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“And what time are you going to be asleep by?” Danny’s voice held a put-upon quality.
“Midnight.” Grace promptly responded, big doe eyes taking up the entire top mirror, almost as if they had been over this topic at least ten times within the past half an hour they had been driving. Oh, yes. That would be because after the last sleepover Grace had been to, Danny’s weekend had been full of watching Grace catch up on missed sleep. It’s not that he minded – Danny was grateful for whatever snippet of his beautiful daughter he got, but he liked taking her out to show her the world in his precious father-daughter bonding time.
“I think she gets it.” Steve sighed, knowing that dwelling on the fact that his partner didn’t get his weekend with Grace would just make matters worse.
“Okay, Monkey.” He agreed, failing spectacularly at keeping his tone firm under the volcanic pressure of her perfected innocent look. As Danny pulled into the oversized drive adorned with birthday balloons and sparkling streamers, Grace beamed, tightly clutching the pink present box.
They got out of the car together, but Grace raced up to the doorbell ahead, waiting impatiently. As the huge double doors opened, Steve was reminded of why he always escaped to the mountains when Mary had her parties. Their vision was suddenly full of a Hollywood smile as a young mother graciously accepted the present thrust into her arms by an enthusiastic child.
“Hi Gracie, go on through.” Perfectly manicured nails waved the little girl over to the merriment inside.
“Bye Danno, bye Uncle Steve!” Grace quickly turned to hug them before racing over to her friends.
Danny forced a smile, wordlessly handing over Grace’s overnight bag.
“Thank you, Detective.” The lady said, before turning towards Steve. “And you must be the Super Steve we’ve been hearing all about.”
Steve grinned, rubbing imaginary dirt off his nose in feigned bashfulness, “Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett.” He introduced himself, holding out his hand.
The dashing smile he wore was suddenly marred as a sharp gust of wind whipped about them, flicking the end of Danny’s tie up into Steve’s face. To his credit, he managed not to splutter ... Too much.
The young mother let out a peal of bell-chime laughter, “Pleased to finally meet you.” Her eyes glittered with mirth. “Did you want to come in to make sure Grace is settled?”
Steve shook his head, trying to keep a straight face “She seems to be enjoying herself already.” After exchanging pleasant goodbyes, the two men retreated to the safety of the Camaro.
“You sure you didn’t want to stay, babe?” Danny asked with a smirk, slipping into the passenger seat.
Steve said nothing for a moment, pretending he was putting his sole focus into rearranging Danny’s chair and mirror. “Girls like funny.” He justified, pointedly not looking at Danny.
“Right.” Danny nodded exaggeratedly, his steady stare on Steve.
“Funny is the new smart.” Steve affirmed, turning onto the main road.
“Sure it is, babe.” Danny agreed conversationally, smoothing a hand down his tie.
Steve may have kept his eyes on the road, but the disgruntled huff told Danny that this was not over ... until next week.
- - - - - -
- - - - - -
"Down!” There was a rare note of alarm in Steve’s voice as he ducked around the splintered remains of one of the shipping crates, blasting his gun at whatever deluded miscreants they were currently chasing.
Danny instinctively hit the ground, bullets flying over his head as both his partner and the drug smugglers open fired. Honestly, he didn’t know how Steve even got them into these situations. Crawling on his stomach towards Steve, Danny’s expression held his near-patented mix of bemusement and exasperation.
“This is why we need backup for the backup.” He turned his stare on the optimistic ex Navy Seal.
“You’re my backup.” Steve flashed a grin, slightly tainted with a few blood smears.
“We are in a sausage factory, my friend, a sausage factory where they stuff packets of cannabis into pig intestines.” Danny brought out the hand chopping gestures. “This is the source of childhood nightmares, do you know what they are, Steven? Or do invincible Gods feel no fear?!”
A flash of pain briefly flickered over Steve’s face, but Danny was too busy staring over his shoulder at the suspect making a break; he missed the wounded expression that meant he’d swerved a little too close to home with that barb.
“Cover me.” Danny’s voice took on the air of authority to which Steve responded so well. Before he questioned the precise level of idiocy of his partner, Steve started firing bullets for the both of them whilst Danny raced off in hot pursuit of the lead scoundrel.
If he were a rabbit, Steve’s ears would have been strained to the maximum height as he struggled to piece together Danny’s movements, not being able to take his focus away from his own targets. He tried not to wince as he heard shots ring out and Danny’s “Five-0, stop!” that meant he had been spotted.
Suddenly an immense whirring filled the air as Danny threw himself against the fleeing man, solid weight impacting heavily into the stone wall, hitting the master switchboard. Panicked, the suspect tried jerking Danny off, but the smaller man held his ground like a scrappy pitbull with a particularly defiant captured bird. Knowing he couldn’t hold the man forever, Danny managed to get an arm around the suspect’s throat in the hopes of exhausting him from oxygen loss. Like a caged animal, the smuggler’s hands scrabbled desperately, the screeching clawing of jagged nails scrabbling at stone overpowered by the sickening crunch of the machines grinding into life, pulverising meat, fat and bone into a stomach-churning pulp.
Danny managed to manhandle the idiot down onto the cold ground, clenching the metal cuffs as tight as possible around skinny wrists. Pausing to catch his own breath for a second, Danny was caught off guard by the solid kick to the ribs, sending him flying backwards onto the conveyor belt.
Slipping in an ooze of blood and other fluids Danny forced himself not to think about, he desperately attempted to regain his footing, getting away from the intimidating wheels that circulated like an ancient crushing device that would not be out of place in a medieval dungeon.
He turned around at Steve’s yelled “DANNY!” which somehow managed to carry over the din. Watching the white’s of his partner’s eyes widen like a wild horse was a sight that Danny never wanted to see again in all his days.
A sharp pain suddenly pierced his head as he was suddenly jerked down above the wheels. Whipping back around, Danny watched in horror as he grasped the bars either side of the wheels, watching as the metal slowly began to trap the end of his tie forcefully between the blunt gears. His hands flung out to the metal framework, but there was not enough leverage to wrangle free, the stubborn material of the tie retaining structural integrity.
Buzzing silence rang loudly in his hears as the clack and impact of shots faded into nothingness, overtaken by the steady pound of Steve’s boots on the floor. Danny’s tired out muscles began to strain with the effort of holding himself away from certain death, the firm hand of his partner on his back a welcome last rite.
The sting of a cut across his jaw distracted him from suddenly being wrenched backwards onto the scaffolding. Disbelievingly putting his hand up to the blood, Danny eyed the wicked blade in his partner’s hand as if it were the Holy Grail. Opening his mouth to speak, Steve just held up a hand, shaking his head as they both lay panting.
“Book ‘em, Danno.” The words that Steve usually squeezed every drop of deliciousness out of were uttered with an abstracted grim determination, blue-grey eyes fixed to the slashed knot that was the only remaining aspect of Danny’s tie.
- - - - - -
- - - - - -
The ride back from headquarters was almost silent, the only sound being a quiet metal chink as Danny surrendered the car keys to Steve.
The firm hand Steve wrapped around the base of Danny’s neck felt as if it weighed the world as Danny wordlessly allowed himself to be steered around the house into their bathroom.
With surprising tenderness, Steve cleaned the grime off them both, glaring as Danny hissed at specific sore spots. When they were both to Steve’s satisfaction, he stripped the remainder of Danny’s clothes off him, throwing them into the hamper. Danny fixated on the slip of tongue as Steve licked his lips before speaking the first words in what must have been several hours.
“I bought you a present last week.” His voice was dry and gravelly from disuse, awakening some primal need in Danny that he’d prefer not to admit. “Not sure you deserve it now.”
“Thank you.” For once, his own voice was subdued, knowing how close today’s actions had come to endangering the lives of all he held dear to him.
“I had intended to use them in a way you might have liked, but you need to learn.”
Danny instantly froze, wondering Steve recalled the rather in depth conversation about limits Steve had forced him through when he first discovered Danny’s enjoyment of his control issues.
“On the bed, hands above your head.” Danny took a minute to consider the order, squarely meeting Steve’s eyes.
His partner stared back calmly, not removing his command. Slowly, Danny lowered himself to the lush covers, working residual tension out of his shoulders before raising his hands. He got the impression they would be there for some time.
Moving as gracefully as a predatory jungle cat, Steve took his time retrieving the soft leather cuffs from their “box” under the bed. He fixed them around Danny’s wrists and the bedposts, carefully watching Danny’s ever twitch and breathing patterns.
A slight hitch of breath involuntarily left Danny as Steve moved away. Immediately, Steve stopped, turning around back to face Danny before backing towards his balcony doors. As the moonlight filtered through unobscured, a wave of sea air assaulted Danny, though he would never confess to being soothed by the chill sea breeze.
His body writhed slightly in the cool air as his body began to respond, tensing up before he managed to calm himself. The hairs on his arms still rose, as if reaching out for someone to stroke them back down again; his nipples tightened, hardening into inviting peaks. Steve reached under their bed again, coming up with a small velvet box. Resting his weight gently on Danny’s stomach with one leg either side of his waist, Danny had a fantastic viewing location as Steve flicked the box open in front of him. Inside were two shining metal pins that reminded him slightly of the wicked hair clips that Rachel was so fond of.
Steve took one out and showed it to him. “Know what these are?” Danny swallowed convulsively as he clocked the pointed tip at one end and the engraved diagonal engraved pattern mimicking a tie design running along the top edge of each clip.
“Tie clips?” Danny hazarded a very well educated guess, his heart picking up at Steve’s widening grin.
“Know what I intend to do with them?” Steve’s tone was emotionally detached, almost reserved.
Danny shook his head, half of him really not wanting to find out.
“Want to find out?” Steve gave him a sincere out, not wanting to push back too far.
“Not while you’re angry.” Danny’s tone was level and honest, pointedly watching as Steve’s glare softened.
“I’m not angry.” Steve’s voice was quieter, but with a little more warmth. “But your stubborn habits put yourself in danger today, and that’s not okay.”
Danny nodded almost imperceptibly, accepting that what had initially started as a way of winding Steve up had almost killed them both.
“I think that you will,” Steve paused, finding the words he wanted, “respond well to this.”
Before he had time to fully muse on what the implications of “this” might have been, Danny’s mind was suddenly devoid of all coherent thought as Steve’s cool hand gravitated up his stomach to his chest. The slide of thin metal clamping down around his nipple was an intensely painful experience, soon numbing into icy pleasure as the sensation spread.
Steve leaned over to the box again, loving Danny’s already blissed out look. “Perhaps you still might like your punishment too much.” He teased, “I think the message will get through to you, eventually.”
Danny took in Steve’s concentrated expression as he easing apart the clip prongs of the second clip. Only one word sprang to his cognitively impaired mind in an attempt describe the magnitude of his current situation.
“Fuck.”
Even then, it still wasn’t sufficient.