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Entry tags:

@ au

[AU]

Danny's one downfall to staying in Steve's guest room is presenting itself at an alarming rate, at this point. And that's this: come his weekends with Grace? Now he's got a SEAL near him, being unpredictable and generally bad with kids. That and he's got beach access, so now Grace just wants to swim.

Danny has let her play on the beach, suntanned and hatted up, and once he's through, he heads up to the kitchen to grab a beer and give Steve a Talk about his expectations. "Okay, one," he says sharply, holding up a finger. "No guns around my daughter. No knives. No weapons in any fashion."

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Well, that's one way to get Danny to stop staring at his kid for a couple seconds. Steve fellates the bottle and Danny makes a tiny little noise caught in the back of his throat that he masks with a cough as he goes back to circling ads and watching Grace. "It's a big deal, okay? It's a big deal because this isn't how people live together. This is a bad situation and I'm gonna find a new place."

It's an unconscious action, which explains why he looks up, mouth peeling away, when Danny coughs all of a sudden.

"I'm not saying it has to be a permanent thing, I'm just - you don't have to stress yourself out worrying how everything's going to work out when it'll probably work itself out."

"And will the Apartment Fairy be working these things out for me?" Danny asks, sarcasm heavy in his tone. He might be going overboard with it, in fact, to get away from embarrassing sex noises he makes around Steve.

Steve gives him a look.

"Whatever, Danny. You want to leave, be my guest."

"I'm just saying!" Danny gestures expansively, his voice raising past the normal decibel level like it tends to when he gets worked up, "that it's not a good idea for you and me to be bunk-buddies or roommates or whatever when we've got this thing between us."

"We're in completely different rooms," Steve interrupts, pretty much before Danny's even finished with his sentence.

"What, do you think I'm going to jump you while you're sleeping?" He scoffs quietly. "I'm pretty sure I got the hint after the other night."

"It wasn't a..." he trails off, pausing because Grace is just there and he'll be damned if she has to hear this. "It's not that I don't want you, jesus, McGarrett, puff your ego back up. I'm just saying that given our partnership and our situation, we are not having a one night stand despite how much I want to one night stand the crap out of you."

"Then what are you saying, Danny?" Steve hisses, casting a brief glance in Grace's direction before his gaze settles on his partner's face again.

"Just - talk to me."

"Talk to you about what?" Danny asks, using his hands to try and emphatically demand what Steve wants from him. "I'm just saying, I have a daughter and we have a good thing going. We're not going to fuck that up for just fucking," he says firmly.

"And what, you think I want just that?" Steve asks, gripping his beer a little tighter, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees - and then it dawns on him.

"Because of how things are with Catherine," he quietly adds.

"Tell me what I'm reading wrong, Steve," Danny says, a bit hopelessly and very seriously, given that he sees the situation for what it is. He shifts and rubs his thumb up and down the beer bottle, eyes out to sea.

"Danny, if it was you, I - "

He pauses, trying to get a handle on his words. Leans forward, his head dropping down between his shoulders, listening to the sound of the water lapping against the shoreline.

"It wouldn't be a one-night-only."

Danny laughs at that, a sharp and hollow sound because, well, that doesn't exactly improve the situation. "Well, thank you for implying it'd be good enough that we fuck more than once," he drawls with heavy sarcasm.

"Who said I want it to just be fucking, Danny?" Steve snaps, a little abrupt and sharper than he intends, his eyes flashing briefly as his head jerks up.

Yeah, there's a panic button at the same time as his stomach bottoms out with something resembling sheer desire. He kind of hates that Grace is still splashing in the water, because something like that deserves an honest conversation followed by possibly shoving his tongue down Steve's throat, but he's got his kid.

"...come again?"

His voice is quiet, slightly ragged, but deep, and he doesn't exactly meet Danny's gaze, glancing out toward the water instead.

"You heard me."

"Okay, here's the deal. When Grace is done with her swimming, I'm taking her back to StepStan and Rachel because they have a curfew and I'm gonna get back and we're going to talk. Yes?" Danny verifies firmly. "No running away? Talking?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Steve murmurs, taking another sip of his beer, feet still firmly planted underneath the sand.

Danny just nods, and then nods again, and pushes out of the chair in order to go spend time with Gracie -- properly -- until the hour comes that he needs to take her home. He clutches hold of her hand possessively. "Come on, Monkey," he says, keeping the sadness out of his voice as he takes her back to Rachel.

He, meanwhile, is practically about to explode by the time he gets back to McGarrett's, lingering in the foyer like he's not sure whether he wants to go forward or not.

Steve finds ways to keep himself otherwise occupied, giving Danny the time he desperately needs with Grace, and then reappears just in time to say goodbye before she goes back to Rachel and Stan's.

In the time it takes for Danny to drop Grace off and then come back, Steve actually does pull out a gun or two, taking them apart and cleaning each part thoroughly before putting them back together. He's putting a clip back in right around the time he hears the front door open.

Danny wanders forward in time to see the guns and he practically has an apoplectic fit on the spot. "I was gone for twenty minutes. Twenty min...I swear to god, you couldn't go twenty minutes without going for your guns? Really? Really, McGarrett?"

Steve's expression vaguely resembles a deer caught in headlights as he discreetly thumbs the safety back on.

"It was longer than twenty minutes. Wasn't it? Right?"

"You're a grade A schmutz," Danny mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to remember that this is a man that Danny actually wants in several ways, not least of which include intimacy and relationship. But then, given his marriage, he doesn't go for convenient and expected. "I'm going to bed."

"What happened to talking?" Steve asks, folding the guns up in a case and spinning the lock shut.

"Which was your idea, in case you forgot."

"Yeah, until I come back and find you fingering firearms," Danny says, exasperated. "Look, you say you want more than just screwing around, but let's be honest here. I'm a divorcee with a bad rep for relationships. You get me, you get Grace, and we have the whole work thing to deal with," he reminds Steve. "There are any number of ways this can go wrong."

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