Work Text:
So it should be a standard everyday drug bust, right, except it’s not, because they’re Hawaii Five-0 and things can never go the normal way in Danny’s life, not since he got kidnapped by Steven fucking McGarrett.
It’s all pretty routine for them, at least, with Steve scaling the outside of a three-story building like it’s a plastic rock wall and Chin tracking down some guys who possibly don’t even have fingerprints, Danny really isn’t sure because he never is anymore, and then Kono.
Oh, Kono, bless her terrifying little soul.
For some reason – a reason which is probably named Steve, let’s get real, Danny thinks as he watches in horror from the sidewalk – Kono decided it’d be a good idea to follow Steve up the side of the goddamn building with a shit ton of hand grenades tucked all into her clothing. She even grasps one – no, two between her teeth. Like it’s a totally casual thing to do. Because apparently the easiest way to get to the drug smugglers, who’ve leapt over to the next building by now, is a combination of Kono chilling on a ledge, handing off grenades, and Steve catching them one-handed as he swings from one window ledge to the next.
Because apparently it’s better to chuck bombs at these two greasy kids, one of whom just happens to be carrying a bazooka. Because it’s too hard to take some fucking stairs.
“Come on, Danno,” Steve had said, preparing to scale the side of the building. “We can’t let those kids fire a bazooka into an apartment building full of civilians. I’m not going in there.”
“Contrary to what you might believe, Steven, you are not Spider-Man,” Danny had snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Steve made this almost hilariously disappointed face.
“You’re supposed to tell me I’m totally, definitely not Superman,” he said, grabbing a window ledge and hauling himself up.
“Oh, my apologies,” Danny said, and his voice wasn’t rising just because of Steve’s increasing altitude. “Next time I am calling you insane I’ll be sure to take your preference for insult into consideration.”
“Watch your hands, bro,” Chin said mildly, tapping away at his iPhone.
“I think half the time you spend on that thing you’re just playing Tetris,” Danny huffed, crossing his arms and watching Steve ascend up the brick wall, his cargo pants pulling taught as he grappled from ledge to ledge. At least he had a nice view from down here.
The view is rather less pleasing when it involves Steve swinging from one hand and tossing grenades with the other.
Chin barely flinches when the bazooka falls from the roof of the next building over and lands maybe ten feet away, because that’s safe.
“Hey Danny,” Steve calls, pointing vaguely at the other building and tilting at a precarious and impossible angle so he can make eye contact. “Can you take care of that?”
“Excuse me, I only attend to the requests of those who are not putting themselves in imminent danger,” he shouts. “Wait. That’s actually completely false, because you put yourself in idiotic, asinine situations whenever I turn my back for three seconds. Let me rephrase. No, jackass. Get off of the side of the fucking building!”
By the time he sucks in a great breath at the end of his sentence, Steve has touched down in front of him, grinning.
“Okay, fine,” he concedes, and the bastard doesn’t look ruffled in the slightest, because he’s Steve and he’s an asshole. “Now will you book ʼem, Danno?”
“I hate you and I hate my job and I hate everything,” Danny replies, heading off to take some stairs like a normal human being.
Apparently Steve, with his freakish aim even when in a stance birds and monkeys and ninjas wouldn’t be able to pull off with such finesse, had managed to blast the drug smugglers off their feet but not kill them, so all Danny has to do is cuff them and shove them around a little once they wake up. Steve really is an asshole.
“Seriously, Kono,” Steve is saying when Danny rejoins them. Steve’s using that huge smile he only gets when something life-threatening has gone down. Danny faces it about twice a day, after those special moments when Steve nearly gets killed and his own heart stutters in his ribcage. This job is so terrible for his health, and he’s not even the one usually getting almost-dead.
“Seriously,” Steve laughs. “How many grenades did you stuff down your shirt? Even I didn’t try to climb up there carrying anything.”
“I think it was at least ten,” Kono says with a grin. “It’s wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you’re just losing your touch, Boss.”
“Or maybe the crazy’s rubbing off,” Danny mutters, and Chin snorts.
“Are you trying to steal my job, Officer?” Steve asks, pulling her into a headlock. Kono laughs as her forehead bumps against Steve’s stomach, not bothering to fight him off.
Danny shoves his hands in his pockets. This seems to be one of those bonding moments that make things uncomfortable for everyone else. He resists the urge to whistle and scuff his feet.
“Chill out, bro,” Chin says, kind of giving him the side-eye.
“What?” Danny asks, and maybe he is shuffling a little as Kono laughs and slaps halfheartedly at Steve’s ass from her awkward angle.
“Just because you’re married doesn’t mean he can’t put other women in a headlock.”
Danny blinks.
He blinks a few more times.
“We’re not –”
“Don’t bother, bro,” Kono says, wriggling out of Steve’s loosened grasp. “You’re totally married.”
“We are not –” he tries again.
“We kind of are,” Steve replies nonchalantly, shrugging. “Oh, hey, HPD’s here to take away our friends.”
Then he gets that oh my god best idea ever that will definitely make Danny hate me even more look on his face.
“Think we could keep the bazooka?”