Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Hawaii Five-0. I'm just having a little fun with Steve and Danny. No harm intended.

No, It is NOT a Phobia

By: Vanessa Sgroi

"Well, that was a complete waste of time," Detective Danny Williams muttered as the elevator doors stuttered to a close behind him. Huffing out an annoyed breath, he stabbed at the ground floor button with a vengeance.

"No, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Steve's lips quirked upward.

"How can you say that? We didn't get a single piece of new information out of Luddy."

McGarrett dipped his chin in acknowledgement, "No, but we did get to see the lovely Emiko again."

"Seriously? We just spent an hour of our lives re-interviewing Harry Luddy, a smarmy slimeball SOB if there ever was one, and all you can think about is his secretary, Emiko?"

"Not secretary," Steve admonished with a grin and a wag of his finger, "Administrative Assistant." The comment earned him a scowl and Steve's grin grew. "And you've got to admit, Emiko has a number of certain charms."

Danny opened his mouth to offer a pithy riposte when a loud squeal from above interrupted him and the old elevator gave a little shudder. Throwing up a hand, the blond detective muttered, "What the hell was that?"

As the elevator continued its downward trajectory, Steve shrugged. "Eh. It's an old elevator—they do that sometimes."

"Uh huh." In a completely useless gesture, Danny stabbed at the lighted "G" button on the panel again while watching the floor indicator count down. A few seconds passed and Danny was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when the screech sounded again along with a new grind. This time the elevator shuddered and came to a complete halt.

"Ah, hell. You've gotta be kidding me," muttered the detective as he ran a hand down his face.

McGarrett rested a hand on the oft-painted, old-fashioned wood paneling and leaned his weight into it. "Relax—I'm sure it'll start again any second."

When several long minutes passed without any sign of movement, Danny swiveled his head and shot his partner a glare. "So much for that," he paused and wrinkled his nose. "Do you smell that?"

Steve held up his hands and wiggled his fingers, all wide-eyed innocence. "Wasn't me."

"Ha ha. Very funny. I'm serious! Do you smell that? It smells like something's burning."

"I don't smell anything."

"Seriously?"

Steven inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled. "Nope, not a thing."

"You're sure."

"Absolutely."

"So how're we getting out of here?"

Steve shrugged yet again. "Try the Help phone."

Danny opened the little metal door and grabbed the telephone receiver, pulling it toward him, only to drop it with a growl when he realized the cord was cut, making the phone useless. A perusal of the elevator showed no alternatives.

"Unbelievable! Un-freakin'-believable!" Suddenly experiencing an epiphany, Danny reached for his cell phone, a hopeful glint shining in his eyes. The glint died when he saw No Signal flashing on the tiny screen. Turning toward his partner, he saw Steve with his own cell phone cradled in his palm. "Anything?"

McGarrett shook his head. "Nope." He tucked his cell phone back in its holder. When Danny began to pace, a hand worrying at the back of his neck, Steve's gaze sharpened. "Hey—are you claustrophobic?"

"No! No, I am NOT claustrophobic!" Danny stated decisively, hands on his hips. "Not claustrophobic at all. It's—I just have a—ahh—thing about elevators. Especially non-running ones."

"So you have a phobia about elevators—wonder if there's a name for that?"

"Bite me. Can we get back to the business at hand here? How do we get out?"

"We wait."

"Yeah, well, I have a much better idea! I think you should pry that panel in the ceiling open and crawl out."

"And?"

"And then you can go get help. OR, better yet, you open the panel and push ME up through the hole and I'LL go get help."

"Danny, I'm not prying that panel open."

"How about the doors? Maybe we're near a floor and we can just crawl out."

"No."

"C'mon!"

"I'm sure they'll get this fixed, or get us out, soon."

The next hour found Danny pacing their small confines while McGarrett sat cross-legged on the floor with his back resting against the wall. The commander's eyes were closed.

"How can you just SIT there so calmly?" Danny yelled after his 50,000th circle around the limited area.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe something radical like get us out of here?"

"I'm meditating."

"Meditating? Meditating! At a time like… Wait. You—Commander SuperSeal—meditates?"

One blue eye opened, focusing in on Danny with laser-like precision. "Yes. I do." McGarrett's tone dared Danny to say anything about it. "It's good for you. You should try it. It'll help you relax." The eye closed.

"It's good for you, he says," mimicked Danny, his hands punctuating his rant, "I should try it, he says. Here we are in the middle of a life or death situation, and he wants me to meditate. Relax, he says. I'll show you relaxed! I'm so relaxed I make Bobby McFerrin look uptight." Despite his rant, Danny dropped down beside Steve and crossed his legs.

"Now take a deep breath," Steve ordered.

"A deep breath? I can't take a deep breath, I'll use up that much more oxygen."

"Danny…"

"Okay. Fine." Danny sucked in a lungful of air and noisily let it out. "There—you happy? And it didn't work, by the way."

"Try again."

Five minutes passed.

"Hey, I might be getting the hang of this."

"Good."

Without warning, the elevator jerked to life and without further hesitation continued its journey to the ground floor. Both men rose, and Danny eagerly waited for the doors to finally slide open.

When they did, McGarrett bowed slightly and gestured with his arm. "After you, Zen Master." Danny's scowl and growl put a grin back on Steve's face. Stepping out of the elevator car, McGarrett called Danny's name.

The shorter man looked back over his shoulder. "What?"

"Aren't you going to kiss it?"

"Kiss it? Kiss what?"

"The ground."

The detective made an obscene gesture and stalked further ahead leaving Steve behind. McGarrett laughed. Sometimes it was just too easy.

FIN

A/N: For those who don't know or don't remember, Bobby McFerrin is the singer of the song "Don't Worry, Be Happy".