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It had been 57 hours. 57 hours since Danny had mentally classified himself into a slow moving romantic relationship with his best friend. 57 hours of a missing federal agent, witness interviews, searches, stake-outs, internet searches (not Danny himself, but he had to wait), scumbag interviews, a combined 10 hours of sleep, and finally a takedown leaving one perp dead, one in custody, and the federal agent less than grateful for a very timely rescue. Typically the first few days of dating someone involves a date. He should have known dating McGarrett wouldn’t go that smoothly.
They’d finished up at the raided condo where the fed had been held; HPD and the crime scene unit had everything under control; and Danny was bone tired, just wanted to go home and sleep for a week. But he felt he had to make a gesture. There hadn’t been a single thing said about making plans for their weekend off, a weekend when Danny didn’t have Grace, and at 5 on a Friday it seemed like a romantically involved couple should already have had plans.
“Babe?” Danny walked up to where Steve was removing his vest and pitching it into the Camaro’s trunk, and wow doesn’t that term take on a whole new meaning since Wednesday morning?
“What’s up Danny?”
Steve had a couple more hours of sleep than Danny, but looked significantly less tried than Danny felt. “I’m going to head home and crash. But… We hadn’t made any plans,” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Like a date, I thought we should.”
Steve smiled, almost that scary ear to ear smile that told Danny he needed to put on a seat belt and his Kevlar. Almost, but just a bit more … gentle. “Yeah, we should.”
“Great. Good. Give me till like, noon or so. Come over, I’ll grab something to make for lunch, maybe we can watch a movie or something?”
“Danny, we are not having sex in your shit-hole apartment.” The statement was quiet enough to not be overheard, but emphatic just the same.
“No, I…” And then Steve’s actual words hit him and Danny’s eyes went wide. When he finally wrestled down the … Ok, yes that was fear. Danny lifted his hands questioningly. “Slow, McGarrett. Do you remember the word? Slow. What the???” Steve’s grin shifted toward the need tac gear now. “It’s supposed to be a date. A first date.”
“I remember slow.” Steve closed the trunk then crossed his arms and leaned his weight on the car. “But first date? Aren’t those about getting to know each other? You find out that I’m a Pisces who enjoys cold war spy books, and I find out that you’re a single father who has raised loquacious arguments to an art form? What is it that you think we don’t already know about each other?”
“Well, I had no idea you knew the word loquacious, so there’s that.” Danny’s hands went wide as if it were a shocking big deal.
“Look, I get that it’s new and different, and that I am more comfortable with it than you are. But it’s me. When have I ever made you do something you weren’t…? Ok, yes, I know, fine.” He rolled his eyes before Danny could interject a myriad of examples. “There will be an adjustment period, I’m good with that, and the bit about having sex was a joke, but your apartment is… it’s gross. Just, I don’t know, wake up whenever, pick up a pizza with or without fruit, and bring your favorite movie to cry to over to my house.” Steve tossed Danny’s keys to him. “I’ll get Chin to drop me off, and I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll bond and hold hands and, you know, if someone’s hand ends up in someone’s pants, well…”
Danny watched Steve walk away, a little bit pole-axed at Steve’s words. But surprisingly more interested than anxious about the possibility.