Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.

A/N: I wanted to do a Thanksgiving story, but I couldn't think of anything in my verses, so I decided to do a fluffy little getting together fic instead. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

"What?!...You've got to be kidding me!...No, Rachel, it's not okay for you to decide the day before Thanksgiving to take the kids to Stan's parents'. Couldn't they have decided this weeks ago like normal people?...I don't care if their trip to the Caribbean fell through at the last minute. That's no excuse for suddenly deciding to have a command performance family dinner!" Danny Williams was furious. It was bad enough he barely got to see his kids as it was, but now his ex-wife, Rachel, was going back on his promised Thanksgiving for a "family meal". He was their family, dammit! "Fine, but I get them for Christmas. The whole day. Both days—Christmas Eve and Christmas day…Yeah, yeah. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too." Danny hung up the phone and stared morosely at it, lamenting his life.

Danny's partner, Steve McGarrett, wandered by Danny's office and noticed his forlorn expression. "What's up buddy?"

"Rachel just called. She wants the kids for Thanksgiving."

"I thought you were getting them this year."

"So did I. And I was going to cook a real Thanksgiving meal and everything."

Steve hated seeing Danny so sad. It wasn't fair that even after all this time Rachel could run roughshod over him. "Why don't you come over to my place? We can hang out, drink some beers, watch the game."

"Thanks, babe, but that still leaves me with all that food. Turkey, stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, pie, the whole works."

Steve was impressed. "You really did go all out."

"Yeah. This would have been the first year I actually got both of them instead of them spending it with Rachel," Danny said morosely.

"Bring it over to my place. We can cook together."

Danny looked dubious. "Are you sure? That's still a lot of food for two people."

Steve shrugged. "So, we'll have leftovers. Neither of us will have to cook for a week. So, what do you say?"

Danny considered the offer. "Sounds good to me. I'll see you at nine in the morning."

Steve was surprised. "So early? I thought you'd want to sleep in."

"Are you kidding?!" Danny said. "Haven't you ever cooked a Thanksgiving meal?! It takes hours. Even nine o'clock's pushing it. My mom starts the night before."

"You could spend the night," Steve offered before he thought better of it. Oops, that overstepped the bounds of friendship a bit. Sure, Danny had stayed the night before, even lived with Steve for a couple of weeks when he got kicked out of his apartment, but those had always been spur-of-the-moment. This was premeditated, a flat-out invitation. It could so easily be taken the wrong way. Or the right way. Nope, Steve wasn't going there. Danny didn't think of him that way.

Danny took it in stride. "Just don't wake me at the crack of dawn."

"I thought you wanted to get up early," Steve teased.

"Not that early," Danny retorted.

"Okay, I promise," Steve said. "You in?"

"I'm in."

After work, Steve and Danny stopped by Danny's place so he could pick up the food and an overnight bag. Steve followed his partner inside to give him a hand. He took one look at the refrigerator and let out a whistle. "You've got enough food for an army here. How did you think the four of you were going to eat it all?"

Danny started lifting things out and putting them in a large box, probably one he'd gotten from the grocery store. "Charlie's a growing boy, and Grace is a teenager. They both eat a lot." Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, maybe I went a little overboard," Danny admitted. "I just wanted it to be perfect, you know? Just like my Mom used to make."

Steve did know. He thought wistfully of Thanksgiving with his own family, before things went so wrong. He knew how hard it was for Danny to be 5,000 miles away from his family on holidays, and to not have the kids as well must be killing him. "We'll make it perfect for us," Steve promised. He could picture him and Danny puttering around the kitchen, preparing the meal, then sitting down to enjoy it together. It was terribly domestic, and one Steve wanted every holiday for the rest of his life. Stop that, he chided himself. You're getting ahead of yourself.

They got everything to Steve's house and brought it into the kitchen. They unpacked it together, then Danny pulled out a sheaf of papers and consulted it. Steve could see it was an e-mail from his mother, probably with all her recipes. Danny really was pouring his heart into this. Steve was mad at Rachel for depriving Danny of these special holiday memories. Steve would just have to do his damnedest to make the memories of the two of them just as special.

They worked for a while side by side, moving just as smoothly as they did in the field. Somehow, Steve just knew they'd fit together at home, too. He really wished this was a regular occurrence, but he'd have to be satisfied with what he could get. And he was. Any time spent with Danny was special, and sharing moments like this was even more so. Steve was proud Danny felt comfortable enough to include him in his family traditions.

Once Danny was satisfied with the prep, they moved to the living room. Steve flipped idly through the channels, looking for something to watch. "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" flipped by. Danny looked wistful. "I was going to watch that with Charlie tonight. He hasn't seen it before."

That settled it. Steve stopped on the show. "So, we'll watch it together."

"Babe, you don't want to watch a kids' show."

"Sure I do," Steve insisted. "You may not have the kids, but you can still have the full experience."

"Thanks, babe," Danny said gratefully. He rested his hand on Steve's knee. The warmth seeped through Steve's cargoes, making him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He prayed Danny would never move his hand. Danny didn't.

After a while, Danny started yawning. "Bedtime," Steve declared.

"Sounds good." Danny started unbuttoning his shirt. Steve's heart nearly stopped. Oh, my God. Danny Williams was taking his clothes off in Steve's living room. Sure, they'd undressed in front of each other before, plenty of times, but never in a setting so intimate. Steve couldn't help staring at every glorious inch of skin as it was exposed.

Finally, he shook himself out of it. He fetched a blanket and pillow for Danny and thrust them at the blond. "Make yourself comfortable."

"As comfortable as I can. No offense, babe, but your couch is hardly comfortable. Not as bad as my old sofa bed, but close."

"So sleep with me," Steve blurted out. What had gotten into him today? First inviting Danny to spend the night, then inviting the other man into his bed. How obvious could he get?

Danny gave Steve a look he couldn't read. "Just don't hog the covers," he said.

Sharing a bed should have been awkward, but it wasn't. Without speaking, then men automatically settled on opposite sides, Danny seeming to know instinctively which side Steve preferred. Danny settled in, and Steve had to resist the urge to kiss him goodnight. He satisfied himself with a simple "Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight, Steve," Danny replied.

Danny dropped off immediately, but Steve lay awake, listening to Danny breathe. He should have felt nervous about sharing a bed with the man he harbored a secret crush on, but it felt natural. Danny's breathing was soothing, his presence warm and comforting. Steve could easily do this every night. Too bad this was a once in a lifetime occurrence. Steve basked in contentment until he, too, drifted off.

Steve was cold when he woke. He was confused at first. Then he rolled over and noticed his bed partner. Turned out Danny was the cover hog. Every scrap of bedding was wrapped tightly around the shorter man. Only a thatch of blond hair, disheveled instead of carefully coiffed as it usually was, peeked out. Danny was adorable. This time, Steve didn't resist the urge to kiss the top of Danny's head. Danny stirred, and Steve froze. "What time is it?"

Steve relaxed. Either Danny hadn't noticed the kiss, or he wasn't going to mention it. Steve refused to even entertain the possibility that Danny had liked it—he wasn't getting his hopes up. "Early. Go back to sleep."

Danny nestled deeper into the covers. "M'kay."

Steve went for a swim, then showered. He reentered the bedroom, towel around his waist, to find Danny lying on his back in the bed. "Morning. Sleep well?"

Danny stretched luxuriously. Steve watched the muscles of his chest flex beneath the t-shirt he wore. "Very. Maybe we should do that more often." Danny's voice was light, teasing, but Steve thought he detected a note of seriousness underneath.

"Anytime," Steve replied, hoping his tone matched Danny's. Let the detective make of it what he will. Danny was a detective, after all. Maybe he would detect how much Steve meant it, and if he didn't feel the same, they could pass it off as a joke.

Steve crossed to the dresser to find a shirt. He swore he felt Danny's eyes on him, and he couldn't help preening, showing off just a tiny bit for the other man. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

Danny swung his legs over the side of the bed. Steve indulged in the opportunity to admire those tanned, powerful limbs. Danny may be short, but he was compact and well-built. Steve could watch him all day. Too bad they had things to do. Danny's voice interrupted his musings. "Turkey first, then we finish the pie."

Steve had been amazed when Danny had announced they were making the pie from scratch, crust and all. "I thought you'd just buy one," he said.

"Nope. Ma always made hers from scratch, so that's what I'm going to do," Danny said. "I wanted them to have. . ."

". . .The full experience," Steve finished. "Have you even done this before?"

"Not by myself," Danny replied, "but I used to help Ma all the time. How hard could it be, right?"

Steve was dubious. "I've heard pie crust is one of the hardest things to make," he said.

Danny plopped a heavy cookbook down in front of Steve. "Ah, but we've got Julia Child. Ma swears by her."

Mixing the ingredients went smoothly, and they left the dough in the fridge to chill overnight. Now they would see if the effort paid off. But, as Danny said, first the turkey.

Danny plopped the bird in front of Steve. Steve just stared at it, mystified. "What do I do with it?"

Danny handed him a bowl of stuffing. "You stuff it. Didn't your Mom do this?"

"Yeah, but she never let us help," Steve said. "I've never made Thanksgiving dinner before."

"I'll show you. It's easy." Danny stepped behind Steve and reached around the taller man to scoop up a generous handful of stuffing. He put it in Steve's hand, then took his wrist and guided it to the turkey. "Now, shove it in."

Steve did as he was told, keenly aware of his partner's proximity. Their bodies weren't touching, but Danny was close enough that Steve could feel the heat radiating off of him. After the exchange in the bedroom, Steve was pretty sure it was deliberate, but he didn't say anything, and neither did Danny. Instead, Steve scooped up another handful and thrust it into the bird. "Like this?"

"Perfect," Danny said. He moved away, and Steve mourned the loss. "You finish that and I'll make the pie filling," Danny instructed. "Then, we'll assemble it."

When Steve finished, he looked to Danny for guidance. "Roll out the dough, will you?"

Steve glanced around and noticed Danny had spread out a piece of waxed paper, floured it, and placed the rolling pin next to it. The SEAL obediently fetched the dough from the fridge, unwrapped it, and left it there, looking forlorn and alone. "I'm not sure how," he said. That wasn't exactly true. He had a general idea, and the book Danny had left in front of him had detailed instructions. Steve was hoping Danny would give him another "hands-on" lesson.

Danny didn't disappoint. Once again, he moved behind Steve, closer this time, the fabric of their shirts rustling softly against each other. The blond placed the rolling pin in Steve's hands, moving them into position, then placing his hands on top of the brunette's. He gently guided Steve to the middle of the mound of dough, pressing down firmly and pulling their hands toward them. "That's good. Just like that," Danny said softly, practically in Steve's ear. Steve couldn't suppress the shudder that went through him. He wasn't sure he wanted to. This had gone so far beyond cooking. They were on the edge of something. Steve just had to take that last step over.

Steve lifted the rolling pin and moved it back to the center. He expected Danny to move his hands and step away, but he didn't. The detective let Steve take the lead, but he kept his hands lightly over Steve's guiding him. They did a few more passes like that. "You're so good at this," Danny murmured, his breath ghosting across Steve's neck.

Every fiber of Steve's being was screaming at him to turn around, take Danny into his arms and kiss him senseless, but he hesitated. Steve was so afraid he was wrong. Could he take that chance and potentially ruin what they had? "We're not talking about pie crust, are we?" he asked, his voice strangled.

Danny moved his hands to Steve's waist and pressed up against him, obliterating the last inch of space against him. "Only if you want us to be."

Steve could feel the hard planes of Danny's body against his back, and it felt so good, all his for the taking. He could feel Danny's burgeoning erection pressing against his ass, and he felt himself grow hard in response. "No," Steve choked out, voice hoarse with arousal.

"Good." Danny started laying light kisses on Steve's neck, then moved up to give the same treatment to the sensitive spot behind his ears. Steve fought the urge to turn around, press Danny against the counter, and take him right then and there. He knew they'd regret it, though. Not because they didn't want to, God, no, Steve was sure of that, but because it would ruin dinner. "Danny, the pie," he managed.

Danny laid a last kiss to Steve's neck and reluctantly moved away. "Right, the pie. We're not finished, though."

"I certainly hope not."

They finished the pie, and Danny checked the preparations. "That's it. Turkey's in the oven. We just have to baste it every half hour or so, but other than that, we're good for a couple of hours."

Steve wiped his hands on a dishcloth. "Great. So what were you and the kids going to do next?" He was still determined to give Danny the experience he was missing.

"Well, we were going to watch the parade," Danny said.

"Okay, then that's what we'll do." Steve moved towards the living room, but Danny stopped him with a hand on his arms.

"What if that's not what I want to do?" he said, voice husky.

"I thought you wanted a family Thanksgiving," Steve said, slightly confused. Isn't that what Danny had in mind?

Danny ran his fingers lightly down Steve's arm, and Steve felt goosebumps rise. "It was, but maybe now I want a more adult experience."

Steve swallowed hard. "What did you have in mind?"

Danny's hand moved from Steve's arm to his hip and continued lower, splaying out and resting across the top of his thigh. "Well, we have half an hour. I thought we could go back to bed and see what we could get up to."

Steve felt himself getting even harder, aching for Danny to slide his hand up just that little bit. "Sounds good to me," he said.

Turns out they could get up to quite a lot in 30 minutes.

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A/N: This was not what I set out to write. Fluffy, check. Thanksgiving dinner, check. Getting together, check. It was just the middle that went a little off course, and it ended up a lot sappier and a lot steamier than intended. Oh well, maybe I'll write that story next year. :) I also have a MacGyver Thanksgiving story (just gen) over on AO3 under StBridget called Something to Be Thankful For if you want to check it out.

A/N: Sorry I haven't written in a bit. As mentioned, I've been writing MacGyver over on AO3. I haven't given up on my verses here, though. In fact, I've got a Xenofiles pet verse in space in progress that should be posted shortly.