Hello, this is my attempt at a Hawaii Five-0 fic. I am not sure how in character Danny is, so let me know if I made him too OOC. In this story he's nineteen, I made him roughly the same age as his portrayer-Scott Caan-was in 1996. Steve did not make an appearnce, but I'm sure he would have laughed at Danny if he told him this story.

Anyway, I don't own Danny Williams, I wish I did, but I don't. Please let me know what you think, and I will go...



May 15, 1996...

The picture on the id shoved in his face looked like him, but the name wasn't his. Alex Fisher? Who the hell was Alex Fisher? He gave the card a skeptical look before letting his blue eyes rest on his friend, Ronny, who was standing directly in front of him.

"What's this?" Danny asked not taking the card.

"Fake id, dude. Totally had this guy make us up a couple. You know, to celebrate our last few days of our freshmen year." Ronny gave him a huge grin, waving the id in Danny's face. The id was almost begging him to take it, but as a cop's son, Danny Williams was still hesitant.

"You do realize break is two weeks away, right?"

"And no time like the present to celebrate, Dan. Come on, you know you want to." the id was waved in his front of eyes again, a grin spread across Danny's face. He took the id in his hands, reading the information on the plastic card. "24? Ronny, I don't even look 24."

"It's not whether you look the age, it's if you act it. And if the bartender believes the id you show him." Ronny pulled his own fake id out, along with a second one.

"Who's the second for?" Danny asked pocketing his own id

"My cousin, Sam."

"No, he's not invited."

"It was either get him an id or have him tell my ma."

"Ronny, you do realize you're nineteen. There's not much your mother can do to you."

"You've obviously never met my mother," Ronny muttered darkly glancing down at the two cards in his hand.

"Sam's boring." Danny had the unfortunate luck of meeting Ronny's cousin at Freshman orientation back in September. He had been helping Ronny move his stuff into his dorm, which he shared with Danny, and had run into the blond while he had been using the bathroom. Even two minutes of Sam's company had Danny reconsidering choosing to go to a four-year college before entering the academy.

"Yeah, well. I just said I had to make him an id, not that he was invited."

A new smile spread across Danny's face as he said, "So, we heading to a bar to get..."

"Better," Ronny cut in, his own smile lighting up his usually snear plagued face. He took two plane tickets out of his back pocket, handing one to Danny. The young blond looked down at the ticket, his eyes widening in surprise. "Vegas?"

"Yeah. If we leave tonight we should be back by Monday night, Tuesday morning at the latest. We'll only be missing a class or two and who cares. I rarely go anyway, and you're mostly asleep..."

"Hey, I pay attention," Danny protested throwing his hands in the air.

"Yeah, to that red head in front of you."

"Regardless, I pay attention. It might not help my education..."

"...but it sure doesn't hurt to look." Ronny's smile widened, his teeth flashing in the sunlight. "Anyhoo, go get packed. You're car's got gas, right?"


"Because mine is in the shop and I'm flat broke. You think getting fake ids and plane tickets is cheap?"

"It depends, who lent you the money?"

"I had money saved up!"

"Yeah, seven dollars hidden under your mattress. You steal more money from your brother's stash?"

"Where else? Now go, I'll meet you back here in a couple hours."

"You do realize we are ultimately going to the same place, right?"

"Yeah, but I have to pick something up. Two hours, Danno."

"Please don't call me that."

"What would you prefer, your heiness? Dan the man? Danielle? Miss Williams."

"Fuck you, Ronny," Danny replied chuckling. He shook his head as he turned and walked back to his dorm. He glanced back at Ronny, who was retreating in the opposite direction. A part of him wanted to know what his friend was picking up, but another part told him to let it go. He never really knew with Ronny and if it was illegal he really didn't want to.


May 16, 1996...

Her name was Belle. He met her at a casino, she was the one hovering around the blackjack table looking for a guy on a hotstreak. Danny, having never gambled before, was up twelve-grand and rising. Ronny, who was down three-hundred, snarled something about beginners' luck. Whatever it was, Danny had a feeling nothing was going to go wrong. Especially when Belle agreed to go back to his motel room with him.

He awoke the next morning, clad only in boxers, to an empty bed. Belle had left no note of good-bye, not even her number. It wasn't his fault the only other time he had sex was with his high school girlfriend.

As Danny was getting dressed, a little bummed about Belle's sudden departure, he realized a big chunk of his money was gone. At first, he thought he had left it in another jacket's pocket, but after virtually checking every single item of clothing he had brought he realized someone had stolen it.

He was half-dressed, the upper half of his body covered, as he exited his room across the hall to Ronny's room. He hammered on the door for ten minutes before his friend answered.

"What do you...! Oh, if it isn't Romeo. Did your girlfriend steal your pants?"

"No, she stole my money," Danny replied waving his hands in agitation.

"Well, maybe she needed a cab ride home." what kind of a friend would act so nonchalant about twelve-grand going missing? Regardless of how jealous Ronny was, it was fucking twelve-grand for God sakes.

"Are you shitting me? She stole my money. Money that I won fair and square and you just act like..."

"She was a prostitute, Danny."

The blond cut off, his eyes widening. "She was a what?"

"A hooker, a call girl, a woman of the night. I mean, she was a classy broad, but still a prostitute. And she just took her pay for doing her job. Besides, it's not like you can't win it back. You know, with beginners' luck and all."

"If you knew she was a prostitute, why didn't you tell me," Danny exclaimed running a hand through his hair. "I mean, come on dude." he waved the other hand in front of him. "We're friends."

"I thought you knew, Dan. I mean, she was all over you. And you weren't the best catch in the joint." Ronny pointed at himself with a smile on his face. Clearly, he was referring to himself. "Besides, any girl named Belle is clearly a prostitue."


"Yeah, she's either a prostitute, a hillbilly's kid, or a frigging Disney character. And before you ask, I had sisters, I know."

"I hate you right now," Danny snapped pointing a finger at his friend. He then turned on his heel and stalked back toward his room.

"Oh Danny, you get so cute when you're angry like that," Ronny called around a laugh. The young blond flipped his friend the bird before slamming the door behind him.


May 17, 1996...

Over the next day and a half Danny managed to win back one-hundred of his original twelve-grand. He was beyond pissed as he ducked into a local bar. He sat at a stool, flashing his fake id, and ordered a shot of whiskey. The liquor burned all the way down. He ordered three more, each one going down just as quick. He was slightly buzzed but still ordered more.

By the time mid-night rolled around he was broke, drunk, and not feeling too hot. He tried to walk off the alcohol but kept running into everything and everyone. He couldn't remember where his motel was, and he couldn't find a pay phone to call Ronny. He was up a creek without a paddle. So fucked that he could already hear his dad saying, "Danny, really, just what the hell were you thinking? You can't be a cop if you do stupid crap like this."

He was on the verge of just giving up and lying down on the sidewalk when a cop car stopped in front of him. He tried to focus, but as the two...no one...or was it three...cops approached him he picked himself up off the curb.

"Son, have you been drinking?" the cops asked. Danny opened his mouth to answer, but instead lost his stomach contents all over the cops' front. As the man-yes definitely singular-made a disgusted sound, Danny upchucked again as the taste of vomit assaulted his throat.

"Parker," the cop said beckoning to someone in the car. A second guy got out, him and his twin approaching Danny, and barely managed to avoid a third spray of bile. "When he's done emptying his stomach arrest him. I think a night in the drunk tank will do him some good."


May 18, 1996...

His head was killing him when he woke up. At first he couldn't remember where he was, all that mattered was the fact that a bass drum had taken refuge in his head and was thud, thud, thudding away. He turned onto his side, his nose landing in a stain-filled mattress smelling strongly of vomit, and the whole night came back to his just as his stomach churned.

He was off the cell's cot in seconds, landing on his knees near a toilet. He really had nothing left to upchuck, except for nasty, yellow bile. It felt like his stomach was trying to force it's way out of his throat, along with pretty much every organ in his body. He felt like crying, or maybe he was. A part of him wished he would just die. Death had to better than this agony he was going through.

He was reduced to dry heaving after another couple minutes, his whole body tense and shaking. Sweat coated his forehead, but he just couldn't quite raise his hand to wipe it away. God, this sucks, he thought resting his forehead against the toilet's lid. At the moment he didn't even care what other prisoners had done on the seat, he just couldn't keep his head up anymore.

As the cell door opened behind him, a familiar voice saying, "Mr. Fisher, you're friend's here to get you," he couldn't help vowing to never get this sick again. Even if it was as long as he lived, he was never going to throw up again...


This is a tag to the most recent episode. I loved it so much and listening to Sexy Eyes with Steve and Danny in the car was beyond great :P