Sorry for the delay! Thanks as always for reading!

Nope, don't own H50. If I did, I'd be in Hawaii right now. Just having some fun.

"My name, Steven. They ordered the box in my fucking name."

"I heard him too Danny. I was standing right there." Steve glanced at his friend. "And repeating it over and over again isn't helping."

Danny could not look at his partner. How Steve could play it off so easily was beyond him. He envied his cool demeanor.

"I'll remember that, my friend, the next time some psycho buys something in your name."

They rolled slowly to a stop as traffic paused for a light. Danny had his hand on the door.

"What are you going to do? Jump out?"

"No, please, just pull over. I just need to get out of here. Before I go insane."

Steve threw his friend what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "We're going back to my place, okay?"

"To do what may I ask? Sit on our thumbs?" Danny waved his wounded hand at his partner, and then winced.

"Who ever this person is – they are messing with you, Danny."

"I think that should be glaringly obvious now, Steven." Danny ran a hand through his hair to cover his anxiety. He'd much rather be angry. "They used my fucking name!"

Steve ignored the repeated complaint. It didn't make anything better. He decided to try steering the conversation to something more positive.

"You said it yourself. Maybe Kono has something. She's been working on this for you." He lowered his voice, hoping to calm his partner. "Maybe something will pop. Prints from the money. Or the note left for the pizza guy. Kono's been talking to Fong today. Two heads are better than one."

"Right now, I do not care about any of those things. What I care about is breathing. And my head exploding. This cannot be what the doctor ordered."

Steve frowned at Danny but then just as quickly erased any trace of emotion from his face. He was too tired to keep up this back and forth with his friend. He knew it was really leading nowhere. Because right then, they didn't have much more than they did that morning. Waiting was their only option because arguing things to death was too stressful.

/././

Standing in the doorway of his bedroom, Steve watched Danny make a half-assed one-handed attempt at making the bed. They were still trying to put the pieces of the case together. The young man at the hospital had lawyered up and was not talking, claiming he knew nothing about colorful stamps and codes on 50 dollar bills or poker games period. Which of course was a flat out lie. Though, cryptically, he kept saying they didn't know who they were up against. And that he didn't care about the Russians.

That part stuck with Danny. The kid was not worried about the Russians. They put him in the hospital – almost killed him - and the little punk wasn't afraid of them.

There was someone else. And Five-0 didn't know who they were up against.

Danny played this thought around and around like some twisted merry-go-round. The players kept spinning through his head. His nephew. Vitor. Jimmy. The dumb kid entrepreneur. The Russian thugs. The poker games. He knew how they all connected. What more could there be? It didn't make any sense.

Unless Vitor had a boss.

But that's not what the intel said. Jersey cops didn't mention a thing about somebody pulling the strings. They didn't even know about Jimmy's backroom games. It was all very much Vitor's show.

"You know, you are the slowest bed maker I've ever seen." Steve made his presence known.

Danny looked up, chewing on his lip. "I'm doing this with one hand, in case you didn't notice. And I'm thinking."

"I see that. There's smoke coming out of your head." Steve chuckled, moving closer to survey the wrinkled sheets and not so neatly tucked corners. "We really need to get moving."

Danny fluffed the pillows. "What, you got a hot date?"

"No, it's not that."

"Your spidey sense is tingling?"

Steve didn't answer. He made eye contact with Danny and held it. His face said it all. Yes.

"Spill it, Steven. What are you thinking?"

"There's something I want to check out."

Famous last words. Danny thought but didn't dare say.

/././

"You know, your uncle cares about your very much." Kono made sure she had Eric's attention. Which wasn't hard. The kid was mesmerized by her.

He nodded, eyes trying to focus on her necklace rather than somewhere a little lower.

"I'm serious, brah. Pay attention." She raised an eyebrow at him, smacking him on the back of the head. He sputtered an apology.

Kono studied him for a minute. "Why aren't you scared, Eric? A person in your shoes has a lot to be worried about."

He simply shrugged, leaning back in the chair, arms folded behind his neck. "You guys have my back."

"Remember that the next time you are staring at my chest then." Kono smacked him again. A little harder this time, knocking him off balance. She turned her attention to her cousin. "Whatcha got there, cuz?"

Chin had been standing in the doorway of her office watching the pair. Proud of his cousin for keeping her cool, he laughed and walked into the room, carrying a sheet of paper. "A report about a stolen SUV. A black one."

Kono grinned. "Our SUV?"

"Looks like it might be. The rental company sent over the GPS data." Chin handed her the paper. "Looks like they were just about to make a report with HPD. A group of businessmen didn't return the vehicle on time."

"Businessmen?"

"Possibly Russian ones."

Kono studied the print out. "This says they've been on Danny's street." Her next words caught in her throat. "And Steve's."

Chin had his phone out, dialing their boss. Kono had moved to the bullpen, flicking images across the table, furiously typing.

"No answer on either of their phones."

"Chin." Kono stopped and double-checked the screen. "The SUV is on Steve's street now."

She pointed at the map in front of them.

"That's right across the street from Steve's place." Chin motioned to Eric. "Come on, we have to go." When Eric didn't move fast enough, Chin scolded. "Now. We have to go now!"

/././

"That place has been empty for a couple months now." Steve pointed across the street. "I noticed tire tracks in the driveway this morning."

"So? Maybe they have a caretaker?" Danny peered through the window, his view slightly obscured by a set of sheer curtains.

"No, the place is empty. Foreclosed, I'm pretty sure."

"A real estate agent then." Danny tried to convince himself everything was fine. "Potential buyers."

Steve moved away from the window. "I looked it up while you were talking to Rachel. It's not on the market."

"You mean you had Kono look it up for you."

"What ever." Steve shrugged.

"So you want to check it out?" Danny held his wounded hand to his chest. "Why do I not have a good feeling about this?"

"You can stay here. Keep an eye out."

"And let you go in there without backup? No, babe, not gonna happen."

"I'll be fine, Danny. It's probably nothing."

Danny held up his hand. "Wait. I'll go with you on one condition."

Steve frowned, not happy with this pause in his momentum. "What's the condition?"

"Wear a vest." Danny didn't break eye contact even when Steve tried to look at the floor.

A slight tremor flashed across Steve's face. "A vest? We're just checking on the neighbors."

"A vacant house. Not neighbors." Danny grabbed his friend's arm. "Humor me, please? You have your spidey sense. And I have a feeling."

"A feeling? Seriously?" Steve pulled away.

"Please."

Steve shook his head and looked away. He didn't like to give in, but he would. Because it was Danny. "Alright. Fine."

"Thank you."