Danny Williams was led to his cell in wrist and ankle cuffs. All around him, curious inmates watched as the new blood was brought in and marched through the corridors and over the gantries.

He'd been set up, by someone in HPD who was actually the one taking bribes, no doubt. All the damning evidence had pointed to him, and there was nothing he could do to try and prove himself innocent to Internal Affairs. And God, how he'd tried. But someone in the great beyond was not on his side, and so he'd been tried and sentenced to twelve months imprisonment in Halawa prison. No one to defend him, no one to help him...

His partner, Meka Hanamoa, was on the outside, trying to work the case and find the evidence they needed to overturn his sentence, but it was a slow process and he had to be careful because whoever went after Danny when he got too close might go after Meka too. So he had to keep his distance and disassociate himself with Danny to stay on the force.

For all intents and purposes, he was alone. A good cop, a great cop, taken down in his prime, all because someone in the department was dirty, and misdirected all the evidence onto him. They were getting away with it, and his life was in tatters. No one believed the ha'ole from Jersey, they'd barely wanted him at the HPD in the first place. The top brass had loved him, loved his arrest record and his skills as a detective, but his peers had pretty much rejected him, all except for Meka, and Danny hadn't been especially inclined to work for their friendship.

And now he was in prison, surrounded by the kind of bad guys he'd worked so hard to put away. He'd been assured that none of them would recognise him; he hadn't been in Hawaii that long and all of his perps were either in different prisons or still awaiting trial and would be sent elsewhere. But his cases would be called into question and re-examined, criminals might get away with their crimes, and his best friend – his only friend – would have to work to defend each and every one, taking his keen eye away from Danny's own situation.

He was shoved roughly into cell 48, his ankle shackles removed, and as he turned to have his wrist cuffs unlocked the guard spat in his face.

"Call yourself a cop..." he muttered spitefully.

"Not anymore," the blonde mumbled, and waited patiently for his hands to be freed before he could wipe his face.

The guards knew they couldn't tell any of the inmates about Danny's previous job, or he'd be dead within the hour of the information leaking, but that didn't stop them from glaring at him and cursing him from dark corners for his betrayal of the badge. For a crime he never committed. He would have to be careful, and as much as he hated it, he would have to try to keep the guards on side as much as possible. So he'd have to put up with their shit.

"I hope you like your cell mate, Williams," the other guard sneered as he threw Danny's blankets and wash kit onto the none-so-clean floor, "He's one mean son of a bitch... and we selected him just for you!" The two officers laughed as they walked away, leaving the Jersey man to pick his things up from the concrete and sling them onto the lower bunk, the top one having already been claimed by the current occupant. He couldn't help but note the traces of a huge blood stain on his 'new' plastic-coated mattress... someone had bled out on this bed, and he hoped to god it wasn't in this cell at the time.

Twelve months. He just needed to survive twelve months...

Down in the canteen, Steve McGarrett was looking forward to meeting his new bunk mate. Maybe he'd be more fun than the old one, who had come to the end of his usefulness and had been disposed of in a way that no inmate could be pinned down for. This was why the men in here listened to him - he had a fantastic mind for planning out crimes and ensuring the truth could never be discovered. Careful instructions to prisoners on what to say in their interviews, whose alibi was whose, all made it look as though Eddie must have resorted to shivving himself in the gut to escape prison life.

Yeah, McGarrett was good.

He'd been a respectable boy once, all set to join the Navy and become a stand up citizen. But when his parents had been killed in a car bomb when he was just a teenager, he'd gone off the rails, so to speak.

He'd been sent to the mainland with his sister to live with their Aunt Deb, but he'd got in with the wrong crowd and a string of misdemeanours and youth parole violations meant that, at age eighteen when she was no longer legally required to care for him, Deb had kicked him out. Not for lack of love, but to protect his younger sister.

Steve understood that now, but at the time he was so very angry, he'd decided his best option was to return to his old stomping grounds in Hawaii and see how he could earn a living. And he didn't mean by getting a job like a good little resident.

His stealing had turned into armed robberies, those evolved into raids with a team of friends, and he'd got into con artistry and taken a lot of money off some very fat cats. But one of his crew had grassed on him in an attempt to save their own miserable ass from a longer prison sentence. So he was in jail, and his betrayer had met a terrible end in a Oahu Community Correctional after he called in a favour. He had connections, and he wasn't afraid to use them.

Once locked away inside, he'd made it his business to get on top as quickly as possible. He'd worked out who the pack leader was and swiftly taken him out in the yard, an 'accidental' collision had let him slice into the man's abdomen with a very sharp shard of glass, and he was half way across the yard before the big guy's guts were spilling out of his body. Misdirection was the key. And he'd stepped into the power vacuum quickly.

His men, whom he liked to think of as henchmen to his crime boss persona, were all eager to meet his new bunk mate as well, but his current strategy was to keep them downstairs with him to show them he was very much in control, while simultaneously letting his new buddy sweat in the cell and wonder who was coming home to him.

So he hid his curiosity and slight edge of nerves under a cold, calm demeanour, and played cards for an hour or so more before feigning vague interest in whomever might be waiting for him.

"Shall we take a look at my new best friend then, boys?" He let a wolfish grin spread across his face, exposing his white teeth, and threw the cards down on the floor for someone else to pick up if they wanted a game. He knew how to do power plays; it was all part of the con in the end.

He made his way up to the cells, making sure not to rush and seem too eager, threatening a couple of guys on the way for good measure and to create delays while his men tagged behind him.

Time to see who he was going to be spending quality time with...

Danny had made his bed and put his few personal belongings into his cabinet. He'd done so much pacing, he was surprised his thin plimsolls hadn't worn through already. He'd considered leaving the room, going down to the rec room or the canteen, but had decided it would be best to be in the cell when his roommate eventually decided to show up. It would mean meeting on the guy's home turf, his territory. Danny knew he would have to get along with this man, but at the same time he couldn't afford to appear weak on his first day, especially not with the guy he'd be sharing personal space with. Someone who was referred to by the guards as a mean son of a bitch, and whose cell seemed to be one to avoid, judging by the lack of curious visitors he'd been expecting.

But now here they were, all at once. Around twelve men bunching outside his cell door while he put his book down (which he hadn't got past the first page of in the last half hour due to nerves) and stood up from his horizontal position on the bed.

In the centre of the group was a tall brunette. He appeared to be the ring leader, and also was most likely to be his cell mate as no one entered through the open door except for him.

His hair was cropped short, almost military style, but messy. His prison issue jumpsuit was ripped, with the sleeves torn off, and Danny assumed this was to prove to the other inmates and staff that this guy 'didn't do rules'. Classic power play, he had this guy's cards marked already - con men were always on the long game somehow. He was a detective after all... 'was' being the operative word...

The man was built, thick ropey muscles in his arms, which were covered in an interesting array of tattoos and scars, and his shoulders and chest looked strong. A solid jaw which had five o'clock stubble spread over it, sharp hazel-blue eyes, and a pinkish scar on his left cheek which stretched from the corner of his eye to the hinge of his jaw and couldn't have been more than three months old or so. He walked with confidence and ease, and everything about him said 'boss', right down to the shit eating smirk on his face as he approached the shorter man.

Danny felt his pulse speed up, and he reactively clenched his fists, though he had to force them open again so as to appear non-threatening. He could go for the prize, right here and now. Attempt to own the big boss in front of his minions and win respect and power... but Danny was more sensible than that. Too risky that everything might backfire and he could get hurt or killed in this tiny cramped space with no escape route.

No, he had to keep his head down and be a good boy. He had to make it out of this place alive just in case Meka couldn't prove his innocence within the year, and restore his reputation. No pissing about with in-house politics.

Steve was fascinated with the man who was waiting in his cell. He'd expected some nervous two-bit crim, or someone who might try to affect their dominance straight away. He'd been ready for a fight just in case, knowing full well that those who were loyal to him wouldn't necessarily help him, and might just align with a new, more successful player, or even try to step up to take his throne themselves.

So when he entered the room and found neither of those options, but someone who was in between... he was most definitely intrigued.

The guy had been lying down reading a book, for god's sake, that showed a certain level of self-assurance. The blonde man appeared calm on the surface as he rose up and put the book on the cabinet, but Steve could see his pulse jumping in his neck. He wasn't local, a ha'ole with barely a tan to speak of, and he was shorter than Steve, but stocky and well-muscled, not to be underestimated. The brunette could see thick arms under his sleeves that looked like he maybe lifted weights, although the orange jumpsuit hid most of his body shape, but he appeared fit and looked like he could hold his own. Golden stubble coated a wide jaw, and his eyes were a clear blue-grey, reminding Steve of the ocean waves he used to surf on when he was young and care free.

That feature and its association immediately endeared the man to him somehow, but he pushed that aside because he had to make a show of dominance in front of his men. So much like being in the wilds of Africa, he had to prove he was alpha male, not just to his entourage but to the new contender as well. Looking at the man, who was unclenching his fists to appear less threatening, and making a vague attempt at a friendly, open face, Steve actually felt a little bad about what he was about to do.

Danny was prepared for an animal planet documentary, and knew that's what he would get, so when the brunette held his hand out to shake his in a friendly gesture, he was a little thrown.

"Steve McGarrett," the taller man stated.

Danny tentatively took his hand, but made his grip firm in response. "Danny Williams," he nodded.

He only had a second to register the toothy grin and the flash in Steve's eyes before his arm was twisted behind his back brutally and he was spun around and marched across the narrow room to be slammed chest first into the brick wall. Steve held him there and forced his body up against Danny's, using his height to try to loom over him, and shoved his face down next to the blonde's so he was mere inches away.

"It's nice to meet you, Danny Williams. You gonna roll over and play nice for me?" The brunette growled in his ear and jostled him into the wall again.

Danny sighed internally and tried not to roll his eyes, knowing he'd have to let this guy win for now. He attempted to give himself breathing space, but only succeeded in pressing himself down the length of his attacker's body.

"I dunno, Steve, it all depends. Here was me just hoping for a nice quiet life..." Danny figured it would be best to let the other man know he wasn't spoiling for a fight, so he used an honest, slightly tired tone in his voice.

Steve found himself trying to identify that accent, and settled for roughly New York or New Jersey region. He wondered why this mainlander was so far from home. He also wondered if he'd have time to find out, given that the smaller man might go for his throat the moment he backed off.

Danny finally allowed himself to breathe as the other man released he grip a little, having given a good show to his men and letting them see Danny was no threat to his rule. The blonde waited tolerantly for the taller man to completely release his wrist, and Steve took his time doing so, continuing to prove his authority.

Danny was eventually given enough space to turn around, and he stared up into his assailant's face and tried to hold down the anger bubbling under the surface. This was going to be hard, acting submissive and putting up with the other inmates for twelve months, especially with this neanderthal. But he was going to have to do it if he wanted to survive. So he purposefully backed down and lowered his eyes to Steve's collarbone to lessen the impact of his short-arse Jersey-bred attitude and hide the frustration and anger he felt.

This seemed to satisfy the brunette, who stepped away from him into the centre of the room, but squared his shoulders and kept his calm leering eyes on the shorter man.

Danny stepped away from the wall so he didn't feel so defensive, but not any further. There were several sniggers in the crowd of prisoners at the door, some of whom had now spilled into the room, but they otherwise stayed back and waited for their leader to tell them what to do. A well-trained little pack of miscreants, which said a lot for Steve's standing, considering some of the gang were twice the brunette's size and looked like they should techinically be able to win a fight against him. He must be a wily fucker, and Danny noted that in his mental jotter as he took in Steve's vitals and overall demeanour, his detective's mind always working away.

Steve still had that irritating smug smile on his face, tilting his head back and looking down his long eyelashes at Danny in an almost ogling fashion.

And Danny was prepared to look like the weaker of the two men, however contrary that was to his usual bolshy personality and bravado, just so he could have a simple, quiet existence between these four walls. That was until the tattooed freak opened his mouth again, pressing his buttons. Prison politics be damned.

Steve couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd actually been a little disappointed when Danny had backed down so easily, and he'd revved himself up for a confrontation. And the guy looked like he could really go for it in a fight, so it bothered the brunette that his quarry was shying away and letting his attack go undefended. He wanted to push him, wanted to see the guy in action and measure whether he could be useful or not, otherwise he wouldn't feel like he could respect him. None of the prisoners would. So he pushed.

He let a sneer cross over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. "Good boy," he snickered.

The Jersey man tensed, not taking well to being spoken to like a dog. His boys all made the appropriate sounds of amusement and glared at the blonde, but the compact shorter man made no further move to argue or fight back. Steve did note the eye twitch and the clenching fists though, but he was again dissatisfied that this was so easy. His new cell mate wouldn't last long without some sign he wasn't weak, and Steve already felt oddly like he would miss the guy. He was pretty to look at, after all, and there were always ways to make use of the pretty ones.

His smirk deepened and he turned to his men to shepherd them out of the cell again. "Shame boys, looks like we've got another coward who won't last the night..."

"Hey," came a pissed off voice behind him, and Steve's toothy grin returned and his heartbeat picked up as he spun on his heel to start a fight. He was looking forward to getting his hands back on the blonde. He didn't have a chance though, as a beefy fist smacked him hard in the side of his head, catching him over his cheek bone and temple, stunning him for a moment and making him stagger.

In the few seconds in took him to recover, three of his boys had leapt into the fray and had Danny up against the wall, holding him there and ready to start a heavy beating. The smaller man was putting up a good struggle though, lashing out and catching on of the guys hard in his stomach, and prizing another's hand from his bicep. Steve took note of who his most loyal lackeys were, and was impressed by Danny's determination and strength, but as one of them drew his fist back to start the attack, he grabbed it with both hands.

"No, don't," he ordered, turning his hard stare on the blonde and having to fight the temptation to massage the side of his aching face. The shorter man had a seriously mean right hook. Steve's men were surprised, but loosened their grip.

Danny had been wrestling the hands of one of the bodyguards away from his throat, believing he was about to get the beating of his life, and was more than a little stunned when their leader, the man he'd just clocked and sent reeling, told them to back off.

He was dropped to the floor again, having been lifted several inches off the ground by the three men, and they obediently walked to take their places at their boss's back while all the time watching the scrappy blonde.

"Steve?" one of the men queried.

The taller man stepped up closer to Danny and looked down at him through those thick eyelashes again. "I like this one," he said matter-of-factly, and looked to his group, confidently turning his back on his cell mate, "He's a good fighter when he gets pissed off, he's useful. He's under my protection, so no one touches him, let everyone know." He looked back at Danny again, a possessive spark in his cold, dark eyes. "I'm keeping you around..."

The shit eating grin was back again, and Danny couldn't work out whether he was glad about his new-found standing with the big boss, or terrified that he'd got tangled in something a lot deeper than he'd realised.