Okay, first foray into the Hawaii Five-0 fandom, with an episode base fanfic.
Season 3, episode 3, "Lana I Ka Moana" (Adrift)... I loved this episode, and wanted to see so much more. There is so much you can do with two men in a leaky boat (sorry, dinghy!), stranded in the middle of the ocean! Seriously!
I shamelessly stuck to the script almost word for word, (because awesome is just awesome, right? Please be patient though...) and used all the great dialog and banter between Steve and Danny, and simply added to it. I took this episode storyline and wrote a 'what if...' version. What if Gil Scates (when he fired his gun on the boat) actually hit one of them, and left them stranded and bleeding in the middle of the ocean? (Yeah, okay, so I'm a huge fan of whump too lol)
To fit in with my version, I changed a couple of things: the Coast Guard rescue boat is bigger than the one in the episode... Whereas the episode seemingly took a day to solve the case, my fic is over 2 (3 if you count the sweet scene at Kamekona's shrimp truck)... I also (along with sticking with the awesome script) used a teeny bit of dialog from a movie because it fit Steve and Danny so, so well.
Usual disclaimer-Though I wish I did, I don't own Danny or Steve, or anything to do with Hawaii Five-0, and this is all just for fun.
On with the fic...
40 miles south of O'ahu...
Danny had to admit, it was the perfect day for deep sea fishing, and for at least this one time he really couldn't find much to complain about the pineapple infested hell-hole that, to the New Jersey native, was Hawaii. Instead of the blistering heat there was a gentle cool breeze keeping the intense rays of the sun at bay, and even soothing waves that rocked the boat in a way that made Danny just want to sit back and relax while he watched his over-achieving partner frowning impatiently at the water, as if the tuna were deliberately not biting just to piss him off.
Running a hand over his hair, Danny rolled his eyes and shook his head. Patience was definitely not one of Steve's better known virtues. Although Danny should have known, when Steve suggested they spend their day off fishing, that being on Chin's uncle's small boat for hours on end in close quarters with a hyperactive Navy SEAL, with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, was going to possibly turn out more stressful than the day before, when they'd chased down gun-wielding perps in the sweltering Hawaiian humidity and got shot at – repeatedly – for their efforts, because Commander You're the backup, Danno McGarrett had refused to wait for the other half of their team.
And come on, would one more measly minute have made such a huge difference? One minute! Just sixty seconds... But nooo. Super SEAL Steve had taken command, all that was missing was the Lycra tights and the cape! Growling a string of expletives as the man had disappeared around a corner in a blur of cargo pants and tac vest, (and thank God the maniac was wearing it!), Danny had grabbed his gun and sprinted after him, vowing that when the day was over he was gonna shoot his insufferable partner too, just for the hell of it.
It might have even been worth the extra paperwork!
The light ocean breeze made his shirt, loosely fastened with only one button, bellow and Danny leaned back, closing his eyes and ignored the frustrated huff three feet away.
At least Steve was with him today and not lying dead in a pool of his own blood because of his act-first-and-think-second-if-I-survive kamikaze stunt when he'd taken down two suspects at once by dive bombing onto them without a second's hesitation, or regard for his own safety.
A shiver ran up Danny's spine despite the warm sun, as the image of Steve disappearing amidst a hail of flying bullets replayed in vivid gory detail in his mind. He remembered the man he'd just cuffed bore the brunt of his heart stopping, paralysing fear, and Danny had actually found himself apologising for snapping on the metal bracelets far too tightly.
Something else that was all Steve's fault; apologising to a criminal?
Danny had never, in all his years as a law enforcement officer, had to do that. Ever!
Steve, the bastard, had had the innocent what the fuck did I do now? thing going big time, and Danny had been seriously, seriously tempted to just shoot that fucking look right off his fucking face.
Paperwork be damned! He would've filed in fucking triplicate!
Chin, the consummate professional, kept his cool and coordinated the HPD while they secured the crime scene and took the perps into custody, (although by the look on Chin's face, Danny knew he was probably staying out of the way while he silently fumed over their crazy, insane boss's latest interpretation of proper police procedure). But Kono had spent the hour Danny had ranted at his partner scowling at him, before Steve finally relented and apologised and promised to remember his wallet for beers that evening. Danny had then made it his personal mission to make sure that was one promise Steve actually kept, by checking and rechecking before they'd finally finished up and headed to the bar.
Steve bought the first three rounds of beer. Kono added tequila to the tab.
Now, not that Danny would ever admit that he was a cheap date, but after a long, strenuous, tiring day, a couple of tequila shots and a few beers and he'd probably have agreed to dye his hair purple and have "Property of a Navy SEAL" tattooed on his right butt cheek if dared to. So saying yes was a given when Steve had suggested the fishing trip to him while they watched Kono hustle some poor tourist schmuck out of fifty bucks on the pool table.
And really, a relaxing day on the ocean on a boat called the Aigle De Mer, with company and beer, did sound good to Danny... It beat sitting at home alone in his crappy apartment, (because Rachel had taken Grace to the Big Island for the weekend), in his underwear, eating yesterday's cold pizza and watching TV.
Glancing at Steve again, who was re-checking their lines for the hundredth time, Danny couldn't help smirking at the ridiculous straw hat tied to the man's head with cord.
"It helps with the glare from the ocean, Danno."
"Hmm...If you say so."
That was Steve's excuse, (and the man had the gall to diss his ties?! Unbelievable!). Even so, Danny had let the subject lie and sat back, carrying on listening to his friend tell him about the times he and his dad visited their secret fishing spot as he piloted the boat expertly across the waves. It wasn't often Steve opened up about his life as a kid, and Danny found himself caught up in Steve's memories and smiling along with him.
But right now, Danny was mere minutes away from dangling Steve over the side and using him as SEAL bait. He twisted his body towards his silent partner fidgeting, yet again, with the fishing reels, noting the impatient frown creasing his brows under the straw rim of that stupid hat and sighed.
"What are you doing? You got something?"
Steve stared out to sea and shook his head. "No. No I don't have anything. I told you if you wanna catch anything today, Danny, we gotta trawl."
"Nonono," Danny immediately objected, hands quickly in motion, the rant naturally following. "No. Trawling is not fishing. That is you just driving around in a boat, just like you driving my car."
"Time out," Steve said, adding, as if it was totally obvious, "I thought the mission today was to get you your first tuna!"
Danny blinked. Mission? "Why does everything have to be a mission?"
"The goal was to help you catch an eye," was the answer.
With his palm up, Danny explained carefully, "There's no goal. There's no mission. We are just fishing. What that means is we relax. Have a couple o'laughs. Maybe we catch a fish, maybe we do not."
Steve watched the animated to and fro of Danny's hand impassively and retorted with, "Alright. But this right here, this is called sitting on a boat and not catching anything. Just so you know."
Shrugging, Danny stood up and headed to the cool box. "Fine. Okay, well that's where the beer comes in," he said pulling out two Longboards and twisting off the caps. "...Few laughs, pretend we're friends. Right? That's all." He handed a bottle to Steve and they knocked them together in a toast. "Salud."
A moment went by as they drank, and Danny just started to wonder if he should top up his high factor sun cream when Steve asked, "Right, what now?"
"What now?" Danny repeated. Jesus, it was like pulling teeth. "We talk. Y'know? Shoot the breeze."
Alright, so the man was going to make Danny work. Okay, he was fine with that. Danny could hold a one sided conversation with a lamp post if he wanted to. He settled with a subject he was curious about, hoping Steve would spill... "Ah, any word on your mother?"
"No, she's still on the island somewhere," he answered easily, drinking the beer, his keen eyes on the fishing lines.
Danny's curiosity tingled. "Doing what?"
"I dunno," Steve said and then admitted, "I got lines out."
Oh yeah? "S'one of those lines Catherine?" Danny asked, his eyes narrowing when Steve hesitated.
Oh, that was classic. Danny chuckled, "Ah that's good. Your girlfriend checking up on your mother. That... that should turn out very well."
Throwing a defensive look at Danny, Steve quickly corrected, "Right, first of all, she's not my girlfriend. Second of all, she's not checking on my mother, she's using her contacts in Navy intel to locate my mother, okay? Nobody's gonna know."
"Oh. No, nonono..." Danny contradicted, his index finger emphasizing his point, "Ah, your mother is a spy and a woman, she will know, trust me."
Steve pulled a face and quickly conceded. "That's a good point."
And what the hell did Steve mean, Catherine was not his girlfriend? Did the man even know the definition of the term? "Let me ask you another question. What is it with Navy SEALs? They're not allowed to have girlfriends?"
"What are you talking about?"
Danny ignored him, waving his Longboard in his direction instead. "I mean how would you characterise your relationship?"
"Well we, I mean... she's..." Steve stuttered, trying to find the words, "We, we have a thing."
Danny seriously needed to buy Steve a dictionary, maybe one with pictures. "A thing, you have a thing," he agreed, arms sweeping wide because a thing was so general a term.
"Yeah, that," Steve nodded.
"It's called a girlfriend. Who, by the way, you're asking to spy on your mother," Danny pointed out again.
"Not spy! Locate, Danny." Right, whatever! "Spy. Locate. They're different," Steve insisted.
"Okay." Backing down at the frustrated frown on Steve's face, Danny asked, "Do you have any idea where she's at?"
"No idea at all. I'm doing everything I can to find her, but my mother was a highly trained spy for twenty years and she managed to stay hidden that whole time, so she's not gonna make it easy for us." He sighed and tipped his bottle back, swallowing another mouthful of beer, and stared at the ocean.
"What about your sister?" In for a penny, in for a pound... and so far, Steve seemed to be okay talking about it.
"Well... I mean, I haven't told her. What am I gonna say? I haven't told her yet," he admitted. Danny was surprised at that, and actually didn't envy Steve the task of telling Mary-Ann that her mother, who had died when she was young, wasn't actually dead at all, and was a spy.
"Wow. That should be an interesting conversation."
They shared a look, but then Danny's fishing reel span, startling them into action.
"Oh, oh, okay!" Danny cried, grinning, grabbing his pole. Steve waved his arms urging Danny into the fishing chair that was secured to the deck.
"Set the hook! Set the hook, Danny, jam it!"
"Alright, set," Danny answered, hands busy reeling in his catch. Steve, however, had suddenly turned into an excitable five year old bouncing behind him making the small boat rock even more in the waves.
"Okay, set the hook, set it!"
Oh my god! "I'm setting it, I'm setting it!" Danny repeated still reeling in the line.
"Set the hook! Release the drag a little bit!"
"Alright! Would you stop with the back seat fishing?"
But Steve wasn't listening. "Okay, just keep the pressure on," he instructed loudly.
"Stop! Can I have something of my own?" It was no good though. Steve was caught in the moment, so Danny decided to just go with the flow. "Get the gaff!"
"Keep the pressure on it!"
"Just get the gaff!"
"All right, good job," Steve nodded and grabbed the gaff.
Danny alternately pulled at the rod and reeled in the line until he could see his prize splashing near the surface of the water. "I got it!"
"I see colour, I see colour, Danny! It's a tuna, buddy," Steve shouted, slapping Danny on the shoulder.
"Hey tuny! It's a tuny! It's a tuny fish, you son of a tuny fish!"
"A tuna, Danny. Yeah!" And between them they hooked and landed the fish.
Adrenalin still pumping and with grins stretching their cheeks, both Steve and Danny looked down at the fish on the deck and laughed. The damned thing was nearly as big as the ex-New Jersey detective! They toasted the tuna and finished their beers.
"Oh, here, take my cell," Danny said reaching for the tuna. "I wanna send Grace a picture of the huge fish her Danno caught!"
Smiling, Steve grabbed the cell phone and held it up, snapping images of Danny and his tuny fish.
Adjusting his hold of the tail, Danny nodded, "Alright, go ahead, take another one."
"You gotta smile," Steve said.
"I'm not gonna smile, it's not very manly. C'mon..." Damn, the thing was heavy.
"I know a guy who stuffs and mounts these," Steve announced as he clicked off the camera function. Danny considered the offer, for all of two seconds.
"You know, I don't think I'm a dead fish on the wall kinda guy," he decided. "S'gonna be dinner. I'm gonna have Kamekona cook us up a feast. It's gonna be great."
Steve shrugged as Danny put the tuna in the ice box, his eyes catching the glare of a small boat in the horizon of the ocean.
"What?" Danny automatically asked.
"Look at that," Steve said handing Danny's cell phone back to him and reaching for the binoculars.
"It's a boat."
"A boat. On the ocean! Go figure!" Danny fired back; he couldn't help it!
Peering through the binoculars, Steve frowned, "It's a guy in a dinghy. Looks like he's in trouble." Firing up the Aigle De Mer's engines, he added, "Alright, we're gonna go take a look."
Danny quickly pocketed his phone and hung on as the boat bounced over the waves at what felt like Mach three, wondering once again about his insane partner and his need to drive other people's cars, and now boats really fast. "Isn't it a little far out to be in a tiny dinghy?" he mused loudly over the roar of the engines, already thinking about the many scenarios that could have ended with the man stuck helplessly in the middle of the ocean.
Rip tides, deadly undercurrents, mini tsunamis, capsized boats...
Any or all of the above.
Steve nodded, "Yeah. Definitely must be in trouble this far out, man."
They pulled up, rocking in the waves alongside the dinghy, Steve quickly cutting the engine.
"Hey buddy, you okay?" he asked.
The man in the dinghy looked up in relief. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys!"
Danny leaned over the side peering into the small craft. "What happened?"
"Ran out of gas," the man answered sitting back on his haunches.
Nodding, Danny picked up a rope, "Here, we'll give you a ride, alright?"
"That would be awesome."
"Grab that," Danny said tossing a rope over. The man caught it and allowed them to pull him closer to the boat. Danny helped him climb aboard. "Alright?"
"Uh huh," he mumbled. Danny's eyes caught the noticeable dried rust coloured stain on the man's shirt and frowned.
"You got blood on you," he pointed out. "What happened buddy, d'you cut yourself?"
Looking anywhere but his rescuers, the man fingered his bloody shirt and muttered quickly, "Yeah, yeah... Ah tryin' to fix the motor."
Steve stared down at the vessel now roped to their boat, noticing the small motor that was nowhere near adequate for ocean use alone. "Tiny little dinghy like that is not exactly designed for open water like this," he said, looking back at the man before asking, "What were you doing out this far?"
Before either Steve or Danny could even realise that something wasn't quite right, the man reached behind himself and pulled out a gun from the back of his shorts, aiming it right at the Lt. Commander's head. Shocked at the sudden turn of events, Steve stepped back a fraction and looked hard at the man.
"I need to borrow your boat." Like Danny and Steve had a choice in the matter!
"Hey, hey, hey, listen to me. You don't wanna do this, trust me," Danny said, hands coming quickly up in a defensive gesture when the gun was suddenly aimed it at him instead.
Angry and desperation lacing his voice, the man repeated, "I said I need to borrow your boat! I am not gonna ask twice!"
Taking advantage of the small window of distraction, Steve kicked in his Navy SEAL training and tried to disarm the man by going for the gun, but he wasn't fast enough. Danny watched in horror, his heart hammering in his throat, as his partner almost got himself killed by a crazed madman, blinking wildly and sucking in a sharp breath when a gunshot echoed loudly around them. His wide eyes automatically searched for a smoking, bleeding hole on Steve's person, and it wasn't until he saw the stricken, panicked look on his friend's face that the pain, white hot and searing, registered in his left shoulder.
"Danny! Oh God..."
Be patient, it is not all just a written down version of the episode. I promise...We're just getting going :)