sealie | Hawaii 5-0 fic: Perspectives

Rating: gen
Warning: bigotted POV in one 'chapterette'
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: writing for fun and not for profit
Beta: Springwoof gave it a looksee, because she is awesome that way.

Comments:
1) British English spelling
2) Sentinel AU fusion in the ‘Uhane universe
3) OC POVs'

'kay this is a little fic that popped into my mind. I'm not 100% sure I want to put it on A03. It works, imo, as short 'chapters'; so I think that i'll extend it through the comments like the WIP BH fic.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

sealie

EPILOGUE

“Weird week.” Steve dangled a bottle of beer by its neck before Danny’s nose.

“How? It didn’t seem more weird than normal.” Danny accepted the drink.

Steve dropped on the lanai sofa next to Danny, and slung his legs onto the coffee table next to Danny’s shorter ones. Danny leaned forwards so Steve could curl an arm around his shoulders. He settled back, stretched like a cat, and then shivered, deliciously.

The waves lapped on the shore before them, reflected setting-sun sparkling mesmerisingly.

“I dunno. I just felt like everyone was thinking about us all week.” Steve shifted a little so he could nuzzle his cheek against the side of Danny’s head, and breathe him in.

“About us, or at us?”

“Mostly, folk just being aware of us?” Steve hazarded.

“I guess we are sort of celebrities.” Danny wriggled and got more comfortable, sinking further into Steve’s angles. He mouthed the top of the bottle, absently.

Steve snorted – Danny’s had such a mouth fetish.

Grace’s solar-powered lanai lights twinkled, cycling from a multi-coloured rainbow to simple, soft yellowy-white in the dusk. Steve preferred the starlight effect. He made a mental note, not for the first time, to jimmy the mechanism so it only glowed white.

“Celebrities, really?” Steve said out loud.

“Everyone knows us,” Danny huffed. “We’re not stars. We’re not politicians. We’re not like gurus of sentinelism. Our activism is more doing instead of saying. Okay, celebrity isn’t the right word. But I don’t know the right word.”

“You don’t know the right word,” Steve mocked.

Danny jabbed an elbow in his ribs. Steve wriggled, tickled.

“Stopit.”

“We’re a guide and a sentinel, we’re in the public eye.” Danny dug his elbow in once more, but only once. “Everyone has an opinion, accurate and inaccurate about us. But you know what?”

“What?” Steve said obediently.

“You and me, Babe, and our family--”

“‘Ohana,” Steve inserted.

“Okay.” Danny rolled his eyes. “‘Ohana against the world – we’ll be fine.”

“You know that’s disturbing and comforting at the same time. And that is so… you and the way you think.”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged, and wiggled down getting even more comfortable. “Any stand outs?”

“What do you mean?”

“When people were thinking at us, what were they thinking?” the question was loaded.

“I wasn’t reading their minds,” Steve protested.

“Yeah,” Danny said easily. “But what were they thinking?”

“There was that bigot -- La Forge.”

“I spotted him.” Danny growled.

Steve stroked his thumb up the side of Danny’s neck.

“Captain Tanaka had him under control,” Steve said.

Danny growled again. He had a history with Tanaka. “What’s Beeley up to?” he said, deliberately changing the subject.

Steve let him. If La Forge tried anything, Steve would sort it out, permanently. They didn’t need to discuss the topic.

“I think he’s trying to push anti-inflammatory smoothies on me,” Steve said.

“What? Wait… Why?”

Steve kept Danny from jumping up by clamping his arm down across Danny’s shoulders.

“It’s better than fish smoothies,” Steve said, humour threading his tone. He could see Danny making a mental note to talk to Beeley. If it meant that Danny advocated more salads and juices, ostensibly to improve Steve’s diet, Steve wasn’t going to protest. He used many tools in his arsenal to improve Danny’s poor eating habits.

“Nahele’s getting more comfortable,” Steve offered, thinking on Nahele’s subtle machinations, or not so subtle machinations.

“Would Nahele benefit from nasty kale smoothies?”

“Probably,” Steve judged, hiding a smile, “some seeds – like flax seeds – provide some of the essential Omega-3 fatty acids found in fish. We could add a family breakfast smoothie to the menu.”

Danny looked at him darkly; he wasn’t anyone’s fool.

“Or we keep experimenting with food. The farmers’ market will be on tomorrow.”

Danny heaved out a sigh, already agreeing to get up early and go. “You can get Nahele out of bed,” he offered.

Thus was the ebb and flow or debate and agreement with trade-offs in an ever increasing family.

“After the farmer’s market we can swing by and pick up Grace and George for the weekend,” Danny continued. “You’re training with Grace on Sunday morning, eh?”

“Yeah, Lucy’s joining us.”

“Oh, when did that happen?”

“I bumped into her jogging earlier in the week.”

“And you just offered your help?”

“Yeah, kid was going to hurt herself if she continued racing.”

“Aw, bless.” Danny pushed against his ribs.

“You’d do the same thing.” Steve’s kissed Danny’s ear and Danny shivered.

“Running? Never. I can show her how to knee a guy in the nuts, though.”

“I’d check with her mom first to make sure that’s okay.”

Danny hummed under his breath. Steve figured he better mention the prospective Jersey-Arts training to Gracie to pass onto Lucy, so it didn’t come out of left field. He could then offer proper, krav maga training perhaps as a warming exercise prior to running.

“What?” Danny said suspiciously.

“What?” Steve said innocently.

“You could take Nahele running.”

“Haven’t got a snowballs chance in Hawai’i of getting ‘Hele up that early on a Sunday to go running.”

“I’ll take Nahele with Kila to go visit the kallywelly welly wellies,” Danny said. “He needs to be there elevenish, yeah?”

“Thought that you didn’t want to engage with the Kakawelewele?”

“I’m not going to marry them.” Danny ran his big toe up Steve’s shin. “You know what I mean. I haven’t caught up with Kila in a while. And it does behove me to check out these Welly wellies, make sure that they are going to treat Nahele right.” The tone of no-argument threaded through Danny’s words.

Steve took a swig of his beer. The Kakawelewele were a good bunch. Danny would figure that out on his own. He settled down a little further, melding with the cushions and Danny.

“Incoming,” Danny said the words a warning but the tone amused.

Moku scurried onto the lanai moving faster than his paws, he stumbled, and straightened and then yowled at Steve, intent and imperious. It was a little like being yelled at by George in a toddler strop.

“What do you think’s the matter?” Danny asked conversationally.

“Haven’t got a clue.”

“He make a lot of noise for such an undersized scrap,” Danny said.

Moku yowled louder, turned on his tail and launched into the bushes that separated their yard from the Donavans’. Leaves rustled, and a high squeak made them both jump.

“Moku?” Before Steve could leap form the sofa, Moku padded back onto the grass, tail swishing satisfactorily.

“Whatever it was, he soundly defeated it.” Danny tugged on Steve’s shirt making him sag back down.

Moku gave them another telling off and then stalked under the lanai decking.

“It’s good to know that we have our defenders.”

Steve snorted; Moku sat comfortably on the palm of his hand.

“Back!” Nahele yelled. The click of nails across their wooden floors made Steve and Danny wince. But the once immaculate floors were a lost cause – dogs, cats, toddlers … home invasions.

Vel lolloped onto the lanai heading straight for her bowl of water under the shade of the bushy Morning Glory. She lapped enthusiastically.

“Hi, guys.” Nahele poked his head around the door.

“Good walk?” Steve asked.

“Vel has more energy than – I don’t know. More energy than a basketful of toddlers?”

Danny laughed.

Pleased at his analogy, Nahele gently lobbed a well-chewed tennis ball onto the grass.

“Am gonna get something to eat, take it upstairs and get on my homework.” Nahele jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You want another beer?”

Danny contemplated his almost empty bottle.

“You are without a doubt my favourite teenager,” Danny proclaimed.

Steve held up his own almost empty bottle. Laughing, Nahele wandered off.

“Vel, no,” Steve said warningly as the Border Collie ran her wet muzzle along the edge of the sofa cushions. But too late her muzzle was now dry. Tongue lolling, unrepentant, she leaped up onto the cushions, and settled down, head on Steve’s thigh. Steve tangled his fingers in the long silky hair behind her ear. Her tail beat, once, twice, thrumming with contentment.

Nahele came back delivered bottles and a bowl of toasted pitta breads with hummus because the teen was simply that awesome and wandered off without a word.

“I don’t like hummus.” Danny juggled the double bowl that Nahele had plopped on his lap, hummus in the centre, breads tucked around it.

“Nahele made it yesterday from scratch, from a recipe Mossy told him about. Give it a go.” Steve dipped and munched. Danny wasn’t going to enjoy kissing him unless he also tried (and liked) the healthy, vegan treat. The hummus was tasty; the aged garlic smoothed and enhanced with lemon and cilantro. “Go on try it. Something new.”

Danny reluctantly dipped and munched. He hummed. Swallowed.

“Meh, it’s all right,” he said, as he took another hefty dip of hummus.

Steve shook his head. He breathed in the warm, night air revelling in the moment: Vel’s head on his lap; Moku hunting spirits under the decking; Nahele safe; a weekend of no work ahead of them, and Danny at his side.

Content.

fin