5.17 - Keeping the Cover

[haole_cop]

The thing is, Steve's not a cop.

They're years into this partnership, and Five-0 has done a lot of good work, but Steve is still, demonstrably, not a cop, and he never has been. He's a SEAL with a badge, a sailor working with detectives, and it works for them. It's not orthodox, it's not by the book, but it works, and they get results.

They've even been on plenty of stake-outs before, him and Steve (or Steve and Chin, or Steve and Kono -- even, once or twice, Steve and Lou), and, normally, they've got it down pretty pat, because normally, they're sitting in the car (or his ex-wife's house), and they don't expect to be there that long, They've never needed a cover, because the thing about Steve -- not being a cop, and all --

Things tend to move pretty damn fast. One might say, explosively so.

So this is a new one, for them, and he knew it would be dicey going in: knew Steve would hate sitting around doing nothing but watching, knew that session with the therapist would be eating at him (both of them, if Danny's honest, but why start that now, after so many years of willful, blissful ignorance?). If he'd thought about it, he'd have known Steve wouldn't be much for keeping any kind of cover, either. Steve likes things straightforward and simple: he takes the straightest line through, even when it means knocking down walls and ruining plans.

Except this plan really can't be ruined, and when that old bat says those words and Steve turns to glance at him, disbelieving, Danny knows, he just knows, that Steve would rather through their whole cover out the window, rather than just roll with it, because Steve is not a cop.

But Danny is.

"Good to know," he says, smoothly, just as Steve's turning back and opening his mouth, no doubt to say something like we're not gay, we're on a stakeout, because Steve is a moron.

Stepping forward, with his hand going -- like it does, right, this is nothing new or different or even weird, for them, and maybe he should stop to think why that is, but frankly, he can't right now, without blowing the same damn cover he just saved -- to the small of Steve's back, and resting there, familiar. "That last place was pretty close-minded."

Turning, just enough, to glance up at Steve with a you'd-better-follow-my-lead flicker of a smile. "Right, babe?"

Comments

[thebesteverseen]

The hand on his back is about as unsurprising as it is surprising, his mouth already open as Danny, who he has to turn his head to look at from the touch, is bulling his way forward, with that affable, but not too affable smile, into responding first. While saying that. Which makes Steve stare at the side of his head and then his pressed-on, even more pointed smile, when he looks at Steve, longer than Danny probably wants him to.

Which he knows. But he doesn't get why Danny chose to do it. It would have been just as easy to tell her the truth and send her away. Harmless, dottering, old woman. Lies and covers only got more elaborate and important to remember, neither of which they were even supposed to be here long enough to need to worry about. This wasn't even going to take a full day if they got lucky.

But now there's an apartment full of equipment. A cat he can't trust Danny near with a gun. A bag of weed the length of his arm on the other side of the kitchen island wall. And Danny being.......Danny. Like somebody's auntie needs a better story than the truth. Like she wouldn't just stay out of their hair, and go away faster, if they just explained why she can't be here and no one else should be told about them to bother them. Because they're Five-0. Which means everything is classified and supremely important.

While Danny instead has moved from telling her that he's the tenant's nephew, to that he and Steve are together. Together-together. With that laugh, that actually isn't entirely fake because the edges of his eyes and his mouth are crinkled. Sliding in by his side. Putting his hand on Steve's back, in a way that isn't close enough to not be obvious, and running with it like someone just threw him a pass. Blatant and nearly annoyed at the unnecessary nature of the choice.

"Seriously?"