I fail at updating. I'm sorry. I appreciate everyone that's hung in there. Thank you so very much for reading this.

There is action to come, I swear.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Contrary to what Danny may say, Steve is a patient man. He is perfectly capable of biding his time, of employing discretion and discipline. True, treading lightly has never been his style, but Steve also happens to be a results-driven man. Sometimes, doors simply must be kicked down and people need to be dangled over buildings, and if the end justifies the means Steve is more than willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done.

This thing with Danny, however, requires a much more subtle approach. Steve is fully aware of this. If there's one thing that recent past weeks have demonstrated it's that the Lieutenant Commander's partner is fully prepared to keep going on like how he is, to continue on with this pretense that he's unaffected by young Ewa's death when it's clear that this whole Mahelona case has gotten under his skin. Steve's not an idiot; or at least no bigger an idiot than Danny if the detective thinks he's got his partner fooled. And while Steve may be more than a little tempted to force him into taking some time off, he knows such a move would be futile. More than likely, Danny would consider such an action a personal affront, a lack of confidence in his ability to get the job done. That's exactly how he'd seen it when the shit had hit the fan and Steve had first put the offer on the table, and McGarrett knows with absolute certainty that Danny's opinion still hasn't changed on the matter.

So Steve is quite willing to quietly sidestep any potential confrontation in the making and take the high road with this. He won't force his partner into talking to him.

But blackmail? An entirely different story altogether.

Steve can't help but smile a little at himself when he pulls up to Grace's school. It's early yet but he doesn't mind. He settles back and waits; he knows it won't be long.

Sure enough, there's a knock on his window less than fifteen minutes later.

He rolls down his window with a cheery grin as he faces a surly-faced Danny.

"Danno," Steve greets heartily. "You made it here in good time."

Danny grits his teeth upon hearing his partner use Grace's nickname for him, but he recovers quickly. "Steven, just what exactly are you doing at my daughter's school, on a Friday, otherwise known as my weekend with her?" The detective's voice is clipped with annoyance. "And don't feed me any crap, or so help me God-"

"Danno!"

Danny turns around at the voice, a wide grin on his face, body language instantly changing from stiff to welcoming as he drops to one knee and opens his arms to engulf his daughter as she rushes up to him. Grace is likewise beaming, obviously excited to see her father.

"Monkey," Danny says warmly, planting a kiss on the top her head. "I missed you so much!" He ruffles her hair softly and then smoothes it back down again, tucking an errant strand behind her ear. His smile is for her alone.

Steve can't quell the warmth that he feels spread in his chest at the sight of his partner doting on his daughter. He gets out of his truck, smiling, and Grace looks up.

"Uncle Steve!" she exclaims, happy. "You came too?"

"You bet I did, Gracie," he says and bends down to give Danny's daughter a hug of his own. It's not often Steve gets to spend time with children, and seeing his partner with Grace tugs at something within him, makes him wonder if fatherhood is something that will ever happen to him one day. He never used to think about these kinds of things, he realizes.

He doesn't mind that he does now, sometimes.

Danny has changed Steve's life in more than a couple ways since he'd roped the detective into becoming his partner. His daughter has left no less of an imprint, even if it's something he's never admitted to. He's pretty sure Danny can tell, anyway. He knows his daughter better than anyone, after all. If anyone can tell how special Grace is, it's her father.

Danny straightens up, lays his hand on Grace's shoulder. She looks up at her father expectantly. "Yes, honey," Danny says. "Steve came, too. Left the office early and everything, not a word to anyone. What a surprise, right?" The detective shoots his partner a meaningful look, one that his daughter can't see. "Just to say a quick hi to you, but Steve's a very busy man-"

"Danny," Steve teases, cutting him off. "I can't believe you'd forget about our plans for this weekend." He hunkers down and stoops eye level with Grace, winking. "I bet you'd like to hear about them."

Grace looks up at Danny with hope, sliding her hand into his. "Does this mean you're not working this weekend, then?"

Danny opens his mouth, but Steve steps in once again.

"You bet, Grace," he tells her. "How would you like it if you and Danno were to spend the weekend at my place? I have a stack of movies, about ten pounds of popcorn, and a freezer full of ice cream. And there is no possible way I can eat all of it myself."

Grace is practically bouncing on her toes as she stares at her father beseechingly. "Can we? Please?" she implores.

Danny starts to shake his head. "Grace, I'm sure Steve is very busy, and-"

"Oh, no. I'm not busy too busy at all," Steve says smoothly. "I mean, what with all the overtime we've been putting in over these past weekends and all, I'd actually say we're ahead of schedule. Wouldn't you, Danno?"

McGarrett's tone is light, but his voice is couched with meaning. Danny darts a quick glance at him before glancing away, blanching slightly.

"Come on, partner," Steve cajoles. "Don't make a liar out of me."

The words are like a punch, packed with insinuation, and Danny swallows and looks back down at his daughter, who is still pleading with her eyes. He sighs a little but the smile is carefully arranged back on his face.

"You have your weekend bag, honey?"

Grace holds up her Barbie backpack. She's so excited she has to visibly bite her tongue while she waits for her father's verdict. Finally, Danny nods. "Okay, looks like we'll be moving the slumber party to Uncle Steve's." Grace lets out an excited squeal as she throws her arms around Danny's waist before skipping ahead to the Camaro, leaving Steve and Danny in her wake as they follow after her.

"Okay, Steven, what is this?" Danny asks his partner in a low tone, keeping his eyes on Grace as they walk.

Steve shrugs noncommittally. "Consider it a thank you for all those extra hours you've been putting in on those stakeouts with me these last few weekends."

Danny sighs again, louder. When he speaks, he sounds resigned. "You've been talking to Rachel." It's not a question. "You had no right to go behind my back like that and talk to my ex-wife. You know that, right?"

Steve shakes his head. "I did no such thing but thanks for the assumption, all the same. She called me, Danno."

"Stop calling me-"

McGarrett cuts him off by stopping in his tracks and grabbing Danny's elbow. "No," he hisses, forceful but low enough to keep Grace from overhearing. "You stop, Danny. Stop lying to cover your tracks. I don't know what this is that you're doing, but you're worrying your daughter, worrying Rachel." He pauses for a brief second. "Not to mention your team."

Danny's face goes hard, his gaze stony. "You still had no right to come here like this," he growls, jerking his arm out of Steve's grasp. "Contrary to what you believe, this isn't your business, Steven."

"It is when I'm getting calls from Rachel, nearly in tears," Steve retorts, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. "I know that you're hardly seeing Grace these days, that you're blowing off your weekends with her. When you implicate your own partner in the lies you're telling your ex and your daughter, it becomes my business, Danny. I don't know what the hell is going on with you." He cocks his head. "Actually, yes, I do. And come Monday, we're going to deal with this once and for all. But for now, we're going to have a nice weekend with Grace, even if it means I have to keep you both in my sights just to make sure you don't bail on her."

Danny is furious, and he leans closer to his partner. The look on his face is damn near dangerous.

"Don't you ever accuse me of bailing on my daughter again."

With that, the detective turns and stalks to the Camaro and his waiting daughter. "We'll see you at your house, Steven," he says over his shoulder. "You can tail me if you're worried that I'm a flight risk."

Steve briefly considers it.

As far as evenings spent in the company of a lovely female go, this one rates pretty damn high in Steve's books. This is, of course, in spite of the fact he is not accustomed to that company being an eight-year-old girl. In fact, he is much more familiar with an entirely different type of female company altogether.

This doesn't stop him from smiling, watching Grace as she doggedly attempts to toss kernels of popcorn into her father's open mouth. The tension from earlier had quickly drained away as the evening progressed, the infectious enthusiasm and joy effused by the eight year old diffusing the hard feelings between the partners.

"Now Steven," Danny turns to his partner, talking around a freshly thrown piece of popcorn he's caught in his mouth. "Did you know that Grace here has been training with the Nets?" He points at his face as he chews. "How else can she get in so many shots in a row?"

"It's because your mouth's so big," Grace giggles, then squeals as her father wiggles his fingers, menacing.

"Oh, really? Is that a fact?" he asks as he laughs and tickles her, narrowly avoiding her wildly kicking feet. Grace shrieks with delight. Peals of girlish laughter fill Steve's living room, making the place seem more alive than it's been in a long, long time.

Steve turns his gaze back to the tv screen, blinking quickly, and if his eyes are stinging just a little Danny doesn't call him on it.

Danny's snoring by the time the movie is over, a nearly full beer bottle held loosely in one hand, perched precariously on his thigh. Steve reaches out and gingerly plucks the bottle out of peril, half expecting his partner to wake up and tell him to get his ass up and get his own beer. Danny doesn't though, doesn't even so much as stir as he sleeps on.

Steve looks at Grace and winks conspiratorially at her. "What do you think, Grace? Is it past the old man's bedtime? Should we send him off to bed?"

Grace considers it sagely but shakes her head, hair swinging.

"Nah," she says with a smile. "He looks comfy. Let's leave him." She adjusts the blanket she and Danny are sharing, pulling it higher up on her father's lap. Steve gets up and turns out the only lamp on in the room, then detours into the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later, bearing a fresh bowl of popcorn and a can of soda. He offers the beverage to Grace, who eyes it with longing.

"Danno doesn't let me drink soda after dinner," she says a little morosely. "He says it'll make my teeth fall out and stunt my growth."

"Well then, I guess it's a good thing that Danno's rules don't apply in my house," Steve tells Grace with a mischievous smirk. "So I think we've outvoted him. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him." He flicks a glance over at his slumbering partner, tilting his head in that direction for emphasis as he opens the can and offers it again to Grace. She doesn't need any further encouragement to take it this time.

Steve settles back, Danny's beer now claimed as his own. "So what's next on the agenda?" he asks. "Madagascar? Or Toy Story 2?"

Grace mulls it over for a few moments, undecided. "What time is bedtime?" she finally asks.

Steve grins, knowing what she's going to suggest. Smart kid.

"Whenever you want, Gracie. You're the one calling the shots."

This pleases Grace immensely. "Then…both?"

"You got it, boss."

Not even halfway into the second movie, Steve is carrying a sleeping Grace up the stairs to the guest room. When he tucks her in and settles her favorite stuffed animal – a purple lion with one of its button eyes missing – under her arm, Grace murmurs in her sleep a little. As he draws the blankets up over her shoulders, her voice is whisper-soft.

"Good night, Uncle Steve."

Steve smoothes her hair back gently, smiling to himself.

It sure was.

It's not quite three in the morning when Danny starts screaming bloody murder. Steve bolts upright and is out of the bed and down the stairs before he even registers that he's holding his gun in his hand. It's an involuntary reaction, and a needless one it turns out because Danny's yelling in his sleep, not being attacked. It's a nightmare, and a rather vicious one by the sounds of it.

Steve's down on his knees beside the couch in less than a second, trying to get a firm grip on his partner's flailing limbs.

"Danny. Danny, wake up!"

"Stop! Stop shooting!" Danny keeps screaming, oblivious to his partner's presence. One fist gets free from Steve's grasp and strikes a glancing blow on his chin. The punch is uncoordinated and loose but it catches the Lieutenant Commander off guard, throwing him back on his haunches momentarily. It's then, when Steve is blinking the small bursts of light out of his field of vision, that he hears Grace's terrified voice.

"Danno!" she cries, and suddenly she's right there throwing her arms around her father's neck before Steve can even think to stop her. Whether it's the sound of her voice or the feel of her arms around Danny that does the trick Steve isn't sure, but it works like a bucket of ice water. Danny suddenly goes completely still, panting a little. The expression on his face goes from confused to mortified before he sits himself up in a hurry.

"Grace?" he asks, voice a little breathy. "What's wrong, Monkey? Everything okay?"

"You were having a bad dream," Grace tells him somberly. "Are you okay? It sounded scary."

Danny is quiet a moment, but he runs his hand through his hair. Steve recognizes the gesture as the giveaway it is: Danny's agitated, distressed. The detective is fast at pulling it together, however, and thankfully in time before his daughter can pick up on it. Quick as a thought, Danny's smiling at his daughter as he takes one of her hands and playfully swings it just a tiny bit.

He ducks his head so that he's eye level with Grace. "Hey," he says softly, draws her in and kisses the top of her head. "Danno's fine, honey. Danno's just fine. I'm sorry I woke you up. Come on, let's get you back upstairs and into bed." He throws off the blanket Grace had carefully arranged over him earlier and moves to get up, but Steve reaches out and gives him a firm and very meaningful pat on the shoulder.

"What, and rob me of my duties as Uncle Steve?" he chides. "Unless you think I'm not worthy of tucking your daughter back into bed?"

Danny ticks an eyebrow, a corner of his mouth turning up in appreciation. He looks over at his Grace, adopting a serious expression and lowering his voice to match. "I don't know, honey. What do you think? I'll let you be the judge of that."

Grace looks up at Steve, uncertainty clouding her eyes. She's obviously torn, so Steve makes it easy for her by sweeping her up in his arms with a wide, disarming smile. "Come on, Gracie," he teases lightly. "I thought we were having such a good time together. Don't make me drag you by force, now." With that, he swings her over his shoulder and Gracie lets out a little squeal of delight as Steve pretends to laugh maniacally. He treks up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Steve's demeanor instantly changes from playful to quiet as he carries her to the guest room and carefully lowers her off his shoulder and into the bed. Pulling up the covers over her, he gives her a reassuring grin.

"Now sleep tight. Okay, Grace?"

Grace nods; the humor has left her expression. "Uncle Steve?" she asks, timid. "Will you give this to Danno?" She holds out her stuffed animal. "It helps me when I have bad dreams."

Steve takes the lion, nodding gently. "That's very nice of you, Gracie. I'm sure your dad will appreciate it."

Danny's daughter suddenly looks older and wiser than her scant eight years. She looks up at Steve with a quiet, complete trust, her eyes clear and guileless. It twists his gut just a little bit to think she has such confidence in him.

"I'm glad you're here to look after him," she tells Steve in a whispery voice before she rolls over and closes her eyes.

Grace drops off to sleep right away, leaving Steve to stand there and reflect on the gravity of her words.

Danny is sitting up on the couch, hands rubbing his face wearily, blanket askew around his feet. Steve takes a seat next to him but is careful to sit at the furthest edge of the couch in an effort to leave the detective some breathing room. From there, Steve simply clasps his hands and leans forward, gazing at the darkness that peeps between the partially drawn curtains of his living room window.

It's a brief silence only, because before long Danny's looking over at Steve ruefully. "So," he begins, voice wry. "I'm sure you can guess why I've been on so many stakeouts lately." He twists his mouth into a bitter smile at the blatant mention of his cover story, shaking his head. "When given the choice between bailing on my child or waking her up in the dead of night with my screaming – which is incredibly emasculating, I can now add from experience, thanks to you – I will generally go for door number one."

Steve flinches at the clear incrimination in Danny's words as the detective flings the Lieutenant Commander's earlier accusation back in his face, and he looks over to his partner in earnest apology. "Danny, I didn't mean any harm by any of this."

"No," Danny says flatly. "You took it on yourself to supervise me being a parent to my daughter. You babysat me, Steve. But you didn't mean any harm, of course not." He shrugs. "Although, I would have vastly preferred it if you could have trusted that I always –and I mean always- keep my daughter's best interests at heart. Or maybe if you would have just come out and asked me what was going on after you talked to Rachel-"

Steve cuts Danny off before he can even finish the sentence.

"No, Danny. I couldn't have asked you. You've been a little tight-lipped these past few weeks. You know that, don't you? I mean, the other night when Rachel called me? When we were at the bar? I think that's the closest you've been to being yourself since the Mahelona bust," he pauses, swallowing. "Since the shooting."

Danny glances at Steve out of the corner of his eye, and McGarrett knows that his partner won't even try to dispute him on that point. The detective doesn't say anything, which Steve takes as tacit consent to continue. He forges on, tentative but firm. "And for the record, getting a phone call from your partner's ex-wife, in distress, is a little unnerving. So you're welcome that I didn't blow your cover on you right there on the spot. Furthermore, you implicated me in your little fabrication, so you got me involved first." Steve pauses for a moment, gauging Danny's reaction, expecting him to balk at his words. The detective surprises him by shifting his gaze to the floor, the fire leeching right out of him, leaving him slouched and wan. Steve shifts, sitting so he's facing Danny a little more.

"Danny, you may think that I orchestrated this weekend as a means of babysitting you, but in fact I did it so that I could have your back. You do know that, don't you? That I've got your back on this? Chin and Kono…we all do."

Steve's partner looks both repentant and humbled, which isn't a sight he's used to seeing. He decides to push his luck a little further. "Okay, so now I understand why you aren't eager to have Grace spending the night at your place these days. But just how have you been having these nightmares?" Because God, they sound horrific.

Danny chuckles roughly, seeming to deflate a little. "Every night for, ah, I'd say about the last forty five nights sounds about right. Coffee is a miraculous thing."

Steve's chest constricts in sympathy for his partner. He knows that Danny was decimated that day, being so close but not close enough to do anything for Ewa. Thinking about it still wrenches him.

He doesn't doubt that the detective is absolutely heartbroken over it.

"There was nothing you could have done, Danny," he says, giving voice to his thoughts.

Danny slumps a little before he responds. He looks tired, drawn out. "Maybe not," he says without much conviction. He sniffs and takes a shuddery breath before he meets eyes with Steve. His expression softens. "So am I to take it this is you apologizing for giving away my big secret?"

The detective's smile is tenuous and wavers just a little, but it gives Steve an inexplicable rush of relief. He offers Danny a grin of his own. "Whatever gets you through the day, partner," he tells him. "And Danny?"

"Hmm?"

"We'll get Mahelona, you know. We'll finish it."

If Danny takes any comfort from Steve's conviction, he doesn't show it. His expression is impossible to read, but his stare is open and honest, mildly implacable.

"Of that I have no doubt, Steven," he assures McGarrett. "But that doesn't bring a dead girl back to life."

The rest of the weekend passes without any further incident. Danny makes sure of this by setting his alarm on his phone to wake him once every hour for the next two nights Grace is with him. Sure, he's so tired he's practically dragging his feet but it's a measure worth taking. All it takes is a couple more cups of coffee under his belt, and if Grace is none the wiser for any of it then it's a good deal for Danny. For his part, Steve is an excellent host and he keeps Grace happily entertained and has no problem diverting her attention when her father's energy begins to flag.

Throughout the rest of the weekend, Steve is happy to note, Danny's spirits remain up. He really hopes this means Danny's turned a corner.

On the drive to Grace's school that Monday morning, Steve behind the wheel of Danny's Camaro, it really does look like the detective has indeed done just that. Danny's relaxed in the passenger seat, looking back at his daughter in the backseat, beaming hugely. Steve feels any tension in his neck and shoulders melt away at the sound of them laughing together. Outside, it's another perfect Hawaiian morning in Oahu. The sun is shining, the traffic is surprisingly light, and the Lieutenant Commander would be perfectly happy to let this moment stretch out for as long as he possibly can. He eases off on the gas, earning a pointed sideways glance from his partner.

"Steven," he says as he eyeballs the speedometer. "I don't think I've ever seen you drive the legal limit."

Steve shoots an incredulous glare. "You think I'd actually speed with your daughter in the car?"

Danny throws his hands up. "What? I'm just stating an observation of a very rare event." Grace giggles in the backseat, and Steve catches her eye in the rearview mirror. Even as he does so, Danny's cell phone rings. He glances at the name of the incoming caller flashing on the screen before he lifts it to his ear.

"Chin Ho," he greets. The smile on Danny's face disappears the following moment, and a frown begins to crease his forehead. "Are you sure?" the detective demands, then listens for another beat. He's suddenly intense and focused, and Steve feels the adrenaline already kicking in, because his partner's jaw is clenched and his face is stormy.

"We're on our way," Danny barks into the phone, catching Steve's eye meaningfully as he hangs up. Steve responds by pressing down harder on the accelerator, because he's just been given implicit permission to speed.

"What's going on?" Steve asks sharply, adjusting his hold on the steering wheel slightly.

"It's Grace's school," Danny answers. "There's been an attack. Kono's meeting us there; Chin is on his way to the safehouse Kali's being held at. He wants to talk to Chin, and he's made it pretty clear it has to do with this."

Steve flicks another glance in the rearview mirror at Grace in the backseat. She's looking at her father, wide-eyed and fearful.

"Danno?" she asks in a high, soft voice.

Danny immediately twists around in the passenger seat so he can fix his daughter with a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Monkey," he says in an encouraging tone. "We have to check this out, but I promise you'll be safe, alright?"

Grace nods, her lower lip trembling just a little.

Steve exhales slowly through his nose.

There goes that perfect Oahu morning.