H50 fic
Title: Semtex, séances and something else
Chapter: 3/5
Rating: PG - 13
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Summary: Danny talks a lot. Doesn’t mean he actually enjoys talking to dead people. Psychic AU.
Author’s note: I’d have a proper bitch fit about why RL sucks but decided not to bore you with tales of being terribly sick, hating uni administration and taking a part-time gig as a teacher (who wouldn’t enjoy getting up early and being disrespected by hormonal teenagers?). Suffices to say I finally got back to working on this. Sorry for the wait. This chapter had me wondering whether I should warn for death fic… but well, it’s canon and also: Psychic AU.
I'm not even exaggerating when I say this chapter wouldn't be what it is without the help (and honesty) of
springwoof, who is an amazing beta. Any remaining mistakes belong to yours truly.
Warnings/Spoilers: There are a number of lines and situations that will be familiar from season one, particularly 1x08, because originality is for losers this is an altered mashed-up AU-version of events.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit. A girl can dream, though…
Danny awakes to the presence of a ghost. He can tell before he even opens his eyes by the way that something in the atmosphere is just that tiny bit off. It’s disconcerting and familiar at the same time. He groans, stretches, and sits up to face the inevitable. As soon as his eyes encounter the spirit he freezes in shock. It isn’t the first time he'd woken to see a ghost, not the first time it’s the ghost of someone he knew either, but it’s the first time that he didn’t know the person he is seeing was dead.
“Meka?” he asks, almost choking on the name.
“Howzit, Danny,” the ghost of Meka says with a relaxed smile, lounging in Danny’s run down armchair.
“What happened?” is all Danny got out.
“Murder,” Meka’s ghost tells him with an easy shrug of the shoulders before his expression turns more serious. “She needs your help.”
Danny is already pulling on his pants when Meka’s ghost vanishes. He hurries out of the apartment and runs straight into Amy, who is looking distraught and so goddamn lost it breaks Danny’s heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, wrapping her up in his arms.
“You were so busy lately,” she mumbles into his shirt, her tears staining the fabric. “And you had your weekend with Grace… and I… I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“God, Amy,” he breathes into her hair and for once doesn’t know what to say at all.
“It’s awful Danny, just awful. Everyone at HPD is keeping their distance, even the people I thought were Meka’s friends. And when I called about the funeral arrangements they said they were still pending.”
“Okay, no problem. Just tell me everything you know and we’ll figure it out from there,” Danny says, taking her hand in his and squeezing it supportively.
Hearing Amy tell him how her husband was shot in the back twice and dumped in a luau pit afterwards is hard and Danny feels terrible for letting her go through all of that again, but he keeps a hold of her hand and makes himself listen to everything, even the bit about them needing dental records to ID the body, without interrupting her once.
“I’ll take care of it,” he hears himself promise hoarsely after she is finished. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thank you Danny. Billy’s with his grandparents,” she says almost apologetically. “I need to go get him. I just thought I’d stop by and tell you in person.”
She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand and tries for a brave façade. Danny’s heart breaks all over again.
“Look, whatever you need Amy, okay?” he says, stroking her arm gently as he walks her back to her car. “I’m here for you, just give me a call.”
Amy leans into him and sends him a brittle smile.
“I know you are,” she replies softly. “It’s why I came to you. So did Meka, right? He always said you were special.”
“Yeah, for a haole psychic,” Danny jokes self-deprecatingly.
It makes Amy’s eyes light up slightly, and Danny takes that as a win.
“It’s not like that. He liked you, said you had fresh eyes, great instincts, and you were always direct with him. He wouldn’t have let me work for just anyone.”
Danny grins at her sadly and, hugging her once more, tells her, “He was my friend and I will find out what happened to him.”
Amy squeezes his hand tightly. Her eyes are warm even as they glitter with unshed tears and she holds his gaze long enough for him to see everything she can’t say in the soft sparkle of her aura. He knows it so well, even if the gentle yellow glow is tinged with a dark blue hue of sadness now. Her gratitude is a brilliant turquoise line that blends into white relief and is spotted with pearly light blue dots of hope. He wishes there was something else he could say to her, something more, but there isn’t and so he lets her go.
As he watches her drive off, Danny fumbles for his phone. He needs to call Chin or Kono. His brain is operating on autopilot mostly. He’s still reeling from shock and can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Only the imperative to see Steve rings clear as day. And for that he needs to know Steve’s address. Shit, he doesn’t even know where the guy lives and yet he has this urgent - almost overwhelming - need to see him. Later he will go and see Grace, take a moment to swoop her up in his arms and pretend that he can keep her there forever. But right now he just needs to see Steve.
….
“Danny, what are you doing here,” Steve asks, sounding genuinely happy to see him.
He wants to say something scathing and regular, something along the lines of ‘you didn’t kick me out of my bed at the brink of dawn so I figured the end was nigh’, but he doesn’t because Meka is dead and, well, Meka is dead.
Steve picks up the slack for him.
“You know,” he offers with a wry grin. “Some people like to knock before they go barging into other people’s places. What happened to the courtesy knock?”
It’s only then that Danny realized that he marched straight into Steve’s living room and that Steve isn’t wearing a shirt. This could have been very awkward indeed.
“What? Did I interrupt something?” he asks, arching his eyebrows and making a show of looking around the empty and somewhat dated living room. This must have been Steve’s father’s place. “You want me to go back out and knock? Or should I just leave?”
He thought he did a pretty good job of imitating his usual brand of sarcasm, but he must have fallen short because Steve’s grin slips from his face and is replaced by a look of concern.
“Danno? What’s wrong?”
When it comes to the more intricate shades of human emotions Steve isn’t the most perceptive of people; actually, part of Danny is still not entirely convinced that he isn’t some sort of alien life form. Which is why this rather astonishing display of empathy is pretty impressive.
“A friend of mine was killed,” Danny tells Steve and saying it out aloud made it more real all of a sudden.
Steve winces in sympathy.
“Shit man, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and for a moment it looks like he is going to reach out for Danny, maybe draw him into a hug, but he doesn’t.
“You want a beer?” he offers instead, and Danny should really say no to that.
Alcohol before breakfast does not seem like a healthy way to start the day, but he nods and lets Steve press a bottle into his hand before following him out onto the deck. Of course Steve’s house backs onto the beach.
Steve grabbed a shirt on their way out and sets down his bottle on one of the lawn chairs to pull it on. Danny can’t help but watch the ripple of muscles and feels instantly guilty. Meka is dead and here he is drooling over Mister Sex on Two Legs like it’s any other day of the week.
He takes a swig of his beer and fixes his gaze on the ocean. The shore is only a few feet away from them and tiny waves break gently upon it. It’s the only sound out here. The sun has only just dawned and the light is still warm and soft and golden. Palm trees line the horizon and there is a mild breeze. The moment is so perfectly beautiful that it’s soothing and painful at the same time.
“You gonna tell me about that friend of yours?” Steve asks after a moment, having settled into the lawn chair and looking up at Danny all earnest intensity.
Danny’s swallows hard. There is no way he can talk about Meka right now. He just can’t. So he talks about Amy instead. How he met her when he just moved to Hawaii, trying to find his footing in the unfamiliar surroundings. And how that had turned out to be a stroke of luck, because Amy was looking for a small part-time job and Danny needed someone to conquer the chaos at the office. She’d become quickly indispensible. He talks about her unique blend of softness and determination, her quiet smiles and the way her entire aura would light up when she talked about her husband. Steve listens carefully, dark blue eyes trained on Danny’s face the entire time. Danny settles down on the empty lawn chair next to him, sipping from his beer absentmindedly.
“Turns out her husband is a cop,” he says half to himself, dredging up a memory and grinning wistfully. “I thought that was gonna end in disaster for sure, but we kinda hit it off straightaway. Meka actually hired me for a couple of cases. He’s a great guy. And now he’s dead. Shot in the back twice. And Amy’s got no idea what’s going on. HPD is stonewalling her.”
Steve’s gaze is clear and compassionate. It settles Danny. He takes another long drag from his bottle and leans back, falling silent. This, he thinks idly, is what it feels like to have someone to talk to. He’s been separated from his family for so long now, he’d almost forgotten what that was like. Not the letting off steam part or the sharing his feelings with someone part, because Danny has always been able to do that with pretty much anyone, but the having someone who’s actually listening to him part. Rachel used to be that person, but that’s over and done with now. He doesn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘fuck, I needed this’, but he lets that peaceful energy wash over him and doesn’t feel quite so angry and helpless anymore, just sad. After another moment Steve leans forward. His leg presses against Danny’s, forcing Danny to meet his gaze.
“We will find out what happened,” he promises.
Danny smiles at him and this time he says, “Thank you.”
He rests his hand on Steve’s thigh and squeezes gently to let him know that he gets it. He understands that a promise of immediate action is the only way Steve knows of showing that he cares, of offering comfort. It’s both pathetic and oddly endearing at the same time.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket and speed dials his not-so-little helpers to let them know they’re taking on a new case.
“How’s Danny,” Chin asks before Steve even gets the chance to go into any details. “He called earlier asking for your address. He didn’t sound so hot.”
Kono adds a worried, “Is he okay?”
Steve put them on speaker and Danny feels a warm glow of gratitude settle in his stomach at the words. His own family might be miles away, but suddenly he doesn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s good to hear that people care. It seems, he’s made more friends in Hawaii than he realized.
“I’m alright,” he says, trying to convey that he’s genuinely touched by their concern, and then goes on to telling them everything he knows about Meka’s murder.
“Do you know the name of the lead detective?” Chin asks.
“Amy said it’s a sergeant named Cage.”
“Cage?” Chin repeats surprised. “You sure about that?”
“Why? You know him?” Steve interjects.
“Yeah, but Cage isn’t homicide,” Chin replies and there is a moment of heavy silence, before he adds, “Cage is IA.”
“Why would Internal Affairs investigate Meka’s murder?” Danny asks sharply. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know, but we’re gonna ask Cage just that,” Steve says, voice firm, before issuing orders into the phone, “Chin, Kono, you go talk to Meka’s wife. See if she knows anything about the cases Meka was working on. Danny and I are going to talk to Cage.”
Even while still feeling mostly upset, Danny is sort of glad to have Steve, man of action, taking control of the situation. It’s reassuring.
....
They find the IA sergeant at a golf club, casually hitting balls on the driving range. Sometimes Danny despairs of humanity. Steve does the introductions and Danny can barely keep a lid on all of his anger.
“Cage you are a prince,” he spits out incredulously. “A cop gets killed and burned in a pit and you are out here practicing your swing.”
“How I choose to spent my lunch hour is my business,” the sergeant replies slickly. “Some people release stress by lifting weights, others run. I hit tiny little white balls a very long way.”
Right now Danny would like to release stress by hitting Cage’s head repeatedly with his own club. He isn’t surprised to find that the man’s aura gives nothing away. Cage clearly has all the personality and human compassion of a cardboard box.
“Why is IA running a homicide investigation?” Steve averts Danny’s oncoming rant smoothly.
“And more importantly what kinda asshole messes with a fallen cop’s funeral arrangements?” Danny adds, not about to be stopped from telling this pompous jerk exactly what he thinks of him, stretching his arms to indicate the sheer level of assholery involved here.
“I don’t know who you are supposed to be,” Cage informs Danny dismissively, before turning to Steve, “but I know all about your little taskforce and how you force yourself onto cases. This is an Internal Affairs matter involving an officer suspected of corruption.”
“Corruption?” Danny explodes. “What the hell is the matter with you, huh? Corruption?”
Steve interjects a soothing “Danny,” which isn’t really helping at all.
“You’ve got evidence to back that up?” he asks Cage, all serious and reasonable. And really, he picked one hell of a moment to turn into Mister Sensible all of a sudden.
“Off the record?” Cage replies.
“Yeah sure, off the record,” Steve consents.
Danny expects them to be announcing their undying devotion for each other by the end of the day. Cage utters some nonsense about Meka’s cases falling apart at the eleventh hour and Danny really can’t stand to listen to this load of b.s. any longer.
“Stop,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at the detective. “I knew this guy, alright. He was a good cop. A clean cop.”
“Believe what you want,” Cage tells him, unimpressed.
Danny hasn’t met anyone this utterly and unrepentantly uncaring since the last meet and greet with Rachel’s scumbag attorney.
“Why do I even bother? You are useless,” he informs Cage with what feels like a truly remarkable show of restraint.
And then he walks off, not bothering to wait for Steve who is exchanging some last minute pleasantries with Cage.
“Wait up, Danno,” Steve calls out, jogging up to him as he reaches the exit.
“What? You didn’t get his number?” Danny asks sarcastically.
“Not my type,” Steve deadpans and his grin is all types of suggestive.
Danny pretends his heart doesn’t skip a beat at that. He’s become quite adept at ignoring the bone-deep near constant urge to say fuck it and just pounce on Steve.
“Is it the lack of a soul? Cause I can see how that could put you off.”
“At least he didn’t wear his tie on the course,” Steve remarks, eying Danny’s tie as if it offended him personally.
“This,” Danny says, holding up the tie for closer inspection. “Is my favorite tie. Grace gave me this tie for Father’s Day.”
Steve actually smiles at that, not mockingly but fondly understanding, and Danny sort of loves the way mentioning Grace turns Steve into a big mushy goofball. Still, Steve follows the smile with the words, “You'll never fit in here looking like you’re from the mainland.”
“Who says I wanna fit in?” Danny asks, perplexed, trying to convey the utter insanity of that notion by waving his hands in front of Steve’s face. “I don’t wanna fit in. I wanna look like I’m from the mainland. Back home I solved a lot of cases looking like this.”
“Not in a hundred-and-ten degree weather you don’t,” Steve mutters.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I was travelling with the fashion police,” Danny quips. “What? You wanna talk about my shoes next?”
“Well, now that you mention it. Patent leather loafers?”
“Will you do me a favor, please?” Danny asks taking an exaggeratedly deep breath and rubbing his temple demonstratively. “Just let it go.”
Steve grins, shrugs his shoulders and pulls out the keys for the Camaro. It takes a moment for Danny to realize that he doesn’t feel like he’s about a millisecond from blowing a fucking fuse anymore. Somehow bickering with Steve must’ve released some of the angry tension. Danny can’t help but feel that his anger management course would’ve run a whole lot smoother if he’d had Steve at his side back then.
….
Unfortunately the mellow, more relaxed vibe Danny is suddenly rocking only lasts until they arrive at HPD to find Meka’s desk picked clean.
“Cage is a vulture,” Danny informs Steve, when they get told that Internal Affairs cleared out all of Meka’s stuff the day before.
Around them everyone is milling about as if Danny and Steve aren’t standing there looking for answers and paperwork has apparently never been more fascinating than right this very moment.
“You know what Meka was working on?” Danny asks the guy closest to him, and gets a shake of the head and a hasty “No clue,” in response.
“No clue,” he repeats incredulously. “What about you?” he asks, randomly pointing at another HPD officer. “Or you?”
Their reaction is very much the same as the first guy’s.
“No one?” He asks raising his voice and enunciating every single syllable. “What was Meka working on?”
Not so much as twitch.
“Are you for real?” he can’t help but holler at the assorted officers. “Meka was a cop! One of your own. Some sick fuck shoots him in the back, and you’re all acting like you don’t know who I’m talking about? I need someone to help me out here.”
He gets some more stony silence as a reward for his trouble. There is a very real sense of ‘if we don’t acknowledge you, you don’t exist’ in the air. Fuck this shit! If they think they can just wish him away they have another thing coming.
“Kaleo,” he says, latching onto a familiar, if not entirely welcome, face. “Have you worked with Meka before?”
“I’m busy,” is Kaleo’s curt reply.
“Yeah, you are busy not answering my questions.”
“You got problems, haole?” Kaleo sneers. “Take it up with IA. Cause we’ve got a gag order here. Understand?”
Danny would very much like to punch him in the face. The one decent cop he’s met on the island of horror and flower necklaces is dead and these bastards are cowering behind their desks like they are afraid IA is going to discharge all of them for daring to breathe too loudly. This is so many shades of wrong Danny can’t even begin to count them. Committing an assault in the middle of a police station, on a cop no less, is the single stupidest thing he could do, though. He needs to reel in the anger. Sometimes it helps to drown himself in the sight of an aura, follow the patterns and shades and colors until his own emotions subside. He looks around the room and gets nothing. Everyone is so clammed up Danny only gets a vague sense of general unease. The place is a conglomerate of dull, throbbing grays and a hint of a dusty black. It literally makes Danny’s head hurt. He needs some fresh air ASAP.
“Thank you gentlemen, you’ve been very helpful,” he announces sarcastically, not bothering to mask his disgust.
He pretends not to hear the stage-whisper remark about haole charlatans needing to mind their own fucking business as he walks away. Steve follows him out of HPD and to the Camaro oddly subdued and if Danny weren’t still reeling from what just happened, he would probably have clued into something being off a lot sooner. As it is it takes the sight of Steve staring into the middle distance after a few minutes on the road to make him ask, “What’s with the face?”
“I don’t have a face,” Steve retorts instantly.
“I may read people’s auras, but I’m pretty good with faces too. And you, my friend, have a face.”
“Alright,” Steve admits readily enough. “I wanna ask you something, but I know it’s gonna piss you off.”
“Way to be judgmental, Steven. Would you stop acting as if I’m some sort of hot head who can’t think objectively? I can think objectively. I’m not the one going around throwing people off of balconies.”
“I never …,” Steve starts and then stops himself with a ‘never mind’ wave of the hand. “Did you ever have any issues with Meka?”
“Any issues? No Oprah, no issues.”
“It’s just that Cage said something that made me think.”
“Was it ‘what an enormous asshole’ by any chance? Cause that’s what I was thinking.”
“No, he said something about a leak in the department.”
“I didn’t hear him say anything like that.”
“Yeah, maybe not in so many words. But listen, a while back we sent Kono undercover into a human trafficking ring and she got made. She could’ve been killed. It was a close call. Thing is, Sang Min, the trafficker, sent a picture of Kono to some guy in HPD who IDed her as a cop.”
“So what are you saying? That Meka was that guy?”
“I’m not saying anything. I’m just asking for your objective opinion, is it possible that the guy could have been Meka?”
“No,” Danny says emphatically.
“Not a chance?”
“Do I speak in riddles, or something? What, are you on Cage’s side now?”
“Of course not. I’m just saying we should keep an open mind.”
“An open mind,” Danny repeats, and suddenly he is shouting again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know keeping an open mind was your job. I thought it was catching murderers. And hey, whaddya know, Meka was murdered! So how about you focus on catching his killer instead of framing an innocent cop? Do you think you could do that?”
Steve stares at him attentively, like if he just listens hard enough he can figure out what Danny is yelling about. Danny has to remind himself - not for the first time either - not to think about whether this intensity, this driven focus, translates into other aspects of Steve’s life too.
“I can do that,” Steve says, slow and deliberate as if he’s given the question some thought. God, how Danny wishes he didn’t like the way Steve smiles so much. “Also, I’m really glad we’ve established that you are not a hot head, Danno. It would be a true hardship to work with someone like that.”
And there goes Danny’s anger, leaving only the usual sense of mild irritation. The ease with which Steve can make him simmer down is, frankly, disturbing.
….
They meet Chin and Kono at 5-0 HQ later. The cousins are huddled up in front of what looks like the offspring of an iPad that had its wicked way with a table. They are spinning files and photos over several screens as if they are presenting a new game at a seriously weirdass computer convention.
“This is impressive,” Danny says, waving at the assorted technical equipment that would probably put a space station to shame.
He doesn’t remember noticing all of this stuff the last time around. Admittedly, he was pretty damn distracted by the sight of Steve shirtless at the time.
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Steve teases. “It’s a computer, Danno. You do know how to use them, right? You’ve sent e-mails?”
Danny is a bit of a technophobe; he’s got no problem admitting to that.
“I hate e-mails,” he tells Steve. “I never sit at a computer and I can’t type on my cell cause I’ve got goofy thumbs.”
All three members of the governor’s very own task force stare at him with a mix of barely concealed pity and amusement.
“You know that you can create short-cuts on your phone, right?” Chin asks at the same time as Steve says, “Have you tried turning it sideways?”
Kono just shakes his head at him sadly and then asks whether he knows how to use the Internet.
“Excuse me,” Danny says with an air of personal affront. “I can see that your advanced technological skills far outweigh my meager talents and far be it from me to burst the little high-and-mightily-superior bubble you’ve got going here. I mean, I really love being patronized, but let me just ask you this, can any one of you read an aura? No? Didn’t think so.”
All three of them wear matching grins, amused and amiable. Steve nudges his shoulder companionably and Danny can’t help but grin back at them. This is easy and somehow just right. It feels good to be a part of something, even if it’s a circle of dorky lunatics. He doesn’t really want to break the mood, but Meka’s death hangs over him like one of the dark clouds Hawaii so rarely sees.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” he pleads with them. “Anything.”
“Amy didn’t know anything about Meka’s cases.” Chin replies and he sounds oddly affected when he adds, “She didn’t even know Meka was under IA investigation.”
There is something in his tone that reverberates in his aura. Danny’s seen it before, a dark heavy weight that diminishes the cool blue light of Chin’s aura. Danny knows that Chin has some history with IA himself, so clearly this strikes a chord with him, but there is more to it than that. Chin’s aura is always soothing to watch, it has a calm, laid back energy that just seems perfectly in balance all the time, but this dark shadow is anchored in it. It’s more than a passing memory of being wronged. It’s a secret Chin is carrying around with him. Danny doesn’t think it does him much good.
“Seriously man, you’ve gotta come clean,” he tells Chin on an impulse. “It’s wearing you down.”
The remark is greeted with heavy silence, but Chin doesn’t pretend not to know what Danny’s talking about. It’s Kono who speaks first, however.
“Chin didn’t take that money,” she exclaims fiercely, stepping up to Danny with a challenging glint in her eyes.
And yeah, he won’t lie, he finds Kono pretty damn intimidating. After all, he’s seen her roundhouse kick guys twice his size. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Steve move behind him, crossing his arms in front of his chest, to do what? Save Danny from his little girl-clone in training? Danny’s not sure whether to be offended or flattered, but leans strongly towards the former.
“I know that,” he tells her, bristling a little.
Kono’s reaction takes everyone by surprise. All of a sudden her shoulders sag slightly and then she essentially tackle-hugs him.
“No one ever just accepted that without question,” she says softly, her face pressed against the side of his head and her voice wavers a little.
It’s the second time he’s hugging an emotional woman today and he’s not sure that’s a track record he wants to continue. If beautiful Hawaiian women decide to throw themselves at him all of a sudden, he’d really like it if they weren’t close to tears while doing so. Still, he pats Kono’s back gently. He knows how close she is to her cousin. Bits of her and Chin’s auras reflect each other and that is very rare indeed. In Danny’s experience that only happens when two people share a particularly strong bond. So naturally, Kono takes what happened to Chin very hard.
“Hey, I can read auras so I’m clearly at an advantage,” he tells her as he lets go of her. “I’m just saying that Chin shouldn’t try to shoulder everyone else’s burdens. I understand that it’s about family, but still.”
The last part was just an educated guess, based on Chin’s reaction to Amy and everything that Danny knows about the guy, but from the look on Chin’s face he isn’t far off base. Chin who looked touched by Kono’s outburst a second ago, now looks vaguely horrified. Clearly, he didn’t want Kono to find out about this. And from the way Kono immediately starts quizzing him, Danny can tell why.
“It’s nothing, cuz, really,” Chin tells her. “Don’t worry about it.”
No chance in hell is that gonna work; Kono’s nothing if not determined. Chin’s not giving up easily, though.
“It’s not my story to tell, Kono,” he declares with an air of finality, and adds, “I’m gonna go check Meka’s cell phone records.”
He turns and heads for his office. Danny wants to give him props for successfully weaseling out of that particular conversation, he really does, but from the look on Kono’s face that’s clearly not happening.
“I still need to check Meka’s laptop,” she says and hurries after her cousin.
Steve throws him a puzzled look.
“What the hell was that all about?”
Danny has no idea how Steve makes cluelessness look that hot. The little frown line on his forehead and the way he looks like he’s trying to solve a complicated math problem really do something for Danny.
“Seriously man, mammal to mammal skills,” he tells Steve, trying to deflect. “Room for improvement.”
“Thank you Dr. Phil,” Steve shoots back, the edge of a smile playing across his lips.
He really needs to stop looking at people like that, all affectionate and happy and like you are the only person who exists in his orbit. It makes Danny’s fingers itch. It makes him want to reach out and take a hold of Steve. It makes him think of the kiss they don’t talk about. The kiss they pretend was just a diversionary tactic. It makes him remember -quite vividly - the way Steve tastes and feels and how much he makes Danny want. And for a moment he forgets that hooking up with Steve would be an exceptionally stupid idea, because Steve has issues and, if Danny’s perfectly honest, he’s got issues too.
“I’ve gotta go, check something out,” he announces a little too sudden, because really that line of thinking is no good. No good at all.
“What? Where are you going?” Steve asks instantly, and it’s not as if Danny hasn’t already noticed the man has some sort of complex about knowing every last detail about everything concerning Danny’s life.
“I may not have your intimate knowledge of the wonderful world of technology, but I know someone who does,” he explains deliberately vague. “And I think he might be able to get us more info on what Meka was working on when he was killed.”
“You know someone?” Steve repeats suspiciously.
“Yeah, no need to sound so surprised. I know a guy.”
“Can I come?”
Of course Steve would try to tag along.
“That’s not really a good idea,” Danny says carefully. “Strictly speaking, this guy doesn’t always adhere exactly to the letter of the law. The less you know about him the better.”
“Wait a second,” Steve exclaims and has the audacity to look distantly scandalized. “You are always on my back about not following procedure and you have some criminal procuring information for you?”
“Well, you are a duly sworn officer of the law, are you not? Excuse me for holding you to a higher standard than a lowly PI.”
The words come out a little sharper than he intended. His compunction about doing something slightly unethical to get a job done may be a remainder from his own stint as a cop, but he learned a while back that you have to deal in shades of gray when you don’t have the weight of the badge on your side. And mostly he can work with that.
“I’m just saying, I get a pass the next time you wanna lecture me,” Steve tells him smugly, and Danny rolls his eyes at him.
“Call me, if the Wonder Twins find anything,” he says by way of a dismissal, trying to ignore how much Steve looks like an abandoned puppy when he leaves.
….
Toast, a computer whizz whose dead sister Lea had come to Danny a couple of month back, lives on the outskirts of freaking nowhere. Seriously, why people would choose to settle down in the middle of a jungle is beyond Danny. In Toast’s case it’s probably a result of being stoned out of his mind. A hut in the freaking jungle, Danny shakes his head at himself as he makes his way to where Toast sits hunched over his computer. And there are chickens, honest-to-god chickens, too.
He drops his bag of groceries in front of Toast to snap him out of his stupor.
“Sixth Sense,” Toast exclaims, taking off his headphones and closing his laptop. “You’re looking all kama’aina.”
His broad grin probably means that he’s halfway to baked like a potato already. Danny sighs inwardly.
“You know I haven’t got a clue what you are saying, right?”
“Lea been back?”
Toast’s tone is hopeful and that is another reason Danny wishes the dead would stop using him as their personal errand boy.
“Not yet,” he offers, because ghosts like Lea, who stick around out of sheer worry for someone else, have a tendency to return. “I need a favor. Do you think you could hack into the HPD database and get access to the files of an IA sergeant by the name of Cage?”
Toast gives him a look along the lines of ‘is the pope catholic’ and launches into a diatribe about how woefully under-protected any and all governmental databases in the State of Hawaii are. Danny grunts something vaguely encouraging and lets Toast work his magic while he goes about storing the groceries he’s brought along into the hacker’s under-stuffed fridge. The problem with Lea is that she was one of the most agreeable spirits Danny had ever encountered and somehow her worry for her brother rubbed off on him. It reminded Danny about how he used to take care of his kid brother Matty and so he found himself looking after Toast for her, which entailed making sure he ate regularly and getting him that scholarship to MIT. Half an hour later Danny has all the info he needs.
“Meka was looking into the Ochoa cartel,” he tells Steve on the phone on his way back to what passes for civilization in Hawaii. “Some dude named Emilio. Apparently the cartel’s up-and-coming lieutenant, who’s looking to set up business in Hawaii.”
“Chin found out that Meka booked a flight to Singapore and Kono detected a cloud site he visited frequently. There are wire transfers from an Ochoa shell corporation in Mexico to an encrypted account in Singapore on his offsite server,” Steve tells him in reply, there is something in his tone that suggests Danny should be able to make something of his words.
Danny’s more than a little lost in all that techno-garble.
“So?” He prompts uncomprehending,
“Singapore is like the new Switzerland,” Steve, hoarder of infinite wisdom, explains. “It’s one of the few places that didn’t change its banking confidentiality laws post 9/11. They can actually hide the account holder’s ID even from the authorities.”
“So you think Meka was going down there to lean on the bank trying to find out who the account holder is?”
Steve doesn’t reply and suddenly Danny gets it. “You think Meka was the account holder?”
“Look Danny, I’m just saying all the evidence points to Meka being dirty.”
“Fuck the evidence,” Danny spit out angrily. He can’t believe Steve’s still going there. “I knew Meka. He wasn’t dirty. He’s the one friend I’ve made on this godforsaken miserable island.”
He hears a sharp intake of breath from Steve’s end of the line and feels darkly satisfied by that. Of course he’d come to think of Steve as a friend, too - well, actually he’d come to think of Steve as a bit more than a friend--but right now he feel betrayed and angry and he wants Steve to hurt too.
“You know what?” He informs Steve furiously. “If my word isn’t good enough for you, I’m done with this.”
And with that, he hangs up on the stupid ex-SEAL.
continue here
Chapter: 3/5
Rating: PG - 13
Pairing: Steve/Danno
Summary: Danny talks a lot. Doesn’t mean he actually enjoys talking to dead people. Psychic AU.
Author’s note: I’d have a proper bitch fit about why RL sucks but decided not to bore you with tales of being terribly sick, hating uni administration and taking a part-time gig as a teacher (who wouldn’t enjoy getting up early and being disrespected by hormonal teenagers?). Suffices to say I finally got back to working on this. Sorry for the wait. This chapter had me wondering whether I should warn for death fic… but well, it’s canon and also: Psychic AU.
I'm not even exaggerating when I say this chapter wouldn't be what it is without the help (and honesty) of
springwoof, who is an amazing beta. Any remaining mistakes belong to yours truly.
Warnings/Spoilers: There are a number of lines and situations that will be familiar from season one, particularly 1x08, because originality is for losers this is an altered mashed-up AU-version of events.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit. A girl can dream, though…
Danny awakes to the presence of a ghost. He can tell before he even opens his eyes by the way that something in the atmosphere is just that tiny bit off. It’s disconcerting and familiar at the same time. He groans, stretches, and sits up to face the inevitable. As soon as his eyes encounter the spirit he freezes in shock. It isn’t the first time he'd woken to see a ghost, not the first time it’s the ghost of someone he knew either, but it’s the first time that he didn’t know the person he is seeing was dead.
“Meka?” he asks, almost choking on the name.
“Howzit, Danny,” the ghost of Meka says with a relaxed smile, lounging in Danny’s run down armchair.
“What happened?” is all Danny got out.
“Murder,” Meka’s ghost tells him with an easy shrug of the shoulders before his expression turns more serious. “She needs your help.”
Danny is already pulling on his pants when Meka’s ghost vanishes. He hurries out of the apartment and runs straight into Amy, who is looking distraught and so goddamn lost it breaks Danny’s heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, wrapping her up in his arms.
“You were so busy lately,” she mumbles into his shirt, her tears staining the fabric. “And you had your weekend with Grace… and I… I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“God, Amy,” he breathes into her hair and for once doesn’t know what to say at all.
“It’s awful Danny, just awful. Everyone at HPD is keeping their distance, even the people I thought were Meka’s friends. And when I called about the funeral arrangements they said they were still pending.”
“Okay, no problem. Just tell me everything you know and we’ll figure it out from there,” Danny says, taking her hand in his and squeezing it supportively.
Hearing Amy tell him how her husband was shot in the back twice and dumped in a luau pit afterwards is hard and Danny feels terrible for letting her go through all of that again, but he keeps a hold of her hand and makes himself listen to everything, even the bit about them needing dental records to ID the body, without interrupting her once.
“I’ll take care of it,” he hears himself promise hoarsely after she is finished. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thank you Danny. Billy’s with his grandparents,” she says almost apologetically. “I need to go get him. I just thought I’d stop by and tell you in person.”
She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand and tries for a brave façade. Danny’s heart breaks all over again.
“Look, whatever you need Amy, okay?” he says, stroking her arm gently as he walks her back to her car. “I’m here for you, just give me a call.”
Amy leans into him and sends him a brittle smile.
“I know you are,” she replies softly. “It’s why I came to you. So did Meka, right? He always said you were special.”
“Yeah, for a haole psychic,” Danny jokes self-deprecatingly.
It makes Amy’s eyes light up slightly, and Danny takes that as a win.
“It’s not like that. He liked you, said you had fresh eyes, great instincts, and you were always direct with him. He wouldn’t have let me work for just anyone.”
Danny grins at her sadly and, hugging her once more, tells her, “He was my friend and I will find out what happened to him.”
Amy squeezes his hand tightly. Her eyes are warm even as they glitter with unshed tears and she holds his gaze long enough for him to see everything she can’t say in the soft sparkle of her aura. He knows it so well, even if the gentle yellow glow is tinged with a dark blue hue of sadness now. Her gratitude is a brilliant turquoise line that blends into white relief and is spotted with pearly light blue dots of hope. He wishes there was something else he could say to her, something more, but there isn’t and so he lets her go.
As he watches her drive off, Danny fumbles for his phone. He needs to call Chin or Kono. His brain is operating on autopilot mostly. He’s still reeling from shock and can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Only the imperative to see Steve rings clear as day. And for that he needs to know Steve’s address. Shit, he doesn’t even know where the guy lives and yet he has this urgent - almost overwhelming - need to see him. Later he will go and see Grace, take a moment to swoop her up in his arms and pretend that he can keep her there forever. But right now he just needs to see Steve.
….
“Danny, what are you doing here,” Steve asks, sounding genuinely happy to see him.
He wants to say something scathing and regular, something along the lines of ‘you didn’t kick me out of my bed at the brink of dawn so I figured the end was nigh’, but he doesn’t because Meka is dead and, well, Meka is dead.
Steve picks up the slack for him.
“You know,” he offers with a wry grin. “Some people like to knock before they go barging into other people’s places. What happened to the courtesy knock?”
It’s only then that Danny realized that he marched straight into Steve’s living room and that Steve isn’t wearing a shirt. This could have been very awkward indeed.
“What? Did I interrupt something?” he asks, arching his eyebrows and making a show of looking around the empty and somewhat dated living room. This must have been Steve’s father’s place. “You want me to go back out and knock? Or should I just leave?”
He thought he did a pretty good job of imitating his usual brand of sarcasm, but he must have fallen short because Steve’s grin slips from his face and is replaced by a look of concern.
“Danno? What’s wrong?”
When it comes to the more intricate shades of human emotions Steve isn’t the most perceptive of people; actually, part of Danny is still not entirely convinced that he isn’t some sort of alien life form. Which is why this rather astonishing display of empathy is pretty impressive.
“A friend of mine was killed,” Danny tells Steve and saying it out aloud made it more real all of a sudden.
Steve winces in sympathy.
“Shit man, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and for a moment it looks like he is going to reach out for Danny, maybe draw him into a hug, but he doesn’t.
“You want a beer?” he offers instead, and Danny should really say no to that.
Alcohol before breakfast does not seem like a healthy way to start the day, but he nods and lets Steve press a bottle into his hand before following him out onto the deck. Of course Steve’s house backs onto the beach.
Steve grabbed a shirt on their way out and sets down his bottle on one of the lawn chairs to pull it on. Danny can’t help but watch the ripple of muscles and feels instantly guilty. Meka is dead and here he is drooling over Mister Sex on Two Legs like it’s any other day of the week.
He takes a swig of his beer and fixes his gaze on the ocean. The shore is only a few feet away from them and tiny waves break gently upon it. It’s the only sound out here. The sun has only just dawned and the light is still warm and soft and golden. Palm trees line the horizon and there is a mild breeze. The moment is so perfectly beautiful that it’s soothing and painful at the same time.
“You gonna tell me about that friend of yours?” Steve asks after a moment, having settled into the lawn chair and looking up at Danny all earnest intensity.
Danny’s swallows hard. There is no way he can talk about Meka right now. He just can’t. So he talks about Amy instead. How he met her when he just moved to Hawaii, trying to find his footing in the unfamiliar surroundings. And how that had turned out to be a stroke of luck, because Amy was looking for a small part-time job and Danny needed someone to conquer the chaos at the office. She’d become quickly indispensible. He talks about her unique blend of softness and determination, her quiet smiles and the way her entire aura would light up when she talked about her husband. Steve listens carefully, dark blue eyes trained on Danny’s face the entire time. Danny settles down on the empty lawn chair next to him, sipping from his beer absentmindedly.
“Turns out her husband is a cop,” he says half to himself, dredging up a memory and grinning wistfully. “I thought that was gonna end in disaster for sure, but we kinda hit it off straightaway. Meka actually hired me for a couple of cases. He’s a great guy. And now he’s dead. Shot in the back twice. And Amy’s got no idea what’s going on. HPD is stonewalling her.”
Steve’s gaze is clear and compassionate. It settles Danny. He takes another long drag from his bottle and leans back, falling silent. This, he thinks idly, is what it feels like to have someone to talk to. He’s been separated from his family for so long now, he’d almost forgotten what that was like. Not the letting off steam part or the sharing his feelings with someone part, because Danny has always been able to do that with pretty much anyone, but the having someone who’s actually listening to him part. Rachel used to be that person, but that’s over and done with now. He doesn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘fuck, I needed this’, but he lets that peaceful energy wash over him and doesn’t feel quite so angry and helpless anymore, just sad. After another moment Steve leans forward. His leg presses against Danny’s, forcing Danny to meet his gaze.
“We will find out what happened,” he promises.
Danny smiles at him and this time he says, “Thank you.”
He rests his hand on Steve’s thigh and squeezes gently to let him know that he gets it. He understands that a promise of immediate action is the only way Steve knows of showing that he cares, of offering comfort. It’s both pathetic and oddly endearing at the same time.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket and speed dials his not-so-little helpers to let them know they’re taking on a new case.
“How’s Danny,” Chin asks before Steve even gets the chance to go into any details. “He called earlier asking for your address. He didn’t sound so hot.”
Kono adds a worried, “Is he okay?”
Steve put them on speaker and Danny feels a warm glow of gratitude settle in his stomach at the words. His own family might be miles away, but suddenly he doesn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s good to hear that people care. It seems, he’s made more friends in Hawaii than he realized.
“I’m alright,” he says, trying to convey that he’s genuinely touched by their concern, and then goes on to telling them everything he knows about Meka’s murder.
“Do you know the name of the lead detective?” Chin asks.
“Amy said it’s a sergeant named Cage.”
“Cage?” Chin repeats surprised. “You sure about that?”
“Why? You know him?” Steve interjects.
“Yeah, but Cage isn’t homicide,” Chin replies and there is a moment of heavy silence, before he adds, “Cage is IA.”
“Why would Internal Affairs investigate Meka’s murder?” Danny asks sharply. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know, but we’re gonna ask Cage just that,” Steve says, voice firm, before issuing orders into the phone, “Chin, Kono, you go talk to Meka’s wife. See if she knows anything about the cases Meka was working on. Danny and I are going to talk to Cage.”
Even while still feeling mostly upset, Danny is sort of glad to have Steve, man of action, taking control of the situation. It’s reassuring.
....
They find the IA sergeant at a golf club, casually hitting balls on the driving range. Sometimes Danny despairs of humanity. Steve does the introductions and Danny can barely keep a lid on all of his anger.
“Cage you are a prince,” he spits out incredulously. “A cop gets killed and burned in a pit and you are out here practicing your swing.”
“How I choose to spent my lunch hour is my business,” the sergeant replies slickly. “Some people release stress by lifting weights, others run. I hit tiny little white balls a very long way.”
Right now Danny would like to release stress by hitting Cage’s head repeatedly with his own club. He isn’t surprised to find that the man’s aura gives nothing away. Cage clearly has all the personality and human compassion of a cardboard box.
“Why is IA running a homicide investigation?” Steve averts Danny’s oncoming rant smoothly.
“And more importantly what kinda asshole messes with a fallen cop’s funeral arrangements?” Danny adds, not about to be stopped from telling this pompous jerk exactly what he thinks of him, stretching his arms to indicate the sheer level of assholery involved here.
“I don’t know who you are supposed to be,” Cage informs Danny dismissively, before turning to Steve, “but I know all about your little taskforce and how you force yourself onto cases. This is an Internal Affairs matter involving an officer suspected of corruption.”
“Corruption?” Danny explodes. “What the hell is the matter with you, huh? Corruption?”
Steve interjects a soothing “Danny,” which isn’t really helping at all.
“You’ve got evidence to back that up?” he asks Cage, all serious and reasonable. And really, he picked one hell of a moment to turn into Mister Sensible all of a sudden.
“Off the record?” Cage replies.
“Yeah sure, off the record,” Steve consents.
Danny expects them to be announcing their undying devotion for each other by the end of the day. Cage utters some nonsense about Meka’s cases falling apart at the eleventh hour and Danny really can’t stand to listen to this load of b.s. any longer.
“Stop,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at the detective. “I knew this guy, alright. He was a good cop. A clean cop.”
“Believe what you want,” Cage tells him, unimpressed.
Danny hasn’t met anyone this utterly and unrepentantly uncaring since the last meet and greet with Rachel’s scumbag attorney.
“Why do I even bother? You are useless,” he informs Cage with what feels like a truly remarkable show of restraint.
And then he walks off, not bothering to wait for Steve who is exchanging some last minute pleasantries with Cage.
“Wait up, Danno,” Steve calls out, jogging up to him as he reaches the exit.
“What? You didn’t get his number?” Danny asks sarcastically.
“Not my type,” Steve deadpans and his grin is all types of suggestive.
Danny pretends his heart doesn’t skip a beat at that. He’s become quite adept at ignoring the bone-deep near constant urge to say fuck it and just pounce on Steve.
“Is it the lack of a soul? Cause I can see how that could put you off.”
“At least he didn’t wear his tie on the course,” Steve remarks, eying Danny’s tie as if it offended him personally.
“This,” Danny says, holding up the tie for closer inspection. “Is my favorite tie. Grace gave me this tie for Father’s Day.”
Steve actually smiles at that, not mockingly but fondly understanding, and Danny sort of loves the way mentioning Grace turns Steve into a big mushy goofball. Still, Steve follows the smile with the words, “You'll never fit in here looking like you’re from the mainland.”
“Who says I wanna fit in?” Danny asks, perplexed, trying to convey the utter insanity of that notion by waving his hands in front of Steve’s face. “I don’t wanna fit in. I wanna look like I’m from the mainland. Back home I solved a lot of cases looking like this.”
“Not in a hundred-and-ten degree weather you don’t,” Steve mutters.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I was travelling with the fashion police,” Danny quips. “What? You wanna talk about my shoes next?”
“Well, now that you mention it. Patent leather loafers?”
“Will you do me a favor, please?” Danny asks taking an exaggeratedly deep breath and rubbing his temple demonstratively. “Just let it go.”
Steve grins, shrugs his shoulders and pulls out the keys for the Camaro. It takes a moment for Danny to realize that he doesn’t feel like he’s about a millisecond from blowing a fucking fuse anymore. Somehow bickering with Steve must’ve released some of the angry tension. Danny can’t help but feel that his anger management course would’ve run a whole lot smoother if he’d had Steve at his side back then.
….
Unfortunately the mellow, more relaxed vibe Danny is suddenly rocking only lasts until they arrive at HPD to find Meka’s desk picked clean.
“Cage is a vulture,” Danny informs Steve, when they get told that Internal Affairs cleared out all of Meka’s stuff the day before.
Around them everyone is milling about as if Danny and Steve aren’t standing there looking for answers and paperwork has apparently never been more fascinating than right this very moment.
“You know what Meka was working on?” Danny asks the guy closest to him, and gets a shake of the head and a hasty “No clue,” in response.
“No clue,” he repeats incredulously. “What about you?” he asks, randomly pointing at another HPD officer. “Or you?”
Their reaction is very much the same as the first guy’s.
“No one?” He asks raising his voice and enunciating every single syllable. “What was Meka working on?”
Not so much as twitch.
“Are you for real?” he can’t help but holler at the assorted officers. “Meka was a cop! One of your own. Some sick fuck shoots him in the back, and you’re all acting like you don’t know who I’m talking about? I need someone to help me out here.”
He gets some more stony silence as a reward for his trouble. There is a very real sense of ‘if we don’t acknowledge you, you don’t exist’ in the air. Fuck this shit! If they think they can just wish him away they have another thing coming.
“Kaleo,” he says, latching onto a familiar, if not entirely welcome, face. “Have you worked with Meka before?”
“I’m busy,” is Kaleo’s curt reply.
“Yeah, you are busy not answering my questions.”
“You got problems, haole?” Kaleo sneers. “Take it up with IA. Cause we’ve got a gag order here. Understand?”
Danny would very much like to punch him in the face. The one decent cop he’s met on the island of horror and flower necklaces is dead and these bastards are cowering behind their desks like they are afraid IA is going to discharge all of them for daring to breathe too loudly. This is so many shades of wrong Danny can’t even begin to count them. Committing an assault in the middle of a police station, on a cop no less, is the single stupidest thing he could do, though. He needs to reel in the anger. Sometimes it helps to drown himself in the sight of an aura, follow the patterns and shades and colors until his own emotions subside. He looks around the room and gets nothing. Everyone is so clammed up Danny only gets a vague sense of general unease. The place is a conglomerate of dull, throbbing grays and a hint of a dusty black. It literally makes Danny’s head hurt. He needs some fresh air ASAP.
“Thank you gentlemen, you’ve been very helpful,” he announces sarcastically, not bothering to mask his disgust.
He pretends not to hear the stage-whisper remark about haole charlatans needing to mind their own fucking business as he walks away. Steve follows him out of HPD and to the Camaro oddly subdued and if Danny weren’t still reeling from what just happened, he would probably have clued into something being off a lot sooner. As it is it takes the sight of Steve staring into the middle distance after a few minutes on the road to make him ask, “What’s with the face?”
“I don’t have a face,” Steve retorts instantly.
“I may read people’s auras, but I’m pretty good with faces too. And you, my friend, have a face.”
“Alright,” Steve admits readily enough. “I wanna ask you something, but I know it’s gonna piss you off.”
“Way to be judgmental, Steven. Would you stop acting as if I’m some sort of hot head who can’t think objectively? I can think objectively. I’m not the one going around throwing people off of balconies.”
“I never …,” Steve starts and then stops himself with a ‘never mind’ wave of the hand. “Did you ever have any issues with Meka?”
“Any issues? No Oprah, no issues.”
“It’s just that Cage said something that made me think.”
“Was it ‘what an enormous asshole’ by any chance? Cause that’s what I was thinking.”
“No, he said something about a leak in the department.”
“I didn’t hear him say anything like that.”
“Yeah, maybe not in so many words. But listen, a while back we sent Kono undercover into a human trafficking ring and she got made. She could’ve been killed. It was a close call. Thing is, Sang Min, the trafficker, sent a picture of Kono to some guy in HPD who IDed her as a cop.”
“So what are you saying? That Meka was that guy?”
“I’m not saying anything. I’m just asking for your objective opinion, is it possible that the guy could have been Meka?”
“No,” Danny says emphatically.
“Not a chance?”
“Do I speak in riddles, or something? What, are you on Cage’s side now?”
“Of course not. I’m just saying we should keep an open mind.”
“An open mind,” Danny repeats, and suddenly he is shouting again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know keeping an open mind was your job. I thought it was catching murderers. And hey, whaddya know, Meka was murdered! So how about you focus on catching his killer instead of framing an innocent cop? Do you think you could do that?”
Steve stares at him attentively, like if he just listens hard enough he can figure out what Danny is yelling about. Danny has to remind himself - not for the first time either - not to think about whether this intensity, this driven focus, translates into other aspects of Steve’s life too.
“I can do that,” Steve says, slow and deliberate as if he’s given the question some thought. God, how Danny wishes he didn’t like the way Steve smiles so much. “Also, I’m really glad we’ve established that you are not a hot head, Danno. It would be a true hardship to work with someone like that.”
And there goes Danny’s anger, leaving only the usual sense of mild irritation. The ease with which Steve can make him simmer down is, frankly, disturbing.
….
They meet Chin and Kono at 5-0 HQ later. The cousins are huddled up in front of what looks like the offspring of an iPad that had its wicked way with a table. They are spinning files and photos over several screens as if they are presenting a new game at a seriously weirdass computer convention.
“This is impressive,” Danny says, waving at the assorted technical equipment that would probably put a space station to shame.
He doesn’t remember noticing all of this stuff the last time around. Admittedly, he was pretty damn distracted by the sight of Steve shirtless at the time.
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Steve teases. “It’s a computer, Danno. You do know how to use them, right? You’ve sent e-mails?”
Danny is a bit of a technophobe; he’s got no problem admitting to that.
“I hate e-mails,” he tells Steve. “I never sit at a computer and I can’t type on my cell cause I’ve got goofy thumbs.”
All three members of the governor’s very own task force stare at him with a mix of barely concealed pity and amusement.
“You know that you can create short-cuts on your phone, right?” Chin asks at the same time as Steve says, “Have you tried turning it sideways?”
Kono just shakes his head at him sadly and then asks whether he knows how to use the Internet.
“Excuse me,” Danny says with an air of personal affront. “I can see that your advanced technological skills far outweigh my meager talents and far be it from me to burst the little high-and-mightily-superior bubble you’ve got going here. I mean, I really love being patronized, but let me just ask you this, can any one of you read an aura? No? Didn’t think so.”
All three of them wear matching grins, amused and amiable. Steve nudges his shoulder companionably and Danny can’t help but grin back at them. This is easy and somehow just right. It feels good to be a part of something, even if it’s a circle of dorky lunatics. He doesn’t really want to break the mood, but Meka’s death hangs over him like one of the dark clouds Hawaii so rarely sees.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” he pleads with them. “Anything.”
“Amy didn’t know anything about Meka’s cases.” Chin replies and he sounds oddly affected when he adds, “She didn’t even know Meka was under IA investigation.”
There is something in his tone that reverberates in his aura. Danny’s seen it before, a dark heavy weight that diminishes the cool blue light of Chin’s aura. Danny knows that Chin has some history with IA himself, so clearly this strikes a chord with him, but there is more to it than that. Chin’s aura is always soothing to watch, it has a calm, laid back energy that just seems perfectly in balance all the time, but this dark shadow is anchored in it. It’s more than a passing memory of being wronged. It’s a secret Chin is carrying around with him. Danny doesn’t think it does him much good.
“Seriously man, you’ve gotta come clean,” he tells Chin on an impulse. “It’s wearing you down.”
The remark is greeted with heavy silence, but Chin doesn’t pretend not to know what Danny’s talking about. It’s Kono who speaks first, however.
“Chin didn’t take that money,” she exclaims fiercely, stepping up to Danny with a challenging glint in her eyes.
And yeah, he won’t lie, he finds Kono pretty damn intimidating. After all, he’s seen her roundhouse kick guys twice his size. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Steve move behind him, crossing his arms in front of his chest, to do what? Save Danny from his little girl-clone in training? Danny’s not sure whether to be offended or flattered, but leans strongly towards the former.
“I know that,” he tells her, bristling a little.
Kono’s reaction takes everyone by surprise. All of a sudden her shoulders sag slightly and then she essentially tackle-hugs him.
“No one ever just accepted that without question,” she says softly, her face pressed against the side of his head and her voice wavers a little.
It’s the second time he’s hugging an emotional woman today and he’s not sure that’s a track record he wants to continue. If beautiful Hawaiian women decide to throw themselves at him all of a sudden, he’d really like it if they weren’t close to tears while doing so. Still, he pats Kono’s back gently. He knows how close she is to her cousin. Bits of her and Chin’s auras reflect each other and that is very rare indeed. In Danny’s experience that only happens when two people share a particularly strong bond. So naturally, Kono takes what happened to Chin very hard.
“Hey, I can read auras so I’m clearly at an advantage,” he tells her as he lets go of her. “I’m just saying that Chin shouldn’t try to shoulder everyone else’s burdens. I understand that it’s about family, but still.”
The last part was just an educated guess, based on Chin’s reaction to Amy and everything that Danny knows about the guy, but from the look on Chin’s face he isn’t far off base. Chin who looked touched by Kono’s outburst a second ago, now looks vaguely horrified. Clearly, he didn’t want Kono to find out about this. And from the way Kono immediately starts quizzing him, Danny can tell why.
“It’s nothing, cuz, really,” Chin tells her. “Don’t worry about it.”
No chance in hell is that gonna work; Kono’s nothing if not determined. Chin’s not giving up easily, though.
“It’s not my story to tell, Kono,” he declares with an air of finality, and adds, “I’m gonna go check Meka’s cell phone records.”
He turns and heads for his office. Danny wants to give him props for successfully weaseling out of that particular conversation, he really does, but from the look on Kono’s face that’s clearly not happening.
“I still need to check Meka’s laptop,” she says and hurries after her cousin.
Steve throws him a puzzled look.
“What the hell was that all about?”
Danny has no idea how Steve makes cluelessness look that hot. The little frown line on his forehead and the way he looks like he’s trying to solve a complicated math problem really do something for Danny.
“Seriously man, mammal to mammal skills,” he tells Steve, trying to deflect. “Room for improvement.”
“Thank you Dr. Phil,” Steve shoots back, the edge of a smile playing across his lips.
He really needs to stop looking at people like that, all affectionate and happy and like you are the only person who exists in his orbit. It makes Danny’s fingers itch. It makes him want to reach out and take a hold of Steve. It makes him think of the kiss they don’t talk about. The kiss they pretend was just a diversionary tactic. It makes him remember -quite vividly - the way Steve tastes and feels and how much he makes Danny want. And for a moment he forgets that hooking up with Steve would be an exceptionally stupid idea, because Steve has issues and, if Danny’s perfectly honest, he’s got issues too.
“I’ve gotta go, check something out,” he announces a little too sudden, because really that line of thinking is no good. No good at all.
“What? Where are you going?” Steve asks instantly, and it’s not as if Danny hasn’t already noticed the man has some sort of complex about knowing every last detail about everything concerning Danny’s life.
“I may not have your intimate knowledge of the wonderful world of technology, but I know someone who does,” he explains deliberately vague. “And I think he might be able to get us more info on what Meka was working on when he was killed.”
“You know someone?” Steve repeats suspiciously.
“Yeah, no need to sound so surprised. I know a guy.”
“Can I come?”
Of course Steve would try to tag along.
“That’s not really a good idea,” Danny says carefully. “Strictly speaking, this guy doesn’t always adhere exactly to the letter of the law. The less you know about him the better.”
“Wait a second,” Steve exclaims and has the audacity to look distantly scandalized. “You are always on my back about not following procedure and you have some criminal procuring information for you?”
“Well, you are a duly sworn officer of the law, are you not? Excuse me for holding you to a higher standard than a lowly PI.”
The words come out a little sharper than he intended. His compunction about doing something slightly unethical to get a job done may be a remainder from his own stint as a cop, but he learned a while back that you have to deal in shades of gray when you don’t have the weight of the badge on your side. And mostly he can work with that.
“I’m just saying, I get a pass the next time you wanna lecture me,” Steve tells him smugly, and Danny rolls his eyes at him.
“Call me, if the Wonder Twins find anything,” he says by way of a dismissal, trying to ignore how much Steve looks like an abandoned puppy when he leaves.
….
Toast, a computer whizz whose dead sister Lea had come to Danny a couple of month back, lives on the outskirts of freaking nowhere. Seriously, why people would choose to settle down in the middle of a jungle is beyond Danny. In Toast’s case it’s probably a result of being stoned out of his mind. A hut in the freaking jungle, Danny shakes his head at himself as he makes his way to where Toast sits hunched over his computer. And there are chickens, honest-to-god chickens, too.
He drops his bag of groceries in front of Toast to snap him out of his stupor.
“Sixth Sense,” Toast exclaims, taking off his headphones and closing his laptop. “You’re looking all kama’aina.”
His broad grin probably means that he’s halfway to baked like a potato already. Danny sighs inwardly.
“You know I haven’t got a clue what you are saying, right?”
“Lea been back?”
Toast’s tone is hopeful and that is another reason Danny wishes the dead would stop using him as their personal errand boy.
“Not yet,” he offers, because ghosts like Lea, who stick around out of sheer worry for someone else, have a tendency to return. “I need a favor. Do you think you could hack into the HPD database and get access to the files of an IA sergeant by the name of Cage?”
Toast gives him a look along the lines of ‘is the pope catholic’ and launches into a diatribe about how woefully under-protected any and all governmental databases in the State of Hawaii are. Danny grunts something vaguely encouraging and lets Toast work his magic while he goes about storing the groceries he’s brought along into the hacker’s under-stuffed fridge. The problem with Lea is that she was one of the most agreeable spirits Danny had ever encountered and somehow her worry for her brother rubbed off on him. It reminded Danny about how he used to take care of his kid brother Matty and so he found himself looking after Toast for her, which entailed making sure he ate regularly and getting him that scholarship to MIT. Half an hour later Danny has all the info he needs.
“Meka was looking into the Ochoa cartel,” he tells Steve on the phone on his way back to what passes for civilization in Hawaii. “Some dude named Emilio. Apparently the cartel’s up-and-coming lieutenant, who’s looking to set up business in Hawaii.”
“Chin found out that Meka booked a flight to Singapore and Kono detected a cloud site he visited frequently. There are wire transfers from an Ochoa shell corporation in Mexico to an encrypted account in Singapore on his offsite server,” Steve tells him in reply, there is something in his tone that suggests Danny should be able to make something of his words.
Danny’s more than a little lost in all that techno-garble.
“So?” He prompts uncomprehending,
“Singapore is like the new Switzerland,” Steve, hoarder of infinite wisdom, explains. “It’s one of the few places that didn’t change its banking confidentiality laws post 9/11. They can actually hide the account holder’s ID even from the authorities.”
“So you think Meka was going down there to lean on the bank trying to find out who the account holder is?”
Steve doesn’t reply and suddenly Danny gets it. “You think Meka was the account holder?”
“Look Danny, I’m just saying all the evidence points to Meka being dirty.”
“Fuck the evidence,” Danny spit out angrily. He can’t believe Steve’s still going there. “I knew Meka. He wasn’t dirty. He’s the one friend I’ve made on this godforsaken miserable island.”
He hears a sharp intake of breath from Steve’s end of the line and feels darkly satisfied by that. Of course he’d come to think of Steve as a friend, too - well, actually he’d come to think of Steve as a bit more than a friend--but right now he feel betrayed and angry and he wants Steve to hurt too.
“You know what?” He informs Steve furiously. “If my word isn’t good enough for you, I’m done with this.”
And with that, he hangs up on the stupid ex-SEAL.
continue here