See You Driving 'Round Town, PG, Steve/Danny Preslash
Title: See You Driving 'Round Town
Paring/s: Steve/Danny preslash
Genre: Crack
Rating: PG for swearing.
Word count: 1667
Warnings/Spoilers: NOT BETA'D AND I'M TIRED. BUT YOU HAD TO SEE.
Summary: Of course Steve fucking McGarrett would greet the idea of their (no, Danny’s) car turning into a robot with the widest grin imaginable.
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Of course Steve fucking McGarrett would greet the idea of their (no, Danny’s) car turning into a robot with the widest grin imaginable. Danny wonders why the hell Steve isn’t currently locked up in a mental hospital - or that’s what he would be wondering if it weren’t for the fact he was hiding from the giant metal contraption that used to be his car. The one that is now trampling around the stage that had been set for the third epic gunfight of this week with apparently barely contained glee.
It was fucking bizarre.
He’d sort of been minding his own business in that he was attempting not to be seriously maimed as seemed to be Steve’s choice of afternoon activity but apparently Danny hadn’t been quite quick enough to cover all bases. Hiding behind a warehouse container, Danny was watching his right when really he should have been watching his left - you know, for the guy sporting the AK-47 aimed in the general vicinity of his torso.
The guy got the shot off, but found the bullet’s trajectory blocked by the sudden materialisation of twenty feet of fucking robot that proceeded to fling said armed assailant around the room like a tiny ragdoll before deciding to go on a rampage.
Danny wonders if he hit his head yesterday harder than he thought, when Steve’s brilliant idea of jumping out windows when being shot at had landed Danny a hit right to the back of the skull.
“Danno!” The yell sounds in the cacophony of shouts and screams that are exploding in a sheer clusterfuck of noise, and the sheer delight in Steve’s voice makes Danny damn certain that this isn’t exactly a dream and he barely manages to stifle a groan. Great.
“Get your ass over here, McGarrett,” he shouts back, refusing to move from where he’d run to (the other side of the warehouse container, it wasn’t one of his brightest moves, he’ll concede) in an attempt to escape. Not that he’s scared he’s just being tactical, as Steve would like to put it.
“Duck!” Steve bellows, and Danny’s knees buckle automatically before his brain has time to catch up with the sting of command in Steve’s voice. There’s no ignoring that steel, even despite Danny’s sheer unwillingness to follow anything that isn’t a rulebook. There’s a shriek of terror as another assailant goes flying overhead and Danny has half a moment to admire it before Steve practically catapults himself over the container and drops down beside Danny - and he looks like he hasn’t even broken a sweat.
Sometimes Danny really hates having Steve for a partner.
“You’re actually enjoying this aren’t you?” Danny asks acidly, and the mock-innocent look he gets in return confirms that he actually, well and truly is the partner of a psychopath. “My car just turned into a murderous beast and you’re just acting like it’s the best birthday present you could expect! You’re looking at that thing like it’s your new BFF and you’d love nothing more than to share a few beers with it over some roasting madmen and-“
“Danny-“
“No, you don’t get to talk. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a freakin’ metallic machine, Steven, and currently it doesn’t look like it wants to do anything but rip everyone, and everyone in this case happens to include both you and me, limb from limb. But no, you clearly have to find this somehow entertaining like you aren’t already shaving years off my life, I swear I’m going prematurely gray from the sheer amount of assfuckery I am subjected to thanks to you.”
“Are you done?” Steve’s look is pointed.
“No. I am not done and when it comes to you and this whole mess I’m pretty sure I’ll never be done.”
“Danno, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hurt us.”
“And how would you know? Are you suddenly an expert in automatons? Can you understand their language and decode binary? Is that your special fucking talent? Because of all the things I expected, like killing a man with a paperclip because you clearly think you’re MacGyver, I have got to tell you that this is most pathetic thing I have ever heard of.”
“No, I can’t speak robot, but he’s kind of been staring at us for the last three minutes because I think he’s expecting you to notice his existence.” Steve’s voice is almost strangely smug in the silence that befalls Danny’s ears.
Okay, well it’s not complete silence - there’s still faint groaning coming from somewhere, and the creak of metal and Danny really doesn’t want to look up. But god help him, he does, and meets the two shining lamps staring back at him that would remind him of eyes if he turned his head sideways and squinted.
“Oh god I’ve got a Transformer for a car.” And that’s when he starts to hyperventilate.
“Danny,” Steve’s voice is soothing, a hand rubbing circles along his back strong and sure, and the whole scene would be weirdly intimate, but rather nice, if it weren’t for the fact that his car is literally looming over the both of them and watching them like they’re fascinating insects, “Danny, Danno, it’s alright. He’s clearly on our side.”
Danny takes a breath, then another, then a third for absolute good measure before he looks back up the robot - his car, goddamnit - and narrows his eyes.
“On our side? Do robots even have sides or have you actually cracked and gone insane in the five minutes I wasn’t looking at you?”
“Well, he’s kind of just sitting there. Pretty sure it’s a good indication he’s not going to attack.”
“No? Maybe he’s forming up some kind of battle plan -“
“And you think I’m crazy,” Steve mutters under his breath.
“- just waiting for the moment to tear us apart. And I heard that!”
“He spent five minutes throwing the bad guys around like juggling balls - in fact I’m sure he was juggling them at one point - Jesus Christ Danny, he took a goddamn bullet for you!”
“He’s a robot!” Danny’s shouting again and this time it’s not really making him feel any better, in fact thinking about it is making him feel more hysterical by the second. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t even notice it!” Maybe Danny can chalk this whole thing up to a bad nightmare. “This whole thing is absurd, even for you McGarrett, and we’re going to have a long talk about what the hell you have been slipping in my coffee that is clearly making me have hallucinations!”
“Danny -“ Steve tries for a second time, but Danny is finished. He shrugs off Steve’s hand and stands up, pointing a finger in what must be the robot’s face and feels satisfaction when the robot does an almost millimeter recoil.
“You,” he says to the robot with exaggerated slowness, “I don’t know where you came from, but get the fuck out of here. And I would like my car back, preferably in one piece if it’s all the same to you.”
There’s a protesting groan of metal and the lamp-eyes downcast toward the floor and for fucks sake, even the robot has to have a puppy dog look to rival Steve’s. Danny’s life is seriously unfair.
“Don’t you dare give me that look, even if you are a figment of my imagination. Get me my car back now.” And he turns his best glare on the robot, which creaks again, and if Danny didn’t know better he’d say it almost looked a little shame-faced. But it doesn’t last long as the screech of metal against metal becomes apparent and there’s mere seconds before the Camaro is standing in almost petulant silence before them.
“Danny, I think you hurt its feelings.”
“I don’t care, my life has been nothing but one wacky situation after another with you, but I’ve had enough and if there’s one thing I can control it should be my damn car. And sometimes I don’t even have that luxury because you’re the one driving it.” Danny says sourly and opens the car door, sliding into passenger seat of his own volition despite his protests to the contrary.
Steve sort of had the half-smile, half-smirk on his face and Danny thinks he’s totally missing the point before it becomes a full-fledged grin.
“Are you sitting in the passenger seat because you’re afraid your own car won’t listen to you now you’ve insulted it?” Steve asks, and Danny still wishes he had his cane to deliver a beating with.
“No.” And that might not be entirely true but Steve lets it slide, even if he’s still grinning like the Joker as he moves into the seat more gracefully than Danny could ever hope for before sliding the key into the ignition.
The car starts easily, engine purring under Steve’s hands and Danny rolls his eyes. Even his car has a fucking crush on his partner, and if that isn’t just one more thing to compete with.
Steve’s hand lands on his thigh, lingering just a second too long a Steve’s gaze sweeps a line up Danny’s torso to Danny’s face.
“You alright?” There’s no joking in that tone, and Danny feel a wry smile of affection pulling at his face.
“No. But it’s nothing a couple of beers won’t fix. And you’re paying.”
“Yeah, I thought that might be it,” Steve just huffs out a short laugh in response, before peeling out of the warehouse, tires squealing and the smell of burnt rubber lingering long after their gone.
Danny decides not to mention that the car plays nothing but Steve’s kind of terrible music the whole ride back.
Not only does he have a car that seems to turn itself into a robot, it’s also apparently a moody teenager focused on making his life hell by favoring the other parent.
Sometime’s Danny really does hate his life.
Paring/s: Steve/Danny preslash
Genre: Crack
Rating: PG for swearing.
Word count: 1667
Warnings/Spoilers: NOT BETA'D AND I'M TIRED. BUT YOU HAD TO SEE.
Summary: Of course Steve fucking McGarrett would greet the idea of their (no, Danny’s) car turning into a robot with the widest grin imaginable.
---
Of course Steve fucking McGarrett would greet the idea of their (no, Danny’s) car turning into a robot with the widest grin imaginable. Danny wonders why the hell Steve isn’t currently locked up in a mental hospital - or that’s what he would be wondering if it weren’t for the fact he was hiding from the giant metal contraption that used to be his car. The one that is now trampling around the stage that had been set for the third epic gunfight of this week with apparently barely contained glee.
It was fucking bizarre.
He’d sort of been minding his own business in that he was attempting not to be seriously maimed as seemed to be Steve’s choice of afternoon activity but apparently Danny hadn’t been quite quick enough to cover all bases. Hiding behind a warehouse container, Danny was watching his right when really he should have been watching his left - you know, for the guy sporting the AK-47 aimed in the general vicinity of his torso.
The guy got the shot off, but found the bullet’s trajectory blocked by the sudden materialisation of twenty feet of fucking robot that proceeded to fling said armed assailant around the room like a tiny ragdoll before deciding to go on a rampage.
Danny wonders if he hit his head yesterday harder than he thought, when Steve’s brilliant idea of jumping out windows when being shot at had landed Danny a hit right to the back of the skull.
“Danno!” The yell sounds in the cacophony of shouts and screams that are exploding in a sheer clusterfuck of noise, and the sheer delight in Steve’s voice makes Danny damn certain that this isn’t exactly a dream and he barely manages to stifle a groan. Great.
“Get your ass over here, McGarrett,” he shouts back, refusing to move from where he’d run to (the other side of the warehouse container, it wasn’t one of his brightest moves, he’ll concede) in an attempt to escape. Not that he’s scared he’s just being tactical, as Steve would like to put it.
“Duck!” Steve bellows, and Danny’s knees buckle automatically before his brain has time to catch up with the sting of command in Steve’s voice. There’s no ignoring that steel, even despite Danny’s sheer unwillingness to follow anything that isn’t a rulebook. There’s a shriek of terror as another assailant goes flying overhead and Danny has half a moment to admire it before Steve practically catapults himself over the container and drops down beside Danny - and he looks like he hasn’t even broken a sweat.
Sometimes Danny really hates having Steve for a partner.
“You’re actually enjoying this aren’t you?” Danny asks acidly, and the mock-innocent look he gets in return confirms that he actually, well and truly is the partner of a psychopath. “My car just turned into a murderous beast and you’re just acting like it’s the best birthday present you could expect! You’re looking at that thing like it’s your new BFF and you’d love nothing more than to share a few beers with it over some roasting madmen and-“
“Danny-“
“No, you don’t get to talk. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a freakin’ metallic machine, Steven, and currently it doesn’t look like it wants to do anything but rip everyone, and everyone in this case happens to include both you and me, limb from limb. But no, you clearly have to find this somehow entertaining like you aren’t already shaving years off my life, I swear I’m going prematurely gray from the sheer amount of assfuckery I am subjected to thanks to you.”
“Are you done?” Steve’s look is pointed.
“No. I am not done and when it comes to you and this whole mess I’m pretty sure I’ll never be done.”
“Danno, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hurt us.”
“And how would you know? Are you suddenly an expert in automatons? Can you understand their language and decode binary? Is that your special fucking talent? Because of all the things I expected, like killing a man with a paperclip because you clearly think you’re MacGyver, I have got to tell you that this is most pathetic thing I have ever heard of.”
“No, I can’t speak robot, but he’s kind of been staring at us for the last three minutes because I think he’s expecting you to notice his existence.” Steve’s voice is almost strangely smug in the silence that befalls Danny’s ears.
Okay, well it’s not complete silence - there’s still faint groaning coming from somewhere, and the creak of metal and Danny really doesn’t want to look up. But god help him, he does, and meets the two shining lamps staring back at him that would remind him of eyes if he turned his head sideways and squinted.
“Oh god I’ve got a Transformer for a car.” And that’s when he starts to hyperventilate.
“Danny,” Steve’s voice is soothing, a hand rubbing circles along his back strong and sure, and the whole scene would be weirdly intimate, but rather nice, if it weren’t for the fact that his car is literally looming over the both of them and watching them like they’re fascinating insects, “Danny, Danno, it’s alright. He’s clearly on our side.”
Danny takes a breath, then another, then a third for absolute good measure before he looks back up the robot - his car, goddamnit - and narrows his eyes.
“On our side? Do robots even have sides or have you actually cracked and gone insane in the five minutes I wasn’t looking at you?”
“Well, he’s kind of just sitting there. Pretty sure it’s a good indication he’s not going to attack.”
“No? Maybe he’s forming up some kind of battle plan -“
“And you think I’m crazy,” Steve mutters under his breath.
“- just waiting for the moment to tear us apart. And I heard that!”
“He spent five minutes throwing the bad guys around like juggling balls - in fact I’m sure he was juggling them at one point - Jesus Christ Danny, he took a goddamn bullet for you!”
“He’s a robot!” Danny’s shouting again and this time it’s not really making him feel any better, in fact thinking about it is making him feel more hysterical by the second. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t even notice it!” Maybe Danny can chalk this whole thing up to a bad nightmare. “This whole thing is absurd, even for you McGarrett, and we’re going to have a long talk about what the hell you have been slipping in my coffee that is clearly making me have hallucinations!”
“Danny -“ Steve tries for a second time, but Danny is finished. He shrugs off Steve’s hand and stands up, pointing a finger in what must be the robot’s face and feels satisfaction when the robot does an almost millimeter recoil.
“You,” he says to the robot with exaggerated slowness, “I don’t know where you came from, but get the fuck out of here. And I would like my car back, preferably in one piece if it’s all the same to you.”
There’s a protesting groan of metal and the lamp-eyes downcast toward the floor and for fucks sake, even the robot has to have a puppy dog look to rival Steve’s. Danny’s life is seriously unfair.
“Don’t you dare give me that look, even if you are a figment of my imagination. Get me my car back now.” And he turns his best glare on the robot, which creaks again, and if Danny didn’t know better he’d say it almost looked a little shame-faced. But it doesn’t last long as the screech of metal against metal becomes apparent and there’s mere seconds before the Camaro is standing in almost petulant silence before them.
“Danny, I think you hurt its feelings.”
“I don’t care, my life has been nothing but one wacky situation after another with you, but I’ve had enough and if there’s one thing I can control it should be my damn car. And sometimes I don’t even have that luxury because you’re the one driving it.” Danny says sourly and opens the car door, sliding into passenger seat of his own volition despite his protests to the contrary.
Steve sort of had the half-smile, half-smirk on his face and Danny thinks he’s totally missing the point before it becomes a full-fledged grin.
“Are you sitting in the passenger seat because you’re afraid your own car won’t listen to you now you’ve insulted it?” Steve asks, and Danny still wishes he had his cane to deliver a beating with.
“No.” And that might not be entirely true but Steve lets it slide, even if he’s still grinning like the Joker as he moves into the seat more gracefully than Danny could ever hope for before sliding the key into the ignition.
The car starts easily, engine purring under Steve’s hands and Danny rolls his eyes. Even his car has a fucking crush on his partner, and if that isn’t just one more thing to compete with.
Steve’s hand lands on his thigh, lingering just a second too long a Steve’s gaze sweeps a line up Danny’s torso to Danny’s face.
“You alright?” There’s no joking in that tone, and Danny feel a wry smile of affection pulling at his face.
“No. But it’s nothing a couple of beers won’t fix. And you’re paying.”
“Yeah, I thought that might be it,” Steve just huffs out a short laugh in response, before peeling out of the warehouse, tires squealing and the smell of burnt rubber lingering long after their gone.
Danny decides not to mention that the car plays nothing but Steve’s kind of terrible music the whole ride back.
Not only does he have a car that seems to turn itself into a robot, it’s also apparently a moody teenager focused on making his life hell by favoring the other parent.
Sometime’s Danny really does hate his life.