Title: Follow the Lady

Author: Nzie

Archive: Please contact for permission.

Rating: PG-13 for later violence, some minor language possible, otherwise free of objectionable content.

Categories: Post-Ep (1-16 "E Malama"), Crime, Drama, some Whump, some Angst, Casefic

Characters: Danno-centric Teamfic

Summary: Perhaps if he could just keep rearranging the cards, the heat he'd drawn wouldn't burn too badly.

A few minutes after Danny'd gone in, Stan saw him return, striding out the door with a determined, barely-disciplined fury he was glad was no longer directed in his direction. Danny opened the door, sat down, closed it behind him, and let out a half-huffed sigh before reaching for his seatbelt.

"I would never put Grace in danger," Stan felt compelled to say. "You know that, right?"

"I wouldn't have bothered with the whole anger-management thing otherwise," Danny said, peering over his shoulder as he backed out of the space.

Stan knew they would never be friends, and probably would never have been under any circumstances, but he trusted implicitly Williams' ability to sort this mess out. "What's going to happen now?"

"It's over." The detective glanced at him briefly. "Don't worry about it."

"Just like that? Come on, Danny."

"Look, I handled it. I went in, I talked to the guy. I think he gained some clarity, with my help, and he won't bother you again."

"Please," Stan said after a moment, "tell me you didn't do anything... ill-advised."

"Excuse me? I am not the one who tried to manhandle a bad guy without support. I am the one who made sure the guy who put a gun near my daughter won't do it again, but of course, I'm the nut. The guy's off your back. Just shut up."

"You didn't—"

"—No, I didn't hurt him," Danny broke in.

"—give him any ammunion to get you fired, I was going to say."

"Well, he has my badge number," Danny said more quietly with a chuckle. "But no, nothing usable. I imagine he'd find it hard to explain exactly what I was upset about."

Stan thought for a moment. "If you need any help, legal help, just in case, tell me. I'll pay for the lawyer."

"I got it."

"Seriously, Danny—"

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Mr. Edwards. Also, if I really am as unstable as you and Rachel like to tell your lawyers, why would you put me in a room with one of them? Just leave it. If you want to say something, just say it. I'm done."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Stan," Danno answered before muttering, "Seriously, don't." After a moment, he glanced again at Rachel's husband. "Since they didn't get the tape when they ransacked your office, I assume you have it on you?"

"Yeah, on a flashdrive."

"K, then, we're going to make a quick stop, just a few minutes, before I drop you off."

"Police department?" Stan asked, surprised.

"Nope."

After dropping Stan off, Danny pulled his car around the corner and parked. He sat in silence for about fifteen minutes, only moving one arm as if sorting through floating files or to support a thoughtful chin. Finally, he looked at the clock. It was just about five. He briefly wondered if he should wait at the palace or go to the courthouse. Assuming there were no noteworthy injuries and that they had decided to stay for the testimony and any wrap-up, he could probably get back to the office before his team.

He didn't doubt that the witness had made it in. Steve had found her, and, however much grief he liked to give him over his tactics, Danny knew this day had needed Steve McGarrett's special talents. It was an assignment for SuperSEAL, and while he could have helped, it was one time he would have worked on his partner's terms. Of course, mentioning that to Steve was out of the question.

He ran a hand through his hair, but then smoothed it back into place immediately. He had no reason to go to the office; it was after working hours and a call would be sufficient. But he needed to get started, and, more importantly, he wanted to see his team. Between Grace and a case, there was no question, and they understood. He still felt responsible, however, and needed to make sure they were fine. His fellow workaholics would need to kick back, not to mention interrogate him about the carjacking. That was okay with him; he could play distract-o-gram as well as anyone. He planned to pick up some beer, maybe order a pizza, maybe two pizzas, or one actual pizza and a tropical abomination masquerading as a pizza. Five o'clock. He turned the key in the ignition and drove off.

When Chin, Kono, and Steve walked into the Five-0 offices, the two men carrying recently clean rags and trying without success to look less like they had been running through the jungle all day, they found the conference table tidied up with bottles of beer set out.

"Hey, where's the pizza?" called Steve to the empty room.

"It's Chinese and it'll be here in twenty," Danny replied from a side office. He stepped out with napkins, plates, and utensils. "Ooo, yeah, good thing. That'll be just enough time for the two of you to shower. You weren't hoping to wander into Maybelline's photo shoot for its Rambo cosmetics line, were you, Steve?"

"I told him, Danny," said Chin with a laugh.

"You're no bed of roses, either, Princess," Steve chided the unpainted but similarly filthy Chin.

"So," Kono broke in, "everything okay with Grace?"

"She's fine."

"You find out what happened?" Chin asked, his face serious again.

"Nothing taken, nobody hurt. I can tell you that won't be the case if anyone waves a gun in my kid's face again."

"No kidding," Kono muttered.

"Some kind of message for you?" Steve redirected pointedly.

"No," Danny replied, rubbing his palms together with pent-up energy. "So, I take it the witness testified okay?"

"She did great," Chin replied. "And Kono here took out the cleaner with style." Chin was clearly proud.

"Way to go, Rookie."

"Thanks."

"You and I didn't do so badly either, Chin," Steve added.

"Yeah, well," Danny snorted, "if there's a stink-success ratio, you guys deserve medals."

"Think he's trying to tell us something, Steve?"

"I don't know. I could be missing something," Steve rejoined, his tone a bit sharp beneath its playfulness.

"Let me spell it out for you," said Kono. "Go take a shower before the food gets here so we'll actually be able to stomach it."

"That's probably a good idea," Steve conceded. He shot Danny a firm look promising further discussion before grumbling goodnaturedly as he walked towards the showers with Chin.

Kono sat down and accepted the newly opened beer Danny handed her. "So," she started, pausing for a sip, "why aren't you telling Steve the full story? Are you trying to protect him?"

"Protect that guy? You think I'm nuts?"

She smiled. "I know you're not telling him something."

Danny turned away and grabbed a bottle for himself. "You got good instincts, Kono. The trick is, now that you suspect something, A, what is it, and B, what are you going to do about it?"

"A, I don't know, and B, I'm not sure. I think Steve's just worried you're going to go off on your own on us or something and not let him help."

Danny snorted. "He's worried about me playing cowboy? I really hope there's a mirror in those showers." He took a swig. "Unlike our esteemed leader, I always make sure my partners have all the pertinent information when they need it."

Kono wasn't entirely sure what Danny was hiding, but she knew he'd never put anyone else at risk, and he was being truthful about one thing: he wasn't a lone wolf. He'd given her a few reminders (and Steve dozens) about calling for back-up. "It's going to drive McGarrett crazy."

He grinned with a devious twinkle in his eye. "Uh-huh."

"Wait— Really? I didn't know you had it in you."

"To drive Steve nuts?" Danny asked, his pitch higher from incredulity. "Please, it's the only thing that keeps me from getting killed most days. He'd go through with every hairbrained idea that crossed his mind if I didn't drive him nuts."

"Yeah, but by not telling him something? You're either nuts yourself or one smart haole. Let me know when he figures it out."

"Why, so you can duck?"

Kono smirked. "So I can watch."

A few hours later, after Chin and Kono had said their goodbyes and gone home, Danny prepared himself for the interrogation he knew Steve had been itching to get to since he'd hung up on him that afternoon. He started clearing the table to give himself something to do.

"Rachel hasn't called me, so I assume Stan's in one piece," Steve said, trying to sound casual.

"And who said you didn't have detective potential?"

"I seem to recall, who was it again — oh, yeah, you said that." Steve sighed. "So, it's 'taken care of' and Stan is unharmed; are the carjackers down in lock-up?"

"No, they're not," Danny said, turning away and dumping the bottles he'd gathered in a trash can.

Steve hadn't expected that answer at all, and was momentarily at a loss for words. "Wait, I don't get it. Why are you here?"

"You're the one who told me not to do anything stupid," Danny said, aiming his hands in a loose v-like formation at his partner.

"Yeah," Steve said, still suprised, before muttering, "but you actually listened?"

"It won't happen again anytime soon, so you can relax now."

"Oh thank God," Steve groaned. "I thought the world might be ending there for a sec."

"No. I listen to people all the time, even you. If I start agreeing with you, on the other hand—"

"I'll probably die from shock before the end comes anyway."

"You know, Steven," Danny began thoughtfully as Steve took a last sip of beer, "After all you've put me through, I thought we were past that. I think you have some trust issues." Steve guffawed his shock and choked a little on the beer. "Easy now," Danny continued, giving him one or two gentle pats on the back before a much less reassuring—although probably more effective—smack between the shoulder blades.

"Wha—? I have—? Me—? What the—?" Steve sputtered, shaking his head.

"Well now that that's done, I'm going home. Did you drive in today or does Rambo need a ride?"

"I think HPD took my car home from the safehouse."

"That's awfully nice of them." Danny huffed a little. "I'll give you a lift, but this time, Mr. Control Freak, I'm driving my car."

Steve just looked at Danny, shook his head, and started walking to the car. His partner was in fine form. Steve figured it was the stress, and while Danny'd gotten a few good digs in, he wasn't going to push back too hard. After all, the man's daughter could've been killed, and Steve himself was dog tired. If lambasting Steve verbally made the man feel better, he'd take the hit. Maybe once Danny calmed down, he'd actually say what had happened...

Steve didn't even try to broach the subject on the ride home. For such a loquacious person, Danno sure was being tight-lipped. Tired of the silence, Steve turned the radio on.

"Ugh, what station is this?" he complained.

"One that actually has good music," Danny answered. Steve reached for the dial but his hand was smacked away. "Driver picks the station."

"Nuh-uh, shotgun does," Steve answered. "I didn't trek through the jungle all day to listen to Songs of New Jersey on the way home."

"Oh, and you call Sexy Eyes music?" Danny took a sidelong glance at Steve, thought for a moment, and sighed. "Fine, you can pick the station. But someday you're going to give Bon Jovi a chance. I don't think a philistine like you could appreciate Old Blue Eyes just yet."

"Whatever, man," Steve said, closing his eyes and enjoying something less grating than his partner's diatribes.

Thanks for reading, and I hope to post every few days but atleast once a week.

Also, does anyone remember Steve and/or Danny's music preferences? And if they haven't, what sort of music would each listen to (not the same!)? I need a music conflict for an important plot point soon, but am tragically unhip about such things and can't remember if the show has covered it. Any help is much appreciated.