Familiar Enemies
by Lirulin

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, all is property of CBS.

I found a prompt by laceymcbain on gyzym's livejournal, and could not resist writing this. So credit for the awesome prompt – which I'll give at the end – goes to laceymcbain. It was supposed to be this short little story, but then Danny kind of hijacked my brain and it turned into almost 7.000 words of rambling and ranting.

So, there's a warning right here: Nothing of this is no be taken seriously at all, it's solely written for fun and to hear Danny rant. Oh, and it's probably pre-slash because I can't seem to write them any other way.

The first time it happens, Danny thinks nothing of it. It's just your usual Wednesday, busting the drug-runner of the week before lunch, attempting to restrain himself from cuffing Steve to his desk so that he'll do his own damn paperwork for once – Danny absolutely refuses to come up with a believable reason for why they need new ammo again after they'd gotten the amount HPD uses in half a year only three weeks ago, no, Mr. Shoot-first-and-ask-questions-never can do that all by himself, Danny's got nothing to with this – and then having to go out again to actually question someone in a rational manner so that perhaps, if they are very lucky, their case might be admissible in court. Of course it's just his luck that now even their witnesses go ballistic on them and they end up in a shoot-out again, and how is this his life, that's what he wants to know. He'd pay money for someone to tell him!

So yeah, people shooting at Steve – and at him, let's not forget that, it's a very important point because he likes being alive and would want to stay that way for the foreseeable future if only to tell Steve repeatedly and in excruciating detail how all of this was, is, and will always be his fault in every way imaginable, and seriously, would it hurt him to once, just once, think before he whips out his weapon, and whatever, perhaps Danny should be grateful he didn't bring his uzi or his rocket launcher – anyway, people shooting at Steve is not a surprise. Danny might say it has become normal, but he's not going there because if he admits it even to himself he'll need more therapy than there's ever to be had on the islands!

And if he notices that the angle of this one shot is somewhat strange and that it cannot really have come from the guy and his friend they've been firing at, it's such a fleeting thought that it's gone again before he can grasp it, and then he has better things to do like yelling at Steve and making him book the assholes because Danny can't be bothered to because it's 8 PM and he wants to go home sometime today alright, and maybe phone his mom because it's her birthday and even though it's the middle of the night in Jersey, not phoning will be worse than waking her up, and he is not in the mood for one of his mom's rants come tomorrow, it always feels as if she's about to crawl through the phone and wave her Finger of Doom in his face, and of course he couldn't call this morning because Steve was banging at his door at 6 AM because of said stupid Wednesday drug-runner!

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The second time is a bit harder to ignore because Danny's right there only a few feet away, and why can't anything ever be simple, not even getting malasadas?! He's finally, finally, after constant and unrelenting – not nagging, because what? He's not some old grandmother, honestly, he doesn't nag, he's going to call it persuasive argumentation, he's gotten Steve to come to Liliha Bakery with him, and he's going to exploit it and make this health-freak Carb-is-my-Nemesis try everything they have!

And so what if it's dark outside already and they arrive just before closing-time because there's no rule that says you can only eat bakery stuff in the morning, and if someone told him there was, he'd shoot them. Not in the face, he's not sadistic or over the top or anything, just in the kneecap or the foot or so. Anyway, he's still inside the bakery, talking to the nice lady running it because you should always make nice with your baked-goods-dealer, and Steve's of course outside, tapping his foot or decoding secret intelligence chatter or searching for terrorists or whatever else he does when he's bored and doesn't get it into his head that being social, being friendly actually means talking to people, normal every-day people, from time to time, when there's the loud screeching of tires.

Danny whirls around only to see a car jumping the curb and coming right at Steve who – in a move so impossible that Danny detachedly wonders if his partner isn't Batman after all – vaults himself out of the way, executes an elaborate roll and comes up with his gun drawn and ready, but the car's long gone by then. After a long second of being frozen in place Danny drops his bag and races outside, his heart beating as if it wants to jump out of his chest, coming to stand in front of Steve and looking him over frantically, just barely restraining himself from patting at him to make sure he is fine.

"Are you ok?"

Steve still has his gun raised, but after a few more seconds of staring down the road with his aneurism face firmly in place he finally blinks, re-holsters his weapon and then looks at Danny with what can only be called confusion. And Danny can understand it, really, because while he would love to transform this moment of utter, mind-numbing panic into soothing, calming anger, he can't because for once nothing of this was Steve's fault. At least as far as he can tell.

They've pissed off no one more than the usual amount and there's been no indication during the last two days – going further back would be ridiculous, there are simply too many people with a grudge against Steve, the man is a walking menace after all – of anyone seriously wanting to… to kill him and actively planning it. Steve shakes his head at Danny and fends of his hands. Funny, Danny didn't realize he started running his hands down Steve's arms after all.

"I'm fine. Let's go."

Danny takes a moment to gather his thoughts and then hurries after Steve who is already halfway to the car.

"Go? Go where? Do you know something I don't? Did you shoot someone's puppy and didn't tell me? Is this a revenge thing?"

Steve just rolls his eyes which is so, so typical! Whenever he doesn't know what to say he resorts to this face-making of his which would be stupid if it wasn't so endearing. Turns out they're going to headquarters because Steve, ninja-SEAL that he is, of course remembers the plates. But this is of exactly zero use because they only lead to a rental company at the airport and really, why is Danny even surprised? It's not as if things are ever easy for them.

The rentee's information is – naturally – fake, Danny would have known that even without checking it up because seriously, who is called Cyrano Mountbatton? And the only thing the rental car lady can tell them is that the customer spoke with a Jersey accent and that, ok that is not helpful at all, no it is not because Steve gets this grin that Danny just knows is saying, 'See, there's nothing but crazy people in Jersey, why would you ever want to go back there?'. And Danny would really like to tell him that it's got nothing to do with Jersey and everything to do with Steve who obviously infects everyone he comes into contact with with his special brand of violence-inducing madness, even the bad guys, there can be no other explanation, but he doesn't because he's a nice guy and Steve was almost run over by a freaking car – a Peugeot to boot! – and perhaps, perhaps if Danny reaches deep enough into the goodness of his heart, he can acknowledge Steve doesn't need a rant right now.

He's not forgetting it, of course, he can't let Steve get away with his silent Jersey-bashing after all, but tomorrow is early enough to enter into round 468 of the Educate-Steve-in-the-many-ways-of-his-crazy-battle. Anyway, he's tired, he didn't get his malasadas and his cocoa puffs after all – and if he hadn't seen the genuine astonishment on Steve's face he would suspect that his partner had orchestrated the whole thing to scare him out of his love for the heavenly pastries, but even Mr. Sugar-will-kill-you-if-I-don't-first-with-a-hand-grenade probably knows by now not to mess with Danny's sweets, and if he ever did he'd have a whole other thing coming where cars wanting to bowl him over would be the least of his worries – and Gracie is coming tomorrow, so Danny still has to clean up his shithole of an apartment and come up with some plans as to what they could do. It looks as if they're not going to find this Cyrano guy, and Steve is alright, and as Danny steadfastly refuses to think of him as anything else than ok, it might perhaps be best to shelve the whole thing for the moment.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Danny is not there for the third time and only learns of it when a guy with a bloody nose is dragged into HQ by a mostly bemused-looking Steve. He comes out of his office and looks at his partner questioningly who of course only raises an eyebrow in answer. Heaven forbid he'd use actual words to explain himself! As if it's a perfectly normal, everyday thing to punch people in the nose – Danny has no doubts that it was Steve's doing – and bring them to HQ when they're not even having a case! The man is literally quivering in his boots and dripping blood all over their floor, and Danny has no trouble at all imagining in vivid detail how he got that way.

"What?! What is this now, Steven?! Can't you even go on a simple pizza run without catching a smuggler or an arms dealer or whoever the hell that is? What happened? Who is this? Did you bring him in for booking? Because let me tell you this right now, I'm not doing it. I'm still trying to rephrase 'the suspect was cuffed to a gas tank which was subsequently threatened to be incinerated by the task force leader'. You should be thanking me on your knees that I'm always doing your paperwork for you! Do you really think you'd still have your immunity and means if you'd have to do this stuff yourself?!"

Steve's smiling now, that goofy smile that lights up his whole face and that Danny most decidedly does not find adorable – and honestly, how can he even think that without cringing? – and Danny wonders what happens to his words between leaving his mouth and reaching Steve's ears. Because that… that goof obviously doesn't hear what he's saying. Or hears something completely different. Who should know how Steve's brain processes things? Steve jostles the guy a bit, never stopping to smile.

"He's not a smuggler. At least I don't think so. He tried to brain me with a glass ashtray at the pizza place."

Danny blinks. And then blinks again for good measure, for long seconds actually lost for words. He's come to expect a lot, alright? Grenades in his car, dead bodies on a hike, helicopter chases, you name it, they've got it. But this? You have to be a special kind of reckless to attack Steve at all when you're unarmed, but attempting to bash his head in with an ashtray?! In a packed restaurant?! For a moment, Danny asks himself if it's finally happened. If he's finally fallen into this alternate reality he's been suspecting of lurking around the corner ever since he arrived here, the reality where the sky is pink and little unicorns vomit glitter and rainbows and where people attack Steve with ridiculous weapons just so he can be happy and beat them up!

The guy doesn't say much in interrogation, even with Steve and Danny both looming over him – and yes, thank you very much, Danny is indeed capable of looming, size has nothing to do with it – which means he's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, but there's not much they can do. He didn't actually hurt Steve, didn't even manage to touch him apparently, so it wouldn't be more than attempted battery if Steve decided to file charges which he probably won't do because as far as Danny can tell, he's more amused than anything else, so they let him go after a few hours and everything should be alright.

Except that it isn't. Ok, so it isn't all that strange that random people try to attack Steve, even if this has to be the silliest method Danny's ever heard of, but what is strange is that the guy is from Jersey as well, just as their mystery driver. Danny might say it's a coincidence and stranger things have happened – like his uncle and aunt meeting friends they hadn't seen in twenty years during a vacation in China of all places – if, yes if he didn't have this weird feeling of knowing Steve's attacker.

The name – Gordon Brown, perfectly normal, perfectly generic – doesn't ring any bells, but there's still this vague nagging at the back of his head that he's seen him somewhere before. He can't grasp where or how or when, and it's driving him crazy, but there's nothing to be done about it. He can only try to forget it and to put it down as just another of the impossible, hare-brained things regularly happening around Steve which he knows he won't manage to do because he's sure something is going on and he hates it that he can't figure out what.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

By the fourth time it can't be called a coincidence anymore, not even when wearing the rosiest of all rose-colored glasses. Alright, so Danny thought the ashtray was the most bizarre he'd see in ways attempting to off Steve. Turns out there's always someone crazier out there, and he really should know better by now. But seriously, what kind of deranged personality does it take to come up with the idea of dropping an overhead projector on someone's head to kill them?!

One moment they are walking along the street towards Kamekona's shave ice stand – for once just for an ice, not for information – and arguing about whether it is appropriate to wake somebody at seven on a Saturday morning to go running with you – which, no Steven, is not alright, we can't all be hyperactive hummingbirds with enough energy to power a small town – and then Danny stops to retie his shoelaces, and the next moment there's a whistling noise from above, and Steve flings himself aside, and then there's an overhead projector shattered into a thousand pieces on the sidewalk.

They get their would-be assassin when he tries to flee the building because it's quite obvious that someone throwing an overhead projector at another person can never be smart enough to escape them and haul him down to the palace where things proceed to get truly grotesque. Danny's almost expecting it, but it still hits him hard when Benjamin Smith turns out to be from Jersey as well. He actually zones out for a few minutes, and it's only Steve's hand on his shoulder and Steve's worried face in front of him that bring him back to reality. What is going on, is what he wants to know. Has the entire criminal population of New Jersey conspired to come to Hawaii? Have they read about 5-0 and decided, hey, there's a cop from Jersey on it, let's go make him feel right at home by killing his partner? This is not funny anymore! And what's even worse is that he feels he should know what this is about. As if he's got the key, but can't find the lock to fit it into. Or the other way round? A lock with no key? Whatever, he was never good at this metaphor stuff.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Fifth time finally is the charm, and Danny can't believe that he didn't see it sooner, and really how, how is this his life?! What's he done to deserve this?! It's their day off and Steve – through bribery via éclairs and puppy dog eyes – has managed to drag Danny to the golf course. Danny is certain that he's getting soft, that Steve's insanity is finally starting to wear him down because really, what's he doing playing golf? It's not even a sport, it's just hitting a stupid white ball and then running after it! And it's his luck of course that all of his balls land in sand pits or underneath some bushes, and Steve, the perfect asshole with his perfect tees and perfect curves – did they teach that in SEAL school as well? – is leaning on his golf club and laughing his head off which Danny does not find funny at all.

"Will you stop that? I'm sacrificing my Sunday, coming with you to this golf club I don't even want to know how you got inside, whacking at little white balls that I'm sure are deliberately mocking me, listening to you go on and on and on about your Marquis and you're laughing at me?! I deserve a medal, is what I do! I'm doing a public service here because let's be honest, we both know what you'd've done if I hadn't deigned to go with you. You'd've blown up the island or started an international incident by scaling an embassy or whatever!"

Steve just laughs harder, and Danny manfully resists the urge to hit him over the head with his club. He'd hate to have to explain to Kono and Chin how their boss ended up in the hospital with brain damage and the paperwork that would follow is likely not worth the brief satisfaction it would give him.

"You deigned, Danno? Did I miss your coronation? Should I call you your Highness now? And anyway, if you don't want to talk about the Marquis, we could always talk about the underworld of Jersey being after my hide. Is there something you want to tell me perhaps? Did you piss someone off and this is their idea of vengeance now?"

Danny pales a bit at that and turns away quickly because that's one topic he wants to talk about even less than car parts. The idea of someone – a whole group of someones – being after Steve makes his blood run cold, and the fact that he still hasn't figured out what it is that he is sure he knows also sits very uneasy with him. He must've tensed up a bit because suddenly Steve's right there behind him, right in his space, putting his hands on Danny's shoulders, and it'd be scary how well Steve can read him if it wasn't so comforting.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm sure it's nothing. It was almost funny, right? Now come on, try again. You're always hitting too hard."

Steve moves away again, now standing next to the small pond Danny's last ball has fallen into while Danny attempts to concentrate because even golf is better than thinking about all these… these incidents.

It happens way too fast after that, and the only explanation he can find for why Steve doesn't notice it sooner is that he must've been very focused on something else, even though Danny has no idea what it could've been, but there's a rustling in the bushes next to them, and then someone comes barreling out, right into Steve, pushing him into the pond and then hightailing it. Danny reacts completely on instinct, flinging his club away and sprinting after the fleeing man. In a move that's more Steve-like than anything else – and he'll never admit that to anyone, not even to himself, not if he wants to keep his self-respect – he tackles the perp to the ground, turns him around to get a look at him… and freezes, his world tilting sideways.

"Sonny?!"

Because that, right there on the ground with the split lip, is his cousin Sonny. His cousin who just pushed his partner into a pond at the golf course. And the freak has the audacity to grin at him!

"Hey Danny! What sup?! You alright man?"

Suddenly, the pieces click together and the whole… insanity makes a frightening amount of sense. And the words of a phone conversation he had a few weeks ago come back to him with startling clarity.

No, Uncle Vince, you're not getting it! It's not the normal irritations of the job! He's driving me crazy, I'm telling you, absolutely crazy! I'll end up in the loony bin before the year is out! Steve's a walking, talking time-bomb, and when he goes off, I'll be right there in the middle of it, blown to smithereens! Do you know what he did yesterday? Do you? See, we had this suspect, but he didn't want to talk to us, no surprises there, most people don't. And what does Steve do? Does he take him to HQ, let him sit in an interrogation room for a few hours? Does he perhaps let him know how much worse it'll be for him in prison if he doesn't cooperate with us? No! Because that would be easy, and SEALs don't do easy! So he throws him into the bed of his truck, drives with him out into the jungle and sits him down in an ant hill! An ant hill! Can you believe it?! All the while dragging me along because perish the thought that I'm not there to witness his grand techniques! If he doesn't get me killed one of these days, I'll be charged for police brutality! I don't deserve this, Uncle Vince, I don't! I'm a good cop, and I want to do a good job! I want to see Gracie grow up, finish high school, go to university! I want to walk her down the aisle! I don't want to die on this pineapple-loving rock in the middle of nowhere because of an OCD sailor who thinks shooting someone in the shoulder is proper social interaction!

Thinking about it now, Danny realizes that the first incident, the one he didn't even recognize as such at the time, the one with the weird angles on the shot, happened exactly five days after that phone call. He's pretty sure now what has happened, has been happening during the last few crazy weeks, and isn't that just great! Really, who needs enemies when you have family?!

He hauls Sonny to his feet, hissing at him while watching Steve, who has by now waded out of the pond again and looks for a all the world like a GQ wet model – and doesn't Danny hate him for it – out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you out of your freaking mind?! What are you doing here? And what are you doing?! You know, I've always told Uncle Vince it's a bad idea to let you play soccer! Who plays soccer anyway?! Seriously, you never had any coordination whatsoever, and do I have to remind you of the time you ran headfirst into the goalpost? And all those headers you always did, they've caused brain damage, I'm telling you, brain damage! There's no other explanation for why you are here, in Hawaii, pushing my partner into ponds at golf courses!"

He's started shaking Sonny, but Danny doesn't really care about it, it's not as if he can cause any more damage, and then abruptly lets go of him, causing him to slump back to the ground. Sonny looks up at him with genuine confusion, and Danny wants to punch him so much, it's only that his mom raised a polite boy who knows how to respect family and knows it's bad form to kill his own cousin with a pen.

"Danny, dad said… I thought…"

Danny raises his hand and makes a slashing, downward gesture, unmistakeably telling his cousin to shut the fuck up because he's not in the mood to hear any explanations from him now or ever, then repeats it for Steve who has come over to them, eyeing them both with obvious and blatant curiosity.

"Don't talk! Both of you! Just… And you, you stay right where you are, you hear me Sonny? Or I promise, I'll tell Aunt Maria it was you who ruined her favorite dress because you wanted to try out if you could use it as a parachute! She won't care it was 20 years ago, you and I both know that!"

He walks away then, until he's sure he's out of earshot of both of them, getting his phone out and scrolling through his contacts to a familiar number. It rings a few times until someone picks up.

Yes?

"Uncle Vince, hey. It's Danny. You know, your nephew who's wondering what his cousin is doing in Hawaii."

There's a small pause at the other end, and Danny consciously has to release the death grip he has on his phone, he doesn't want to break it again because this is his third phone in as many months, they simply don't have a high life expectancy which – wonder of wonders – is all Steve's fault again. Honestly, one was stolen by a monkey!

So… You met Sonny.

"Yes, I 'met' him, if you want to call it that. Do you know where I am? I am at a golf course. A golf course where your son has just tried to drown my partner in a two feet deep pond which would be funny because he obviously didn't know his target is a SEAL who can probably stay underwater for two hours and knit a sweater at the same time if it wasn't for what the fuck?! Why is Sonny trying to kill Steve?! And all the other guys?! I'm assuming you sent them, too!"

Danny, what is your problem? I'm taking care of things for you. You told me he was driving you crazy and that you feared for your life. It was obvious that you wanted help, Danny, and family always comes first. So I talked to some of my guys and sent them over to dispose of him for you. They didn't do a very good job of it, I know, and I am sorry for it.

Danny is gasping for air, almost not believing what he's hearing. Except that he is. This is his family after all, still half Italian and… well he's not about to let himself think about Uncle Vince's 'activities', it always makes him want to tear his hair out, but really! This is too much!

"What is wrong with you?! Did I say I wanted or needed help?! Did I say, 'Hey Uncle Vince, please murder my partner for me'?! Did I?! Because I think I'd remember if I'd done something like that! I was venting, for heaven's sake! You of all people should understand that, my ears are still ringing from that time Anna told you she wanted to be a burlesque dancer! You were ranting for two weeks straight about ungrateful children and failed upbringings and overly-indulgent aunties and the evil influence of the media and whatnot! Alright, I'll tell you this now as plainly as I can. I. Do. Not. Want. Steve. Dead. You understand me? So you can just call off anybody you still might have out here! And you should be grateful that I'm not arresting Sonny for assault!"

His uncle sighs audibly, and Danny tugs at his hair in agitation. He loves his family, he really does, all of them, and a remote part of him is even weirdly touched that his uncle is willing to look out for him, but this is ridiculous! He feels like a character in a bad mafia film, 'I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse' and all that, and isn't it sad that it really almost is like that?

Danny… I don't know what to say. I really thought you were in deep trouble over there, and your mother would never forgive me if something happened to you and I could have done something about it. We all just want you to be happy.

"I know that Uncle Vince, just please, promise me you'll not try to kill anyone again to make me happy without talking to me first, alright? Steve is a good partner, and I like working with him even if he makes me want to strangle myself with my own tie at least twice a day."

Well, I think I can do that. And I'm really sorry, Danny. I didn't want to cause difficulties for you… There's some noise in the background, and Danny can hear a familiar feminine voice saying something. Your Aunt Maria says hi and wants to know if you'll make it home for Christmas.

Danny shakes his head a little and chuckles ruefully. It seems that just like that, everything's ok again. And maybe it is, it's family after all, what can he say?

"Tell her hi back. I don't know about Christmas, have to see if and how long I get Grace and if I'll get enough time off. But I'll let you know. I have to go now, bye Uncle Vince."

He hangs up and sighs deeply, mentally preparing himself for what will come now because there's no question whatsoever that Steve will want to know what's going on and he won't take 'it's nothing, McGarrett' for an answer, not after he saw the way Danny treated Sonny, and isn't that just great, having to explain to your partner that half your family is basically the mob! But there's nothing for it, a Williams never quits, and if he has to go down he will do so kicking and screaming, so he squares his shoulders and walks back over to where Sonny is still sitting on the ground and where Steve stands with his arms crossed and his 'I want to know every tiny little detail or something's gonna get blown up' face on.

He points one finger at Sonny and then jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

"You, get out of here and go home. I'm sure Uncle Vince'll have some choice words for you. I don't want to see you again till I come over to Jersey the text time, you hear me?"

Sonny nods and scrambles away as quickly as he can, and then Danny takes another fortifying breath and faces Steve.

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Steve is watching Danny carefully, taking in the way he's pacing on the green and the way the arm not holding the phone is waving around frantically. He has seen his fair share of Danny-gestures, is pretty sure he can by now even accurately translate most of them, but never something quite like this, and he wants to know who his partner is talking to. He is sure it has something to do with the guy sitting on the ground a few feet away from him who pushed him into the pond and is now looking up at him from time to time fearfully, but he can't for the life of him figure out what. Sure, the last weeks have been a bit stranger than usual, what with the attempts on his life – although he wouldn't really call them attempts because they were nothing but ridiculous – but Danny seems truly agitated, and that just doesn't sit right with Steve. He doesn't particularly care that he got wet, but if this guy is the reason Danny is so out of it, he'll wish he'd never set foot on Hawaii.

He's been so caught up in imagining throwing the perp to the sharks – without the cage – that he only realizes Danny has finished his conversation when he returns to them, pointing a finger at the guy and sending him away. Now Steve is even more confused which he doesn't like at all because Danny doesn't let perps go just like that. And who is Uncle Vince?

Danny is standing in front of him now, and Steve is about to demand to know what the hell is going on when he takes a good look at his partner and stops short. Danny looks… if he didn't know better he'd say almost bashful. But this is Danny Williams who is as far from feeling any shame ever as a jellyfish is from dancing the hula, and it's such a foreign emotion on his face that it makes Steve feel strange, uncomfortable… even a bit insecure.

"Danny? What… What's going on?"

Danny's eyes skitter away from his own and he's rubbing his hands and biting his lip as if he's searching for words which – if Steve is completely honest with himself which he is trying to be from time to time – makes him a bit afraid because if there's anything Danny is never out of, it's words.

"Alright, about these assassination attempts or whatever they were... See, it's like this… My granddad's parents, on my mom's side, mind you, they came over from Italy, and you know how it is, big Italian families, they had lots of children, my granddad had lots of children, and now I have all these aunts and uncles and cousins and removed cousins and in-laws and whatever. You name it, I got it. Which is great, don't get me wrong, I love my family and we're usually all really close, it's just… Let's just say that some of them… alright, most of them… are involved in some… perhaps less than legal activities… and my Uncle Vincent, mom's brother, he's kind of… the one calling the shots? No, that sounds so cynic. He manages things. Oh, and that earlier, that was my cousin Sonny, Uncle Vince's son, and… yeah."

Steve needs a moment to process all of that and to understand what exactly Danny is getting at. His family is the mafia, is that what he's saying? It sounds so absurd that Steve scans his surroundings surreptitiously to make sure there's not someone with a camera hidden in the bushes somewhere, but Danny's face tells him it's the truth and not some kind of sick joke. Danny looks as if he almost expects Steve to arrest him any second for what he's told him, and Steve is blindsided by the sudden urge to hug his partner and to assure him that he'd never judge him for who his family is or what they do. He has to clench his hands to prevent himself from reaching out, and tries to focus on something else, latching onto the fact that he still doesn't understand what Danny's story has to do with anything.

"And? What was he doing here? And how is he connected to the other incidents?"

Danny relaxes minimally, for which Steve is grateful, and then scratches his head, blinking up at him sheepishly.

"Well… I might've… accidentally… put out a hit on you?"

And now it's Steve's turn to blink and be lost for words. Not that he's any good with words to begin with, but this? What do you say when your partner tells you he put a hit on you? Not that he cares all that much, it wasn't really serious after all, and he knows Danny would never hurt him.

"Huh."

"Huh? That's all you have to say, 'huh'? I'm telling you there are people out there – my family! – who want to kill you and you have nothing to add to that? I know you've developed the stoic army ranger thing to a whole art form, I'm sure you've been sitting in caves for weeks on end without speaking a word, but let me tell you Steven, I'm expecting a bit more here, ok? I'm not prepared to lay my family history out for you and not have you react in some kind of way because I, unlike you who'd probably communicate in grunts if you could get away with it, I like to hear people express themselves in actual sentences!"

There's the Danny he knows again, and Steve is surprised by how much the sight is a relief for him, and while he can't deny that he still wants to know how Danny managed to sic amateur killers on him, it's funnier to watch him get into rant mode. So he spreads his hands in a gesture he knows will rile Danny up even more and shrugs his shoulders.

"Navy, Danno. I was in the Navy. And what do you want me to say? Nothing happened. I'm guessing your phone call was about that and that there are no more people 'out there', so, yeah. It's fine."

Danny is poking him in the chest now, his other arm waving around so much that he almost hits Steve in the face, and Steve can't help grinning.

"Nothing happened?! What is the matter with you?! What kind of world are you living in? No, don't answer that, I don't even want to know! Sure, they were idiots, but they still tried to kill you! That's not nothing! And it's my fault because my uncle translated one of my – very legitimate, mind you – complaints about your violations of due process into a plea to get rid of you, and I didn't get it! And I still didn't get it even when I was certain I knew that one guy! So excuse me when I think it's a bit more than nothing! Excuse me when I'm a bit concerned about the thought that I might've accidentally gotten my partner killed!"

Steve frowns because this is once again going into a direction he doesn't like and grabs one of Danny's hands, causing him to stop and look up at Steve.

"Hey, it's not your fault, ok? You're not responsible when your uncle misunderstands you. And how could you have known what was going on? He didn't call you to tell you he sent some people out here, did he? Thought so. And anyway, you wouldn't have let me gotten killed."

Danny looks at him incredulously for a second, and Steve wonders if he's said something wrong, but then the tension goes out of him and he smiles.

"Yeah well, they weren't the brightest, were they. And Sonny… he's always had strange ideas. Honestly, I've no idea what he wanted to accomplish with that stunt! Anyway, let's get out of here. You need to put on dry clothes, and I need a beer to forget all of this insanity. At least it got me out of the golf! I'm not playing this with you ever again! Next time we're doing something I'm good at, baseball or so, and then I'll be the one laughing at you, you hear me? Because..."

Steve lets Danny's rant wash over him, happy that everything is normal again. And for all the words Danny is flinging at him, his eyes are saying even more. They're saying, 'I get it's not my fault, but I'm still sorry' and, 'I'm glad you're ok' and, 'Thank you'. And Steve's pretty much content with that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A week later, there's a postcard sitting on his desk when Steve comes into the office. It shows a cute little kitten, the words 'With heartfelt Apology' next to it. He looks around to see if any of his teammates are lurking nearby, wondering if this is some sort of joke, but there's no one there. So he picks up the card and turns it around, surprised to notice the stamp that tells him it's from New Jersey in the corner.

Dear Steven, it says, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for the inconveniences my boys have caused you and for the misunderstanding that resulted in these incidents. Danny has since explained the nature of your partnership more clearly, and I am sorry that I assumed you would be detrimental to my nephew's wellbeing. I would also like to extend an invitation to you on behalf of the whole family to come to our Christmas celebrations with Danny. We would all like to meet the man who has made Hawaii more bearable for him. Sincerely, Vincent Marino

Steve closes his eyes for a moment. This is the first time he's gone from being the object of a hit to being invited to a family gathering, but… Danny is an expert in expressing as much as twenty conflicting emotions in perhaps a minute, so it's no wonder his family is the same. And Steve has to admit that he would kind of like to meet the Williams clan, if only to hear the whole story of the parachuting dress. It's not that he wants to know where Danny comes from or who is important to him, no, not at all.

He'll have to see if he can't clear their schedules for Christmas…

The End

This was the prompt: It would also be kind of awesome to have Danny complaining to his family back home (Jersey mob/mafia) about Steve, and they assume this is code for "please take care of this guy for me" and then various people are trying to kill Steve in creative ways, and they're all from JERSEY, and Steve's all WTF?, and Danny's, um, I might have accidentally put out a hit on you? Sorry?

It's a tiny bit different from the prompt, but I had a lot of fun with this! Let me know what you think!