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Title: Till Death
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: This was supposed to be written for a prompt given by [livejournal.com profile] green_wing for a charity auction. After discussing what she wanted she decided that I wouldn't be able to give her what she wants. I liked the idea so I decided to continue writing it, with her permission. Hold mouse over highlighted text for translation.
Sequel/Series: None
Summary: Steve and Danny go undercover as a married couple.


Danny's POV:

It's been a relatively quiet day for which I will be eternally grateful, we've had too many days lately where all we do is run around and get shot at. So when we have a day where the most exciting thing to happen is someone getting a paper cut, we all rejoice a bit.

Most people think that police work is exactly like what they see on TV and while it is, sometimes, for the most part it's actually kinda boring. Regular police work is mostly about filling out reports and forms and checking leads, which more often than not don't pan out.

And that's what my life used to be like. Before one Steven J. McGarrett entered it.

Now that I'm his partner on the Governor's State Police Task Force, dubbed Five-oh by McGarrett, my life is full of foot chases, car chases and getting shot at by crazed psychos. Most of my paperwork is now done at home after the end of the day, especially on Grace's weekends. Except for when we have one of these rare days of downtime.

Not that Steve is doing what he's supposed to. The man can make a prepubescent boy avoiding his homework look like an overachiever. He's mastered the art of delegating and it's starting to get sad, the way he talks Kono into doing his reports. I suppose I should tell her how to convince Steve that he should do his own, and make him think it was his idea, too, but what would be the fun in that? Chin and I are taking bets on how long it'll take before she gives up on trying to word the reports so that they sound like Steve, if only to see if anyone actually reads them.

A shuffling sound interrupts my concentration and I look up to see Steve standing awkwardly in the door to my office. The sight is quite surprising since I can't recall ever seeing him look this way before.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, uh," he hedges.

Tilting my head to the side, I study his body language and try to figure out what's bothering him. "What is it, Steve?"

He clears his throat and steps inside before closing the door. "There's…" He swallows loudly. "There's a case."

"Yeah?" He nods. "And this makes you uncomfortable?" He nods again, and I finally notice he hasn't met my eyes once this entire conversation. "Steve?" He flicks his eyes upward but then just as quickly lowers them again. "You're scaring me, here."

That seems to get through to him. While he still doesn't meet my eyes, he does stop talking to the floor. "This is going to require undercover work. Chin doesn't fit and Kono's the wrong gender."

I lean back in my chair. "Steven?" He meets my eyes for all of two seconds. "You gotta start the thought at the beginning, Babe. I can't read your mind. And may I say that I don't want to?"

He huffs out a breath and takes two steps closer to my desk. "We got a lead on the drug dealer we been chasing."

"Good. So…?"

He pushes up on the underside of his holster, as if it's in danger of pulling his pants off. I've come to realize it's a nervous tick. "He'll be at a marriage encounter weekend. At the Royal Hawaiian."

"Okay. Still not following you here, Babe."

He rolls his neck in frustration. "Don't make me say it, please."

And that's when it dawns on me just what it is he's asking. And I'm just bored enough to be obtuse about this. "Not sure what you're talking about, McGarrett."

"Danny…" His voice takes on a pleading note I've never heard before. It's almost enough to get me to end the charade. But not quite.

"Steve…"

He growls low in his throat. "Fine. Will you be my pretend husband?"

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I swear to God, Danny…" He takes a couple more steps toward my desk, his anger showing clearly on his face. I can't control it any longer and burst out laughing. He blinks at me a few times. "It's not funny."

"Oh, God," I gasp, clutching my midsection as I double over in my chair, tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard. "You should see your face, Steve. Priceless!"

"What…? You…! When!?"

Finally my guffaws die down to the occasional chuckle and I wipe the tears from my face. "About the time you begged me to not make you say the actual words."

"You're an ass, you know that?"

I lean my head back against my chair. "What can I say? I'm bored."

"So, will you, Danny?" He obviously decides to get back to the point of his visit to my office.

"If it's a marriage encounter weekend, why is Kono the wrong gender?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know the answer. Luckily Steve doesn't decide to take his revenge at this time and just merely raises one eyebrow. "Right. Makaha Palakiko is gay. How could I forget that juicy bit of information?" I try and keep my voice neutral because I really couldn't care less who the man fucks but can tell I'm not successful from the frown marring Steve's forehead. Before he can launch into a lecture on how it's none of our business who someone sleeps with, I get back to the main point: the fact that I'm going to be going undercover as my boss' husband. "When is this 'marriage encounter' weekend?" I put the quote marks around it because same sex marriage isn't exactly legal, yet.

"Yeah, that's the other thing…" He rubs one hand along the back of his neck which is another signal that I'm not going to like what he's about to say.

"No! No, no, no. Not this – I have Grace this weekend! I didn't get her last time because I had the flu and Rachel, and I, didn't want her getting sick. You cannot do this to me, Steven!"

"I'm sorry?" He has his shoulders hunched where he's standing as if he expects me to get up and punch him. It would serve him right if I did. "This is the best time to do this. He won't be expecting it. I'll call Rachel. If you want."

"That would just make it worse, so, thanks, but no." I sigh deeply and scrub my face with my hands. "I'll take care of it. Saturday and Sunday, right?"

He shakes his head. Why am I not surprised? "We'll need Friday, too."

I close my eyes in resignation and miss Steve leaving my office. "At least it's Monday," I mutter to myself. If – if – I can get Rachel to agree to it, I can have four afternoons with Grace. My eyes snap open as an even better thought occurs to me. With a small smile I reach for my phone and press the speed dial number for Rachel.

"Hello?" Rachel surprises me by actually answering.

"Rachel," I pause to clear my throat and gather my thoughts.

Before I can even get into the reason for my call, Rachel jumps to conclusions, never mind that they're the correct ones. "You can't take her this weekend, can you, Daniel?"

I never hated my name until I heard her say it in that tone. "Just listen to me, please."

"I don't need to. Something came up, I suppose?"

"It's not like that, Rachel."

"It never is, Daniel."

"That's not fair! This is my job. I don't have a choice."

"Of course not. You never do."

"Rachel," I growl, then force myself to stop, take a breath and remember this is the mother of my child. "We've just had a major break in a case we've been working for months."

"And of course that means it's going to carry over to the weekend when this is Monday. Is that right?"

"Actually, we can't act on this new lead until this weekend."

"So what am I supposed to tell Grace, hm? Am I supposed to come up with some lie as to why her father cannot spend time with her?"

"That's why I'm calling, Rachel. I'd like to have her this week. I can get her to and from school today through Friday morning. You'll just need to get her Friday afternoon. Please, Rachel? I haven't seen her for more than a few hours in nearly a month."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Oh, don't even! You knew I was a cop when you married me. I moved five thousand miles so that I could see her more than a few times a year."

"And until recently you've done very well about seeing her every week."

"That is not my fault and you know it. You've meet Steve. You know how he can be. And working on this task force means I have more responsibilities, less time off." I snort at my comment. "Hell, I have no time off. Steve is usually very good at making sure we don't catch a call on my weekends with Grace but this one cannot be helped."

"I'm not sure about her staying at your place and then going to school."

"Why not?"

"I just don't feel she gets a decent night's sleep at your place."

"I see." I rub the heel of one hand against my eye until I see stars. "I could always check us into a hotel for the week." I'll hate spending the cash on that, but if it means I get Grace for four nights instead of the usual two, I'll cut something out next month.

"Very well. Just so long as it's not the one with the dolphins. She doesn't need the distraction."

"Thank you, Rachel." I breathe a sigh of relief.

"You have enough clothes for the week?"

"Uh…" I have to actually stop and think about the contents of Grace's drawer. "I have at least one uniform, a couple pairs of panties, a pair of jeans and maybe a couple of tee shirts. I can always buy her more." I mentally wince at the added expense.

"No need. I'm heading into town later; I can drop off a bag at the office."

"That would be appreciated. Thanks, Rachel."

"Hm," she hums and hangs up. Well, that went better than expected.

Steve continues to hover outside my office for most of the day; leaving only when necessary. I punish him by thoroughly ignoring him. Until I can't anymore.

Steve enters my office and sits down in one of the chairs in front of my desk. "I'm getting ready to leave, Steven. I don't have time for your attempts to ruin my life."

"Why are you leaving early?"

"Since you've decided I shouldn't see my daughter this weekend like I'm supposed to, I've convinced Rachel to let me have her all this week on two conditions: I get her to and from school every day and I check us into a hotel for the next four nights."

"Don't do that."

I look up from where I'm clearing papers off my desk. "Don't do what? Clear my desk? Compromise with Rachel? What?"

"Don't stay at a hotel."

I just stare at him. "You don't get to tell me what to do in my personal life."

He wrinkles his brow for a moment then makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "Not how I meant it. This is my fault so I'd like to offer you and Grace the use of my spare rooms."

I can't help but laugh at that. "If Rachel has issues with Grace staying at my place she's really gonna have issues with her staying at yours. She calls you Commander Trouble Magnet."

He looks chagrined at that; his lips thinning and his gaze sliding off to his right. "But still." He shifts in his seat, pushing on the material covering his thighs. "You said it: it's my fault you have to miss your weekend with Grace. It's the least I can do."

"No, the least you can do is keep your nosy nose outta my life." I shut off my computer, then stand from my chair. "I'll cut something next month so I can take Grace to a nice hotel because this weekend I'll be at an even nicer one on the Big Island pretending to be your husband." I shake my head. How did my life get so fucked up?

"D, please. Let me do this." He stands and blocks my way when I go to exit my office.

"I have to get Grace from school, Steven."

"I insist you stay at my place. I'll go to a hotel if that'll make Rachel feel better."

"You're not going to let me go until I agree, are you?"

She shakes his head, a stupid ass grin stretching his cheeks. "Nope." He rocks back on his heels. "Might as well say yes."

My shoulders slump as I close my eyes, knowing there's no help for it. "I pay for all food that goes into Grace's mouth. Am I clear?"

I can tell he wants to object, the man has some serious control issues, but he nods his head. "Yeah, okay. Anything you want, Danno."

I roll my eyes because I know he doesn't really mean that. "And you are not allowed to spoil her. Not even a little bit. Am I understood?"

He sighs. "Whatever you say, Danny. Your kid, your rules."

The easE with which he gives in has me narrowing my eyes at his face. "I've got my eye on you." He nods, his face expressing his supposed innocence. I roll my eyes and step around him, headed for the parking lot. "I hate you so very much, right now."

"You kiss Gracie with that lying mouth? You know you love me."

Tilting my head back I stare up at the cloudless blue sky. God help me but I do. "Yeah, but only 'cause I'm crazy."

"Oh, you should go get me a ring or something."

I spin to face the man who is going to be the death of me one of these days. "Why are you following me?"

"You're leaving for the day, right?" Instead of answering, I settle my weight on my heels and cross my arms over my chest. "You're my ride. Remember?" He waves one arm in the direction of the empty space next to the Camaro where his truck usually is.

I had totally forgotten that I picked him up this morning because his truck is in the shop. I slap one palm across my face. "You are not to tell Grace what we're really going to be doing this weekend. Understand?"

"Sure, Danno." He nods, his hands tucked into his pockets. "What should I tell her?"

"That we're going to The Big Island for a case. It's the truth and she doesn't need to know any more than that."

"Got it."

I nod, knowing this is going to blow up in my face spectacularly. "Get in." I motion to the passenger side of the car as I slide behind the wheel. He frowns at me but does as told.

Grace is over the moon at being allowed to stay at Steve's for the week but it's tempered with the knowledge that it's a trade-off for our weekend. But it does give us more time together so I can't fault her for being excited.

A trip to the grocery store just confirms what I already knew about my partner: he's just a little kid trapped in an adult's body. While he doesn't try to get every sugary thing ever made (that's Grace's job), he does turn his nose up at most of what I put in the basket. I just remind him that I'm paying for food for my child, not him. This makes him pout but I don't let it sway me. If he wants something specific for dinner, he can damn well buy it himself.

The week goes as smoothly as anything in my life does since meeting Steve. The only bright spot (other than me saving some cash) is that Grace only has one meltdown late Thursday night when she realizes she has to bring cupcakes to school the next day. And not just any old cupcakes that my mother would have made. No, these have to be organic, gluten and nut free and twenty other kinds of healthy.

I have no clue where to even start but Steve, ever the hero, jumps right in by going to the store and getting the ingredients and staying up with me to help make them.
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