAL further, he sighed. "Okay. Fine, yes, I called Duke and asked for the next call that came in. And before you ask, no, it's not a prank from your friends at HPD."

"Why?"

"Why? Why? Because you, my friend, have been driving everyone crazy for days, that's why! You chased down a 12-year-old on a bicycle on Wednesday for rolling through a stop sign- chased him on foot, I should add- you tried to arrest some guy for accidentally shortchanging Kamekona $3 on Thursday, you tackled a guy on the beach who you thought was suspicious on Friday- and he was innocent, mind you! I don't even want to talk about what you did this weekend. And today! Today you nearly shot me in the parking lot!" Danny threw up his hands. "I can't take it anymore!"

"I'm sorry about the parking lot, D," Steve said sincerely.

Danny sighed. "I'm sure you are, but that doesn't change the fact that you are currently a menace to society. Honolulu has enough problems without you rampaging through the streets like Hulk."

"Are you saying I'm green and dangerous?"

"I'm saying that peace and quiet are good things, Steven. Do you know why they're good?"

"No, but you're going to tell me," Steve muttered darkly.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Most people enjoy peace and quiet. It's good for tourism, it's good for the economy, and most people generally approve of a little R&R. They also have normal hobbies like golf or shopping or windsurfing. You, my friend, are not like normal people, and I get that, I really do, but can you please, please just relax and enjoy the fact that no terrorists have tried to blow up the island for the past month? Sleep in a little... Read a book…"

Steve's mouth twitched unpleasantly.

"What?"

"Are you done? Because we have a horse to catch." Caught between a unicorn and a classic Danny rant, the imaginary animal began to seem like the lesser of the evils.

"Unicorn," Danny corrected.

"Unicorns don't exist," Steve said as he started the car and pulled back into traffic. "I'm thinking the guy who called it in was high on drugs, saw some horse alongside the interstate, and imagined he was seeing a unicorn."

"Okay, let's say I buy that theory," Danny said agreeably. "But a horse? In downtown Honolulu?"

Steve shrugged.

"Well, until proven otherwise, we still have an open case about a unicorn to catch. The caller said it was near exit 26a, so why don't we drive over there, see if there's a unicorn-"

"-or something-"

"-or something- horse, sheep, lion, elephant, maybe some tracks, scat, or fur, and then we can swing by Kamekona's for dinner on the way back."

"Fine," Steve huffed. "But if you tell Chin or Kono about this…" he warned in a low voice.

Danny raised his hands. "Don't worry about me. I, for one, have no desire to tell our friends that we spent the day chasing imaginary animals around the streets of Honolulu while they were away. As long as this case wraps up before they get back, my lips are sealed."

"Yeah? Good." Steve's rigid posture relaxed slightly and he slowed as they approached the designated stretch of interstate.

…

For a while it was quiet in the car. Steve drove slowly in the far right lane while Danny scanned out the window for any signs of the wayward animal. In the bright afternoon sun, every glint and flash of light seemed initially promising.

"Wait, I think… no, never mind… Hang on that looks like… oh, nope." After several more false sightings, Danny sighed and thumped his forehead against the window. "You were right- this is stupid."

Steve smirked and Danny didn't need to look to know that his partner was wearing his I told you so face. "Get your forehead off the window, Danny. You'll get the glass greasy."

"Excuse me?" Danny straightened. "This is my car. I can get the glass as greasy as I want."

Steve shrugged and flicked his blinker for the exit. "Fine by me."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm pulling off, D. Want to check for hoof prints and talk to the neighbors. A unicorn can't just walk through this neighborhood and no one sees anything."

Danny sighed again but made no protest, knowing his partner's logic was sound. They exited into a dry, dusty residential area near Diamond Head and left the car at the side of the road before hiking back up to the interstate to search for hoof prints.

Some time later, under mounting frustration, Danny threw up his hands. "Nothing. I got nothing." He straightened slowly from his crouch beside the noise roadway and felt his back pop in several places under his sweat-drenched shirt.

"What did you expect to find?" Steve asked from his section of highway.

"Hoofprints. A horseshoe. Hair from the mane."

Steve smirked.

"Fine, Mr. Indian Scout," Danny rolled his eyes, "what did you expect to find? I don't see you making any great discoveries over there."

"I've got a rock."

"Oooh," Danny mocked, "a rock! Wow, Steve, that's so rare."

"It was turned over recently." Steve crouched on the ground, studying the dark gravel scattered across the ground beside the concrete barrier. "See the dark marks here? Something could have been here. If it's a hoof print, then I would expect to see another mark…" Steve stood and walked forward a few feet, "here. See!"

Danny frowned. Steve was taking this case way too seriously. Granted, he should be pleased that his trigger-happy partner was safely occupied at the moment, and he should be amused or at least humored that Steve was taking an interest in solving the case, but this was too much. Danny was hot. His shirt was soaked in sweat. He stank. The dust from the highway caked his throat. It was time to end this and call it a day.

"Steve, it's probably just a stray dog."

"No, the stride length is all wrong."

"Okay, a chicken, then. Or hitchhikers. Or neighborhood kids. Trash from one of these cars." Danny was too hot and too weary to think of a longer rant. All he wanted was shade, air conditioning, and a cold bottle of beer. "There are lots of options here. Do you have a clear print? Fresh unicorn tracks?"

"No."

"Okay, I'm calling it. Let's go."

Steve frowned as he, too, straightened up. "So soon? We just got here," he said, oblivious to the time that had passed.

Danny rolled his eyes again. The slight pout that crossed his partner's features did nothing to ease his irritability. "It's hot, it's humid, and tracking imaginary creatures with you is not nearly as entertaining as I hoped it would be."

"You know, you're the one who suggested this in the first place."

"And now I'm un-suggesting it. Are you happy? I need fluids and a shower- all this sunshine and humidity is going to give me a heat stroke." Danny headed for the Camaro without waiting to see if Steve was coming.

"You can't get heat stroke yet," Steve's voice followed him. "You're not exhibiting any of the symptoms!"

"Bite me, Steven!" Danny yelled back.

30 Minutes Later:

Danny heaved a sigh of relief as he pulled his chair in front of the AC vent in the wall of the Five-0 office and settled down with take-out container of Kamekona's best shrimp scampi.

Smirking, Steve settled in comfortably on the leather armchair nearby. "Better?"

"Are you mocking my suffering? Think it's funny I almost passed out from the heat?"

"I'm not laughing."

Danny rolled his eyes. "One day, you'll be thankful for my Jersey-toughened exterior. Mark my words, Steven: one day we'll be somewhere cold and you'll wish you had my thick Jersey skin," Danny prophesied around a mouthful of noodles.

"Danny, I'm not judging," Steve protested. "You like to think you're being insulted all the time, but the truth is, I'm just eating fried shrimp and enjoying it. Quit thinking the world is out to get you, accept your flaws, and move on with life."

"Flaws? Flaws?! I'll have you know that-" but whatever argument Danny was trying to make was lost as he suddenly found himself choking on an unpeeled shrimp tail. Several firm whacks on the back and a long gulp of water later, Danny was finally able to wipe his watering eyes and found Steve's concerned eyes hovering a few inches from his own.

"Better?"

"Loads," but the sarcasm was lost in another bout of hoarse coughing. "See, Steven?" Danny wheezed. "The world is out to get me."

"The shrimp are, maybe," Steve admitted, "but at least give me the benefit of the doubt."

Danny eyed him suspiciously, but nothing more was said until Steve suddenly set the take-out container aside and moved to the main computer.

"You know, Danny, what if the driver who called it in was on drugs? He gets high, thinks he's seeing a unicorn and who knows what else… If he was seeing things, he could be a hazard to other drivers around him. We should get a trace on his phone and track him down."

"OR we should finish eating our shrimp and sit inside in the air conditioning."

"I'm serious. We need to track this guy down before he hurts someone. If he's seeing things, he doesn't need to be driving."

"How do you know he's seeing things?" Danny returned and gave his partner a sidelong glance. "You really just want to tackle someone, don't you?"

Steve couldn't help the hopeful grin that crossed his features.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Let's assume the driver wasn't seeing things. A better question would be, what is a unicorn doing on Oahu? I have an idea, but let's hear what you think first."

Steve was at a loss. "Fantasy movie filming?" he finally offered.

"No, I'm thinking something with a lower budget and more pink and sparkles."

Steve frowned.

"And little girls?" Danny suggested helpfully.

Steve gave a small shake of his head.

Danny laughed. "A birthday party, Steven. I think it's probably some poor, dressed-up horse that escaped from a little girl's birthday party."

"Who has a unicorn at a birthday party?"

"What, Mary never went through the unicorn phase?" Danny couldn't resist teasing the already uncomfortable ex-SEAL. "Clearly you haven't had much experience with 8-year-old girls. Grace outgrew her unicorn phase years ago, thank goodness." Gently pushing his partner out of the way, Danny entered a few keywords into the computer. Pulling up a list of search results, he clicked on the first one. "What do you think, babe?"

"Uh…" Steve gulped. "That's a lot of pink."

Danny grinned as the bright flashing colors from Princess Party dot com filled the room. "The perfect, one-stop shop for your own perfect little princess and all her pink princess party needs," he read from the blinking banner at the top of the page.

"How does this involve unicorns?"

Danny tried not to laugh at his partner's face. The SEAL wore an expression somewhere between horror and hopeless confusion. "Princesses ride unicorns. Every dad knows that."

"Right," the ex-SEAL finally managed to mumble.

Danny scrolled to the bottom and found a phone number for the company. "One of us should call and see if they've lost a unicorn in the past twenty-four hours."

"They would have reported a missing animal, though," Steve pointed out.

"But HPD may not have connected the two reports," Danny countered. Pulling out his phone, he thumbed in the number and offered the device to Steve. "Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?"

Steve waved the phone away. "All yours, buddy." If the conversation devolved into anything involving little girl's birthday parties or ponies, he would be clueless what to say.

…

The call itself took less than two minutes. A few seconds in, Danny gestured to Steve for a notepad and began to scribble in his wretched New-Jerseyan jibberish across the page. Then he thanked the person on the other end and hung up.

"Well?" Steve asked impatiently. It was obvious from the frantically-scrawled notes that Danny had learned something of interest, but the detective was frowning at his phone and a grimace pulled at the edges of his mouth. "Did they lose a unicorn or not?"

"Yes, but that's not the interesting part." Glancing over his notes, Danny quickly translated for his partner: "The missing unicorn is a light grey, almost white, Quarter horse by the name of 'Lilith' that was rented out for the birthday party of 8-year-old Mai Ma. Nothing unusual there. But get this," he sat up a little straighter as he read the next item in his notes, "according to the horse's handler, in the middle of the party there was an FBI raid, the father, Mr. Daniel Ma, was arrested, and in the chaos, the horse spooked and ran."

Now Steve frowned, too. "An FBI raid? At a princess birthday party?" Those didn't sound like FBI tactics. "What else?"

"That was all he could tell me. He said he had to get set up for another birthday party, but he would be happy to talk to us later. He also gave me the phone number and address for Mr. Ma when he paid the deposit for the party, along with the address for the party's location. And one of us should probably contact the FBI office and try to figure out what happened with the raid."

"Where was the party?" Steve asked, pulling up a map of Oahu on the screen. "That might help us narrow down the horse's location."

"Manoa Valley, but let me do that while you call the FBI," Danny offered. "You have more weight to throw around with the feds than a lowly Jersey cop."

Steve acquiesced with a shrug, figuring he'd gotten the easier assignment.

A/N: I made up the website, so if it already exists, sorry. Also, don't let the unicorn fool you- there will be whump for both boys in this story. I realize it's a bit odd, but stick around and I think you'll enjoy it.