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Danny was frantic. Where was Grace?
He ran, or tried to run, through what he recognized as the Honolulu airport, all bare, white walls and long windows. Why was she gone? Why was he looking for her here, of all places? He felt like he wasn't moving, his legs weighed down by, or trapped in, cement and could only go forward by willing it in his mind. That's a new one, he thought, though it made total sense.
The terminal was deserted and as hard as Danny tried to call out for her, Grace's name got caught in his throat. He was getting dizzy, because he was spinning himself around, trying to see something other than white, something that would point him in the direction of his daughter.
Movement, in one corner of the room, caught Danny's attention. He tried to focus on who or what it was, and, suddenly, he was with them. Steps away from Grace, trying to squirm out of Rachel's grip, and Steve and Kono, both handcuffed, in the custody of two faceless, shapeless men. All of the captives looked at Danny, past him, through him, with disappointment. Only he could have prevented this; it was all Danny's fault. Everyone he loved was being dragged onto a plane, bound for where, he couldn't read on the wall behind them. But, Danny just knew.
Now, he was on the runway, staring up at a private jet, like the one on which his brother, Matt, escaped. Danny took a step and the plane jumped a few feet away from him. It was like a cartoon. The jet copied Danny, move for move, and matched Danny's speed, to stay just out of his reach. He saw Grace through a window, and it gave Danny the energy and purpose to make his final assault. It was then that the jet's engines burst to life and the plane quickly taxied down the runway, forever out of his grasp.
The last thing Danny saw was Grace's face, pressed against the window of the plane, tears streaming down her cheeks, screaming 'Danno' over and over, until the jet roared out of sight. Danny yelled, with all the breath that he had, and dropped to his knees on the tarmac...
...and fell out of bed, twisted in the sheets, landing face-first on the carpet in his apartment. The morning sun streamed in, blinding him, and the missing pieces of the dream fell into place, as he quickly came back to reality. His reality.
Danny sat up, his heart still racing, and ran his hands through his morning hair. He saw the skin Steve had shed last night: a heap of black t-shirt, boxer briefs and crumpled cargoes, all deflated on top of battered combat boots. Parked next to Barbie's Dream House. The gift Danny had given Grace for their first Hawaiian Christmas together. The place where Barbie is nowhere to be found and Ken, with his slicked-back hair and dress shirt and khaki pants, is permanently shacked up with GI Joe. Who Grace liberated from Steve's boyhood bedroom.
Danny sighed and managed a small smile. At least she won't need therapy because of us, he thought. He untangled his naked self from the bedding and padded towards the sound of running water, where steam was escaping through the slightly-opened bathroom door. He ran the taps in the sink and splashed himself, trying to wash away the remnants of the nightmare.
A lilting, English accent mixed with the thrum of the shower and rang off the ceiling. "Really, Daniel, the water pressure in this flat is atrocious."
Danny went pale. "This is not happening," he said, as he spun around and ripped back the curtain.
Steve's goofy grin greeted Danny. "Morning, beautiful," he said, in his normal voice, and waited to see the look on Danny's face, a solid mix of horrified and homicidal, before he collapsed against the wall in a fit of laughter.
"You're not funny, McGarrett!" Danny shouted, his fist cutting through the shower stream and connecting with Steve's shoulder. "This is all your fault."
"Ow! Hey..." Steve expected Danny's scowl to dissolve into eye-rolling and the perfunctory Fuck you, Steven, as it had all week. But, Danny's face remained contorted, like he just couldn't shake whatever he was feeling. "What's wrong?" Steve asked, as soft as, and with the most affection, he could muster, righting himself and leaning in to kiss Danny, in one fluid, ninja movement.
Steve's lips brushed Danny's, their typical good-morning kiss, but Steve added poking tongue, trying to get his partner to smile. Danny was having none of it. What did react was Steve's half-mast, which he had been palming and soaping and stroking in the shower, waiting for Danny to wake up, so horndog Steve could have a warm, wet place or two to bury his bone. The half-mast became a full-mast between the kissing and the friction of them bumping together, and, now, Steve's erection was trapped between their bodies, poking Danny in the belly.
Danny glanced down, then locked eyes with Steve. "You're so inappropriate," he said, giving Steve his best stink-eye as he pulled away. He closed the toilet seat lid and sat down, his chin resting in his hands.
"Huh? And you're usually so fond of inappropriate." Steve shut off the water and started to dry himself. "Me giving you head while you drive the Camaro. A quickie in my office, while Chin and Kono grab some loco moco." He stepped out of the shower, still dripping in spots, and squatted in front of Danny. "Talk to me. What's all my fault?"
Danny took a deep, deep, deep breath and spilled it all. Without stopping to take another breath.
"So you know how a dream starts out and you're like Hey, I'm in Paris even though you've never been to Paris before and it doesn't look like you'd think Paris would look like but one side of your brain checks with the other side of your brain and it says Yeah, this is Paris well this is how this dream was I'm at the airport searching for Grace and I can't find her and no one else is around and then I see Rachel dragging her onto a plane and I'm trying to scream Grace's name and she looks towards me but it's like she can't see me and then all of a sudden I just know everything they're leaving for Newark because Rachel and I have been screwing around behind Stan's back and she's leaving him and doesn't want to stay in Hawaii anymore and oh, yeah she's pregnant again and I'm the father."
"Uh-huh," Steve said, trying not to interrupt.
"And then you and Kono are there in handcuffs and Chin, Chin of all people, is hauling you onto the plane too and I'm thinking Why is this happening? and then Of course it's because the governor is dead because she was corrupt and working for, or with, I'm not sure which, Wo Fat and he killed the governor and the murder got pinned on you and Chin is back in HPD as a lieutenant and he's responsible for bringing you in."
"OK," Steve said, now dying to interrupt, but, instead biting his tongue, because all of this was way too good.
"And Kono our rookie the baby of the group we're supposed to be protecting from all things evil she's being forced onto the plane by that pig Ahuna from Internal Affairs and I'm like, Huh? and then, Oh, yeah it's because she was ID'ed by some woman who saw her for less than a minute when you two broke into the asset forfeiture locker under HPD to get the ten million dollars for Chin's ransom and that woman picked Kono out of a lineup because IA started sniffing around because some ranchers found what was left of the ransom money that Victor Hesse burned and the serial numbers matched the listing for the bills in asset forfeiture's records."
Danny was panting. "Well?"
Steve stayed straight-faced, but the corners of his mouth were itching to twitch. "Was Catherine in handcuffs, too?" Steve asked. "Because she used to love it when we..."
"Fuck...you...Steven..." Danny interrupted, pressing the center of Steve's forehead with his index finger, so Steve rocked back and forth on his haunches.
"There it is," Steve laughed, proud of himself that he, finally, got his desired insult. He took a page from Danny's how-to-deal-with-nightmares playbook and decided to be direct. "Where is Wo Fat, right now?"
"Roasting for eternity, in a lava lake, in one of Kilauea's craters," Danny relayed, without emotion, like he was reading from the same page of the script for the thousandth time.
"Where he took me, to kill me," Steve said. "Where you pumped a full clip into him before he could do it to me." He ran his fingers through Danny's messy, bed-head hair and grinned. "For which I'm eternally grateful and will love you forever." Steve scrunched up his face and ruffled Danny's hair, like Danny was a cocker spaniel. Danny swatted Steve's hand away and glared at his partner. But, Steve couldn't miss the adoration in Danny's eyes.
"Chin and Kono are home and safe right now, asleep in their beds," Steve continued, "the same as the governor. Who we came clean with about the ten million dollars a long time ago. And, she smoothed it out with HPD, since Wo Fat's dirty money replaced the dirty money Victor Hesse burned. And, I took full responsibility for the entire mess. Now, what did the governor say she'll do if I ever pull another stunt like that again?"
"She'll cut your balls off, bronze them and display them proudly on her desk," Danny said, cracking a very wide smile.
"And we can't have that now, can we? Since they're two of your favorite toys." Steve stood and finished drying off, with his raging erection that hadn't flagged since he had gotten out of the shower, bobbing in time with his pulse, right in Danny's face.
Danny rolled his eyes. "Could you cover yourself, please? I mean, seriously. You have a one-track mind."
Steve cleared his throat, as he wrapped his towel around his waist, and gestured at Danny's naked crotch. Where Danny's morning glory was pointing up at Steve, standing tall and proud, like it wanted to shake hands. So, Steve licked his palm and gave Danny's cock a few, long, tight strokes.
"Again, inappropriate," Danny barked and waved his hands like he was shooing crows, in a vain attempt to get Steve to behave.
"Danno, I want a list on my desk, by 5 o'clock, today, of what's acceptable when you have bad dreams. Because, your idea of comforting me after my nightmares was doing anything necessary to make me smile, including threatening to sing to me. Which I'm sure is a prohibited form of torture, according to the Geneva Conventions. I can think of better things you and I could be doing, right now, besides sifting through your guilty conscience."
Danny ignored Steve's come-on. "Excuse me? What do I have to feel guilty about?"
"You tell me, Catholic boy. You had the dream where you lost everything. That tells me you should be treating everyone you love much, much better." Steve leaned against the doorway of the bathroom and crossed his arms. "As for you and Rachel having another baby, together, I'm out on that one. That's just the product of your twisted mind."
"Yeah, from the seeds you planted." Danny narrowed his eyes. "Your goddamned nightmares started this; somewhere in your brain, you thought I was gonna leave you and go back to Rachel. And, after you felt better, you couldn't stop busting my chops, all fucking week." Danny changed his voice, to a mocking version of Steve's. "How's the wife doing? Where's Mrs. Williams? When are you two gonna join Catherine and me on a double-date? All...fucking...week." Danny mimed wringing Steve's neck. "Then, it turned into When are you and Rachel gonna seal the deal and have another kid?" He pointed at Steve. "Your fault." Steve just smiled.
Danny waited a beat, took a breath and continued. "I mean, you know I love Grace with all my heart and I'd gladly lay down my life for her. But, come on. There aren't enough automatic weapons you and I can be polishing in front of her future boyfriends, as it is. Let alone if I had another daughter."
"That's not it, Danny," Steve chuckled, 'accidentally' dropping his towel, with a fake look of shock to match; Danny closed his eyes and shook his head, holding back a smirk. "You're afraid you'd have a boy. Little Danny Williams, Junior. A teeny, tiny version of you." Danny's glower burned holes into Steve, for the words Steve chose to emphasize. "All mouth, hair and attitude..." He crouched to retrieve his towel, locking eyes with Danny and looking like a runner, getting into position on starting blocks. "...and no height." And, he was off.
Steve bounced off the hallway wall with a bang and a laugh, followed by four thuds and a war whoop, and Danny pictured Steve running and sailing through the air, landing on the pullout bed. What Danny didn't expect, but truly relished, was the shout of pain Steve let out as he hit the mattress.
"Good," Danny laughed and yelled, "I hope a spring poked through and bit you on the ass." He stood up and walked out of the bathroom, ranting all the way. "How many times have I told you, McGarrett, that I'm sick of the short jokes? This is just another, in a long line of examples of how you can be..."
Danny turned the corner and found Steve, long, lean, naked and erect, stretched out on the small bed, with his ankles crossed and his hands behind his head. He wore a dreamy-eyed expression of utter bliss, patiently waiting for Danny to join him. Danny considered the wisdom Steve had imparted on him in the last few minutes. And, he realized, again, how lucky he was to have Steve in his life, even when Steve was being a gigantic pain in the ass. Like now, as Steve smiled and wiggled his eyebrows and flexed the right muscles, so his cock smacked, loudly, against his belly.
"...so inappropriate. And all mine." Danny laughed and let out his own war whoop, as he launched himself on top of Steve.