haolehothead: (at wit's end: by ?)
It's been one hell of a long day and a half. Danny's been retracing his steps for so long that he feels like this ought to have a case file, but he's found out just enough information to know that he'd acted like a real jackass the day before and somehow, he got the idea to chop the hell out of his hair. He's been left with a shaved head the likes he hasn't had since his early twenties and while it's not the end of the world, it's one of those things that he would've at least liked to do when he was aware he was doing it.

When he made sure Savannah was settled away, Danny headed back for the house, grabbing a bottle of wine from the Hub as he went, a blanket, and a bunch of cookies from the bakery, making a spot on the beach with the dog. He's watching the tide come in, trying to eat and drink away the day while he ignores the real regret -- a part of him, after all, just wanted to spend a quiet evening in with Steve, but somehow that never happened. He still doesn't even know how that's possible.

He rubs a hand over his head again, getting used to the lack of hair. It'll grow back brighter, bleached by the sun, and in about six weeks no less (given that it's mostly gel that does the trick). Until then, he's probably going to develop the bad habit of rubbing it, more than a little.
haolehothead: (drunken tongue: by rockingraphix)
Danny has the distinct sensation that something is wrong. The smells are wrong, the air is wrong, and what was supposed to be a nice night in with Steve looks like he's managed to tear up the town in a way he hasn't done since -- well, ever. Carefully, slowly, he comes to and sees feathers, scissors, and the occasional tuft of hair, here and there. The sinking sensation that something's wrong only increases when he peers skywards and there's nothing but blue skies.

Also, he's not alone.

"Shit," he croaks, sitting up slowly and reaching for one of the feathers to give them a tug, praying that he hasn't gotten so insanely drunk on something that he's woken up with a damn chicken -- or an army of them. He reaches up to rub a hand through his hair, to grip it as he thinks, and that's when he realizes there isn't anything there.

That explains the scissors.

"What the hell happened and what moved into my head to take over?" Danny groans, clutching at his forehead as he tries to recover anything.
haolehothead: (happiness: by followtomorrow)
It's a strange thing to be realizing, but as of that afternoon and a ceremony with signed papers and very quietly exchanged words, he was officially a married man again. Danny didn't think it would be that different, but there had been a kind of perfect calm surrounding the day. His father still wore a stern-face and his mother and sisters were glad for him, but none of it really mattered.

The thing that mattered was making a promise for better or worse. This marriage isn't about the romance for Danny, but it's about the longevity of it all. It's the 'have and hold' where he intends to have and hold this as long as he can. It's in the hotel room that he finally pipes up, untangling his grey bowtie as he unbuttons his waistcoat.

"I'm just damn glad we got to do this while I'm home," he says, continuing the conversation over his shoulder as he walks into the bathroom. "I mean, I love our friends, Steve, I do, but nothing beats feeling like you're where you belong."
haolehothead: (scratch it: by ?)
Danny's taken Kate's gift as a sign from the island not only to her, but as a message to him as well; step it up. He'd been happy to leave her to her classes and procedure books, but there were practical lessons that never hurt to have. There were also a lot of them and Danny was only one person (with only so many hours in the day). It meant that he wanted to get started. "So, we'll do a crime scene mock-up next week," he's telling Kate as he guides her to their hut. "But I figured we'd start today's lesson with some interrogation techniques," he says. "I even hauled in a perp."

He gestures to the door, knowing Steve's probably ready in the spare room. "Now, this guy's been charged with being a public menace by dangling a tourist off a hotel roof. Your job," he says, "is to try and get information out of him first, a confession second. You ready for this?"
haolehothead: (gripping tales of sex & interest: by wol)
Six days had passed and every single morning, Danny woke up in a hotel bed in New Jersey. He keeps expecting his luck to change, but somehow it doesn't. Somehow, he keeps ending up exactly where he wants to be. It's weird. It's beyond weird, but he doesn't want to complain about a good thing. The one thing that shies away from good, though, is that the longer he stays (and the more family dinners he takes part in), the more he's realizing he's going to have to tell them about him and Steve.

Hell, he's also had a niggling idea in his mind, but he's tucking it away -- for now.

"Steve," he murmurs when it's Day Six and he wakes up at home, right where he belongs. "You up?" Danny's migrated to the other half of the bed to try and splay out, taking advantage of the sheer comfort that a hotel mattress provides.
haolehothead: (how high: by ?)
Danny's starting to wonder if he'll have any hair left come the end of the month. The fourteenth of January is fast approaching and the snow's still around. Hell, he's starting to think it's never going away and at this rate, he's never going to be able to give Steve the goddamn beach wedding he wants. He's not lying, but he thinks that he might just call the whole thing off if he gets one more sign from a higher power that this isn't meant to be.

As it is, he's hanging around some of the market stalls to look for some fresh food to bring back and add to a healthy heaping of pancakes for Jack. If he's staying the night, Danny wants to have something ready for him in the morning.
haolehothead: (overexposed: by ?)
If Danny's honest, there are few joys in life that really exceed the love of one's family, a good meal, and watching the game when the day is done. Ever since he got to the island, he's had no lack of the first two, but the last has been a little antiquated. Look, it's not like he's up with technology, seeing as they're both in that ever-long fight, but he'd appreciate not having to queue up a film reel every time he wants to see a game.

It's why he practically started drooling when he woke up, the weather was back to normal, and he had gifts a-plenty. He's out searching for someone to share it with and Kate's one of the first he goes to because he thinks, just possibly, she might appreciate a good football game.

He knocks on the door, leaning on his foot as he hopes to God that Steve's got the connection up while he's gone. "Hey!" he calls out. "Tell me you like football, cuz I got this thing. You're gonna love it."

[Homeplot]

Dec. 26th, 2011 09:05 pm
haolehothead: (gripping tales of sex & interest: by wol)
Danny's back aches.

It's the first thing he notices. His back aches to the point that he finds it strange because he's no longer sleeping on the nice mattress that he procured so many months ago. There's no dog-breath filtering into his face and did he mention that his back hurts? Danny shifts slightly and when he cracks open an eye to try and figure out if he sleptwalked to the crappy bed in the middle of the night, what he finds steals his breath instead.

"Shit," he breathes out. "Shit. Oh, shit," he says, checks his watch and immediately starts panickedly grabbing for socks and shirts and that's when he notices he's not alone. He quickly thinks back to those months and tries to track who he had a one-night stand with when he looks closer.

He knows those tattoos. He definitely knows the sense of denial he's feeling and he can't help the sigh of relief when he realizes that it's Steve. "Hey," he barks, throwing one of his t-shirts at Steve. "Get up and get out or go hide in the bathroom. Mattie's gonna be here any minute and I do not need to explain this. Not right now."
haolehothead: (walk toward you: by ?)
Danny crosses his arms over his chest as he exhales, trying to figure out the best way to discuss -- well, any of this -- and he figures that Clark has a right to know. If nothing else, Clark's one of Danny's best friends and a level guy, at that. "The thing about Steve you have to understand is that he's lost so goddamn much in his life that when he decides he wants something, that's it. It's done, it's over," he says. "He made me his partner after a five-minute meeting. He decides what he wants, he gets it, he goes for it, I got no problem with that. But see? See, when Steve decided he wanted me in this forever thing, we've had the whole..."

He trails off. "My first marriage was good. We were in love, we were good together, Clark, we were so good. Rachel is...incredible. She's gorgeous, wit like a razorblade, smart as anything, can make you feel like you're the only person in the world and the best one, at that. So I'm still madly in love with her and I get served with divorce papers. Everyone is so keen to tell me that Rachel isn't Steve, but I loved her. I loved her right until the end and all I can do is keep thinking of all the ways Steve will want to leave when the shine and the polish wears off."

"And you've talked to him about this?" Clark prompts. Danny has a way of making himself known whether you like it or not, but Steve is a whole lot like Clark himself, and he knows how slow he can sometimes be on the uptake when it comes to things like this. "About wanting to feel more secure before you take the plunge?"

"Steve? Yeah," Danny concurs quietly, uncrossing his arms when they get tense and he feels like he might snap. "Yeah, we talk about it. He tries to convince me it won't be the same, but there's no accounting for my paranoia, if I'm honest. He can try and dissuade me until the cows come home."
haolehothead: (all dressed up: by ?)
He should have listened to the dog.

Really, it's Danny's own fault that when Zulu makes a yelping noise until the mistletoe and stops in his tracks, he doesn't pay attention. Instead, he heads right for the pup and gives him a worried look and then when he tries to step back to try and find help, he can't. He's stuck. He's stuck and the dog's stuck and when Danny looks all the way up, he sees a sprig of mistletoe and it can't be. It just can't.

-- though, he's living in Victorian London, he spent three days as a woman, and he was compelled to tell nothing but the truth another time. So maybe it can. He sighs and glances down at the puppy, shaking his head. "So, we're in this together, huh?"

Which is what he thinks until one of those stray cats comes up and rubs its nose against Zulu's and suddenly his dog's free and Danny's not. "Hey!" Danny shouts after Zulu when he goes scampering off. "Come on, where's your loyalty?"
haolehothead: (glow: by ?)
Thank god the school is close. It doesn't take Danny very long to get there and once he is, he makes sure to scope out the nearby rooms for any lingering students. It's empty, which means that the majority of people are probably at the party and that means that Danny's going to get some privacy. He gets settled and can't help his smile of delight when Steve comes in, asking if this was what he was thinking.

"Honestly, after you offered me what you did, thinking's been kind of out the window," he confesses with a small motion of his fingers near his head.
haolehothead: (arguing with steve: by ?)
Danny's been trying to get to know most of the IPD staff because they're like-minded people with a similar cause, goal, and background. Some of them are easy to relate to (like Beckett, who teases him about Jersey, but also brings back a real fondness of memory for Danny) and some are just sort of out there (like that Maladicta). And then, there's Alistair.

Danny likes the guy from what he knows of him. Hell, Danny likes him for the dog alone and the weapons he uses are icing on the cake. It's why he's hung around until his shift is long over, waiting to really get to know one of his coworkers.

"Hey! Alistair! Wait up!" he calls when he sees the hulking man in question.
haolehothead: (follow me: by fprintmoon)
It's December 13th, the snow has yet to abate, and Danny's stuck staring down a seemingly impossible decision. Tomorrow, he's supposed to be getting married. And no, it's not the marriage part that's hard. It's the part where the snow and the ice and London have banded together to make it so that all of the things that Steve wanted out of this day are gone. Sure, Danny thinks that the most important part is the both of them, but he can't shake the feeling that going forward like this is wrong, somehow.

He just doesn't know if he's being overly reactive or if this is genuinely something he needs to worry about. He's found himself a spot in the basement of the Compound to search through the clothes-box. Nothing is what he expected and sure, he could get hitched in Victorian wear, but the real question is, 'does he want to?'

More than that, he has to ask himself if going forward like this isn't an insult -- somehow -- to all of Steve's wishes for the wedding.
haolehothead: (tongue porn: by followtomorrow)
It's another one of those nights. Halfway through trying to get to sleep, Danny inches closer to Steve and realizes that he's about to go out of his mind considering the whole 'Steve is right here and I can't touch him'. He equips himself with a jacket, boots, and trudges in his comfortable pajamas until he's at Neil's home (carrying a lantern as he goes). He breathes out small puffs of air into his fist, giddy at the sight of winter, not so giddy at the fact that Steve is still putting a Chinese wall between them, so to speak.

He knocks, quietly, just in case the girls are asleep, and rubs a hand over his arm to keep the blood flowing. One night away won't net him much sleep, but it'll preserve Steve's goddamn honor.
haolehothead: (sunny: by ?)
Danny's not a fan of lying about things -- sure, he may obfuscate and avoid the whole truth, but he likes to be honest. Honesty means admitting that ever since the snows fell and London blanketed the city (ever since his entire wardrobe got stolen from him), he's been practically giddy. Sure, it might not let up by the wedding, but he constantly gets to wear gorgeous suits. He's at the clothes-box now, looking for more tweed and woollen vests to go with the dapper suits and cravats he's already found.

Steve is probably still having an apoplectic fit about not getting to wear a t-shirt and cargo pants, which only makes Danny happier in the end. "Alright, how about a top hat, now," he coaxes the box -- because his hair is already a ruffled mess, with the lack of styling gel.
haolehothead: (serious: by ?)
It's been another one of those nights. In the middle of the night, Steve had pulled away from Danny and he's been woken up by the sound of the waves crashing on the shore over and over again. He tries to drown them out with a pillow, he tries to seek out Steve's heartbeat to settle him, but he can't get to sleep and by the time he wakes up in the morning, he's netted a grand total of two hours, at the most.

Exhausted, he throws an arm over his eyes, letting out an exhausted yawn. He's supposed to be at the IPD for a patrol in an hour and if he's honest, he wants to do nothing but sleep for the rest of the day. Except he wouldn't get any sleep until low tide.

"Goddamn ocean," he mutters, huffing and flopping over with a resounding thud.
haolehothead: (hide the smile: by ?)
Danny has this feeling that if he doesn't make Steve break tonight, it's never going to happen and he's going to go absolutely freaking insane before the wedding. What the hell was he thinking being supportive and helpful and good to Steve? It's done nothing for him on his end and he's left with a lot of frustration.

As per Rachel's instructions, though, he's at her place and wearing a casual yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans, sneakers on his feet as he rocks back and forth. He's irritable. He's really goddamn irritable because he hasn't been sleeping without Steve (seeing as Danny is just not good at that temptation).

"Okay, so, I got a huge favor to ask you, but let's start with me asking how slutty you're about to make me."
haolehothead: (bliss: by ?)
Danny's been working a nice little meal all day. There's a little fowl, a little spicy sauce on top of it, and he's just written Steve's name down on a pretty little sheet of paper that might, one day, give him some kind of decision power -- so he may be crazy, but at least he's gonna be crazy as he goes down swinging. He's wearing a pair of jeans, blue casual shirt with the collar awry as he plates several pieces of the spicy chicken, dolloping the sauce onto the rice as well and setting out the plates.

"You," he informs Zulu, "do not get such spicy things, because your little dog stomach would probably go kaboom and I do not need to clean the walls or cope with my unending grief," he rattles on as he cleans up the kitchen, aware that Steve is probably still at work.

Maybe he hasn't even seen the notice. Maybe he's still with the ITF. Maybe he's out swimming laps around the island, Danny doesn't know. "Hey, c'mere, boy," Danny coaxes, crouching down to beckon Zulu into his arms. He lifts him up, toting him around the hut as he wanders, tidying up any stray messes.
haolehothead: (shoot second: by followtomorrow)
State of the Plots/Pups for November:

Current: So, I got a promotion last month, which mostly means that I’ll have more work to do on openings. November is projecting out to be incredibly busy, but then December will taper off and it will be fine. So, what I’m mostly looking at with this SotP is the three big posts and some pre-play that need to happen because there are certain game-events that I don’t want to ignore. So, yes, it will be a little different. Think of this as the November plan.

Read onwards: )
haolehothead: (in thought: by ?)
It hits him when he's making the omelettes. Out of nowhere, it just smacks him straight in the face. It's early November, he's making breakfast, and he has no goddamn idea what day his wedding is going to be. He doesn't know who's marrying them, he doesn't know what the hell kind of flowers or food or music or guest list is even going on, he doesn't even know the venue.

He kind of feels a little bit like panicking and he hates that Rachel isn't here. She planned their wedding to a tee, and now he wants her advice. He just wants to pass off the planning to someone else, but he can't do that because letting Steve plan this stuff is like putting a bull in a china shop and asking him to play nicely.

"Steve!" Danny shouts, voice a bit strangled. "Attention, front!"

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