Danny sighed, opened his eyes, and said, "Let me up."
"Because I'm going to go check this guy out and when I discover that you're displacing your anger about what went down in San Diego..."
"Technicality." Steve spat the word out like he hated the taste of it in his mouth and he probably did.
With their testimony, McClarin should have gone away for a good many years but thanks to a smart ass lawyer and a dumb-ass at HPD, the bastard was going up for the minimum time and would be back out on the street in two years tops. Steve was pissed; Danny got that. He was pissed too. But he wasn't taking out his frustration on some poor bastard Steve had inexplicably taken a dislike to.
"And I'm not displacing anything," Steve continued, his hands curled into fists on his thighs. "That guy is dangerous."
"That's not a crime. You're dangerous. Under the right circumstances, I'm dangerous. Everyone we know is dangerous. And..." Danny raised a finger cutting Steve off. "...at least half of those dangerous people are the good guys. And, since flying with you really sucks when you're in this mood, let me up. I will put my trained observational skills to work and then you will calm down, enjoy the in-flight entertainment, and I will have a few blissful hours of peace and quiet before the shit that follows us around hits the fan."
Steve gave him a long look – Danny met it with a raised eyebrow – then unbuckled his seat-belt and unfolded himself out into the plane's narrow aisle. They could have waited 36 hours and taken a military flight but, after the debacle in court, they'd just wanted to get home.
"Be careful," he growled, as Danny slid past him. "Don't spook him."
"Of course not," Danny muttered, waiting for Steve to sit down before he started toward the widebody's center toilets. "Because I've never actually observed a suspicious character before even though I'm... what's that again? Oh yes, a police detective with a badge and everything."
Steve made his you're not as funny as you think you are face but settled reluctantly into his seat.
The toilets were occupied. Danny'd been counting on that. He rocked back on his heels, tucked his hands into his front pockets, and glanced back at the seats he'd just passed. The guy Steve was obsessing about sat four back, on the aisle of the five seat center row. He and his... companion, were the only two in the row and, given said companion's size, that was probably a good thing. Hell, even Danny found the seats cramped and this guy was bigger than McGarrett.
Suspicious guy was definitely twitching. He had a set of earbuds in and his lips were moving. Looked like... Danny squinted a little. He'd never really rocked the lip reading courses he'd taken back in Jersey but this looked like let me make your mind...leave yourself behind...be not afraid...
If he had to guess, Devil's Dance by Metallica.
Suspicious guy had good taste in music. Then, as he watched, an earbud popped out and suspicious guy's fingers were shaking too hard to put it back in.
Companion guy reached over, caught it, and paused, the earbud dangling between two fingers, thumb stroking the stubble on the other man's jaw. Suspicious guy said something Danny didn't catch. Companion guy rolled his eyes, ran one enormous hand back through his hair, and shook his head.
Danny was still grinning when he got back to his seat.
"Well?" Steve demanded, surging up into the aisle.
Danny slid past him. "You're right," he said, doing his seat belt up. "He's twitching."
"I knew it, I..."
"Because he's terrified."
"Terrified. As in afraid of flying."
"Dangerous." Danny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you keep saying. And you said he was probably military, right? There's no rule that says you army guys have to be happy about having your feet off the ground."
"I know." Danny reached up and patted Steve's cheek, his thumb lingering for a moment on the angle of Steve's jaw. "You're Navy." When he brought his hand down, he only let it drop as far as an admittedly impressive bicep, where he wrapped his fingers around the curve and squeezed gently. "He's seen some shit, it's all over his face, but I guarantee he's no danger to this plane or the people on it. He's just scared." He felt Steve relax, just a little -- figured his partner had some issues about flying himself given where planes tended to take him – and added, "Besides, did you see the guy he was with?"
"Big guy. Six four or five, maybe two twenty. Working muscle, not gym muscle. Brown hair, hazel eyes."
Killer smile. But Danny figured he'd better keep that particular observation to himself. "Yeah, well, one, the big guy is keeping an eye on things for you and two, he's doing it because they're together."
"Danny, I can see they're together."
"Together together, babe."
Steve turned toward him, finally looking away from terrified guy's elbow – all of him he could see from his seat. "You can't know that."
Danny rolled his eyes, ran a hand back through his hair, and shook his head. "Trust me, Steven, I can absolutely know that."
"For the five millionth time, because the guy with the actual working shark mouth on his back was in Hawaii and you're not driving Chitty Chitty Bang Bang." Sam sighed. "Please, Dean, I'm begging you, take the Gravol, take the Benedryl, and go to sleep. Flying really sucks when you're like this."
"Flying really sucks period." Dean's fingers drummed out a beat on his knee that wasn't even close to the beat his knee bobbed to. "And besides, if those cops..."
"They won't bother us."
"You don't know that. The big dangerous looking dude's been watching us since the terminal."
"Technically, he's been watching you."
"And how is that better?" Dean demanded.
"His partner and I just cleared things up."
"What? Where the hell was I?"
"Sitting right here." Sam closed his hand over Dean's, stilling it momentarily. "Freaking out."
Dean frowned. "And I missed you having a conversation with the little blond guy? Okay, fine," he continued before Sam could answer. "I'll take the damned pills. Couldn't be any less use asleep."
The conversation had been non verbal but Dean didn't need to know that. It had consisted of an understanding smile and a tiny nod back toward the little blond guy's own seat where the big dangerous looking dude was waiting. Sam had found a matching smile of his own and then rescued Dean's left earbud for the seven hundredth time.
Sam watched Dean swallow the pills. Kept watching until his eyes closed and his breathing evened out because he didn't entirely trust his brother not to have palmed them out of some weird idea that he had to stay on guard for the entire flight. Then he got as comfortable as cramped space allowed, and closed his eyes. They were still a way out from Hawaii and he had every intention of enjoying those few blissful hours of peace and quiet before the inevitable shit hit the fan.
"Oh yeah, well mine drives a hundred and ten as a default."
"In a forty year old car?" Sam asked.
"Forty year old...?"
"Impala?" Danny took a long drink of his beer then tilted the bottle toward the younger Winchester. "Okay, you win this round."
"I told you they were dangerous." Steve took a step away from Danny's side and stomped out a bit of burning... something. He had to give Sam and Dean credit; when they took out a giant land shark, it was definitely out.
"I didn't deny they were dangerous," Danny muttered. "I said the plane was in no danger from them. I don't believe..." He shook his head and kicked at a piece of rubbery flesh. "Do you believe?"
Steve shrugged. "I believe in what I see. And..." He held his hands out from his sides as the first of the patrol cars arrived on the scene. "...I believe in what I can shoot."
"Yeah, well, I do believe I'm thrilled they're heading back to the mainland."
"You do believe?" Steve grinned. "Big rubbery monsters bring out the southern belle in you, Danno?"