haolehothead | (no subject)

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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.

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Danny shrugs, trying not to think too much about the details. If he does, he starts to miss Grace more than he can say and there's no reason to go down that walk of depression again. "Why wouldn't I, huh?"

"No reason," she says, not willing to go there if he's not. "Just wanted you to know I appreciate you. Enjoy it, it's probably all these lovey baby hormones. Once the kid's out I'll be a raging bitch, again."

"Hey, I'll take whatever you want to give me," he promises, popping a couple blueberries into his mouth as they talk. "I'll take the raging, I'll take the sweet. I'll take anything you have to give. Besides, you're never going to be worse than my Rachel."

"Aw, baby, you're giving the better or for worse speech to the wrong girl," she says, stealing a few blueberries for herself. "You're thinking of that really tall, GI Joe girl."

"What, that plain Jane?" Danny smirks as he rolls a blueberry around in his fingers. "I dunno. She's kind of too grenade-happy for me. I mean, do I really want to marry someone who can field-strip a gun in twenty seconds? Think of our children."

"That actually sounds kind of hot," she decides, pausing to picture it really clearly. "The hunting thing is gross, but Raylan looks super hot when he's getting his guns all ready. I'm actually a decent shot, you know. I totally shot that crazy Army toy after it tried to kill us."

Danny's a little distracted, but he shakes himself out of it. "Sorry, I had this whole disturbing place where he was actually a GI Jane type and there were tattoos and..." he waves a hand in the air, perilously close to babbling. "And why are you a decent shot? Do I even want to know?"

"Raylan taught me," she says, taking a sip of the tea out of the stupid, dainty cup. "And honestly, for all my bitching, that thing would have killed him if I hadn't done something. He's always trying to teach me survival shit."

"I'm glad he taught you to shoot, but, for my heart and my sanity, can you please just try not to wield a gun while I'm around?" he begs, hands clasped together. "I'm an old-school cop. I'd rather guns not be fired at all."

"Yeah, you see Raylan's problem is he considers himself an old-school lawman which equals shooting all kinds of shit," she points out with a grin. "Although he's lost most of the opportunity."

"To which, I am grateful for," Danny points out, shaking his head because he doesn't want to think about all the bullets he's seen since Five-0 started. "Especially now that you're pregnant and you're about to become Mrs. Raylan Shooty-Pants."

"I'm glad you're amused by my angst," she says flatly, flicking at his ear. "It's not going. to. happen. Okay? This isn't gonna become a thing."

"You said you wanted to marry him!" Danny protests, letting out a scoff as he lifts both hands to protest his innocence. "I'm just going along with what you said!"

"I said I wanted to marry him and that it was a secret and we aren't going to say anything!" she flails. "Okay? Because if you slip up and say something I will actually have to murder you."

"I'm not saying anything to anyone but you! That's still keeping it a secret unless you think the ghosts are gonna turn on you and start whispering to Raylan? And if you do think that, just don't tell me, okay? Please?" he pleads.

"No, not even me," she corrects. "Because it's not going to turn into a thing where you tease me and make comments and then I get sad."

"Why sad?" Danny asks, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. After all, he's not sure what's sad about wanting to get married. In fact, he'd think it's a pretty damn good thing.

"Because I want something I can't have," she huffs. "Raylan doesn't want to get married. He got married and it didn't go well and that's just the end of it. And I don't want him agreeing to it just to make me happy."

"And you don't know this," he counters, always argumentative when the situation calls for it. "Okay? It's like me and Steve all over again. You were the one blabbing on about how he wanted me and I should stop getting depressed. We talked it over and look at us. So talk it over."

"I'm pregnant with his baby," she mutters, fiddling with the tiny little cakes. "It's too much pressure. Anyway, whatever, what about you? Are we doing this wedding when things go back?"

"I don't know, I guess? I'm really not looking forward to having to reassemble every single plan we had to cancel from the last time," Danny admits, pinching his nose. "I guess the end of January? The snow's not letting up and we still need some time to plan."

"It'll be great," she says, squeezing his arm. "It'll be perfect and we'll all be happy for you. Trust me."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to rush it. Plus, Steve wants his barbeque and I want certain things, so it'll happen when it happens," he says with an offhand shrug, like it doesn't really matter. "I'd be okay with this going slow. He's the one trying to rush this forward at breakneck speed, remember?"

"Well get it together because someone's got to set a good example for this kid when he pops out," she says, poking a finger into his chest. "Need to have some nice, married people to guide his way."

"Nice married people, huh? You realize who I'm marrying, right?" Danny reminds her with a dubious look. "Steve and I definitely aren't going to be the nice married couple down the street who have baked cookies out. We're going to be that cop and the menace he lives with, the one who's too hot for his own good."