was worried. Not that he would ever
admit it, not even to himself. But the
worry was there. It sat crouched in a
ball in the pit of his stomach - a dark, viscous glob that was gnawing at him
like a hungry hyena. He tried to ignore it.
Tried to drown it out with thoughts about his own messed up personal
life. Tried to reassure himself that the
object of his worry - his walking disaster of a partner - was a grown man, a
tough as titanium nails Navy SEAL, who could very well take care of
worry persisted, twisting deep in his gut.
And Danny tended to trust his gut, especially when it came to the
Super-SEAL. That was the reason why he
tried calling his partner in the first place.
And that was why ten unanswered phone calls and four unreturned messages
later he was driving through the night-time streets of Oahu on his way to
McGarrett’s house, instead of relaxing on his couch with a nice cool bottle of
head he was going over various scenarios of how he was gonna rip into the
Super-SEAL once he laid his hands on him.
He already had a nice little rant prepared all for Steve’s benefit,
complete with “How dare you’s”, “Is it too much to ask’s”
and the all-time classic “Do I need to shove a freaking homing beacon up
“—so Gracie puts this flower in my hair and she tells me I look pretty and if I love her I’ll wear it all day, and I think, Great, I think, Greatness, because this is my day off and no way would Steve McGarrett show up at my door on my day off, right, Steven?”
As active as Danny’s imagination was, however, as strong as all his fears could be at the thoughts of his little girl being taken away from him again, he’d forgotten to factor in one very important element: Steve.