delicatale | You say the storm will pass, R, 2191 words

So remember that entry I did where I wrote about Steve turning into a bit of a cowboy? Yeah. I started writing it to amuse

theellibu and

stjarna1984, and of course it grew on me. So I'm dedicating it to them and

their_darkness who made me think WAY TOO MUCH about all of this when I first posted about it :').

sirona_gs read this over and helped me with it.

Basic plot is a case forces Steve to hide away in a safe house to protect an infant. It's not really his style but he makes do.

It all explodes on a Wednesday. It’s the kind of case Danny hates because they always mean that Steve is going to do something utterly stupid, but this time he surpasses any of Danny's expectations. The idiot ends up with the Samoans fired up to have his head, and an unnamed baby in his arms. And when his protective nature flares up tenfold, he refuses to let child services take care of baby -- because he's in danger, Steve says, the Samoans want the infant and Steve doesn't want to let them have him.

That's how he ends up in a safe house, and Danny knows from the start that it's a terrible, terrible idea.

-

By Friday Steve is already feeling caged. He knows the whole place by heart now, and baby sleeps a lot so Steve has nobody to talk to and nothing to do. He walks around the yard surrounding the house with a baby monitor clipped to his belt, explores every nook and cranny and shadow in every room, spends hours tapping against walls to try and discover secret passages, maybe a way out of the house, something that would help him breathe a little easier.

He discovers a weapons cache in the gardening shed. There's the most beautiful Colt in between the rifles and shotguns, and after two hours of cleaning and stripping it, Steve slides it in the waistband of his pants. He likes the weight and length of it.

-

Danny shows up on Sunday with food and drinks and clothes for Steve. What he doesn't expect when he opens the small wooden door cut through the high walls surrounding the property is to face the muzzle of a Colt, right there in his face. A proper Colt, a little vintage and scratched, gleaming with gun oil. A Colt held by no other than Steve McGarrett. Danny drops a bag full of vegetables before batting it off his face, glaring at Steve.

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

Steve has the decency to look sheepish when he pulls the gun back in his pants. Danny blinks, barely believing the sight in front of him. Steve is unshaven, his hair a mess of unruly curls; and most importantly, he's shirtless, a fine sheen of sweat covering his golden skin, the tattoos dark over his shoulders. The jeans he's wearing are so low and tight they look painted on, and are holding on to Steve's hips by sheer willpower. And possibly his cock.

Steve shrugs.

"You could have been a Samoan."

"I could have - fine, you know what, I don't want to hear it. Why are you staking out the door half-naked?"

"It's hot. Baby is sleeping so I'm keeping an eye out."

"I'm surprised you haven't given him a proper name yet. Something like Bulldog or whatever you SEALs like to name each other."

"He's not a SEAL, is he? He's just a baby."

Danny rolls his eyes, finding his annoyance melting like butter in the sun.

"Yeah, fine. Come on, help me with these."

-

Danny stays because Steve asks him to. They feed baby, and once he's asleep they head straight to bed themselves, Steve buzzing with nervous energy that his body turns into arousal as soon as he starts stripping Danny's shirt off him.

He doesn't let up - even after he's had Danny come down his throat, Steve fucks him hard, wanting a Danny-shaped imprint on the sheets and the mattress and his own skin.

Danny kisses him goodbye reluctantly the next morning and it's nowhere near enough.

-

Danny can only imagine how stir-crazy Steve is going. Stuck in a house taking care of a baby is not something Danny thinks Steve can be comfortable with, and it’s bound to make the man even more mental than he already is - Danny remembers Grace when she was tiny. Even with Rachel’s help, he remembers even now how sometimes he just wanted to run away from the apartment, stick his fingers in his ears and forget she ever started crying. Steve told him that baby is quiet and easy, but Steve never had to deal with this before, and even his protective nature doesn’t make him a dad.

Danny promises himself he'll get both of them out of the safe house as fast as possible.

-

"George?"

Steve raises an eyebrow, twirling the Colt around his index finger. No reaction.

"Okay, fair enough, George kinda sucks as a name anyway. Steve? Steve is a cool name, baby."

No reaction. Baby seems too happy playing with his own feet and trying to fit the whole of them in his mouth.

"James? John? Danny? Come on, give me something here."

Baby sucks on his toes and throws Steve a look that seems to say try again. Steve gives up.

-

It takes a whole week before Danny can show up at the safe house again. He finds Steve in the backyard, shooting can after can of Red Bull and Dr. Pepper, lined up neatly on top of the high wall. Steve shoots and shoots and maybe he's actually thinking he's Clint Eastwood now. He's wearing a shirt this time at least, but when he hears Danny and turns around, Danny sees that the buttons are all open so Steve is practically shirtless really. Danny sighs, walks closer and then tugs the sides of Steve's shirt down so he can kiss him, open and obscene and tasting a little of dirt and gunpowder.

-

"So what do you think of Kiwine?"

"Kiwiwhat? Why?"

"Kiwine. As a name for baby."

Steve is stretched half over the bed, half over Danny, naked and sweaty and amazingly sated, feeling much calmer than he was a few hours ago. The fan in the bedroom is not doing much to lower the stifling heat but Steve is content anyway, breathing damp air against Danny's tacky skin. And he's managed to get Danny to agree to spending the weekend with him, which helps with the loneliness and going crazy inside his own head. Baby's not really the best conversationalist.

"It sounds pretty girly."

Danny traces idle patterns with two fingertips along the curve of Steve's shoulder, his eyes closed and his face tilted close to Steve's messy hair.

"What about Keiki then?"

"Sounds...sounds nice."

"It means 'child'. In Pidgin. 'Baby' is Pepe. So it was Keiki, Pepe or Kai."

“What’s Kai?”

“Sea.”

“Oh, man, you have so many issues, McGarrett.”

“Keiki, then?”

"Keiki fits."

-

Danny's tired, strung out. Two weeks they've been on this, two weeks he's had to keep away from Steve as much as possible to keep him safe, to keep Keiki safe; and they're getting closer, he knows it, but fuck. He's lost the habit of sleeping alone once again and he hates how it makes him feel, a little stupid and a lot in love. He doesn't really know how to deal with it, and he wants to tell Steve that they'll get him out of this cage they have to keep him in soon, but even in his head it sounds like hollow words and he can't bring himself to give Steve false promises.

They're doing their best, and Danny barely sleeps.

Keiki burps used milk all over Danny's shirt after he's done with his lunch, and Danny wonders if it's all a plot to get him out of his clothes, something Steve and Keiki concocted together, and fuck, he's going just as crazy as Steve is. He decides the stream running through the back of the backyard will do for a quick wash, and he throws his shirt over his head, plunging it in the cold water and rubbing at the stain. It's a blessed moment where he's not so fucking hot - the house is an oven at any time of night or day, and there's barely any wind to ease the blistering heat.

Danny considers rolling around in the stream for a while, and that's when Steve sneaks up on him, kneeling behind him and licking the sweat off Danny's shoulders in long swipes that makes Danny shiver despite the weather. Steve's always horny and always carrying that baby monitor clipped to his belt and the Colt stuffed into the waistband of his pants, like a version of himself with new-found fatherly instincts.

They end up in the stream, both of them, mud caking their pants and shoulders, Steve's fingers trailing down Danny's skin and leaving streaks of dirt and want that make Danny lose his mind and come with Steve's hand around his cock and water dripping into his eyes.

-

Keiki has a nightmare one night and Steve holds him, hands too big as he supports the baby, and he feels so fucking inadequate he wants to scream, but then Keiki stops crying and falls asleep there, curled against Steve's chest. Steve watches him sleep for 3 hours before dozing off, sitting up in the rattan chair in the corner of the living-room.

-

“Not gonna be long anymore, Steve.”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

-

Steve’s aiming the Colt at the shadow of a tree with Keiki in a baby sling over his back when Danny shows up. At first Steve can only think of the last time Danny was here, of the taste of gun oil at the back of his throat when he’d hunted for the taste in Danny’s mouth, of fucking Danny with his jeans open but not off, of Danny’s hand curled tightly around the Colt, pressing it against Steve’s back, pushing the barrel between his ass cheeks. Danny hadn’t done it on purpose but Steve had still gone absolutely fucking wild.

But then when he shakes the thoughts away, not willing to relive this too much with Keiki on his back, and by the smile on Danny’s face and the lack of groceries, Steve knows they’ve got the bad guys and both he and Keiki are finally free.

-

Saying goodbye to Keiki is harder than Danny thought it’d be. The baby boy clings to both him and Steve when they try to explain what’s going on, and he cries hard as the child services woman pries him gently from Steve’s arms.

Danny rubs his thumb along the dips at Steve’s back as they watch Keiki disappear around the corner, and he can see how Steve’s eyes are red-rimmed. Fuck. He only just now realizes just how attached Steve had grown to the kid, but Danny isn’t sure how to make Steve feel better. He’s not sure how to make himself feel better at the idea of not seeing Keiki’s cute round smiley face anymore.

He drives them back in silence, hands Steve beers until he can’t drink anymore, and wraps a blanket around him when Steve passes out on the couch.

-

Steve wraps himself and the blanket he’s trailing along with him around Danny when he finds him on the lanai, drinking his morning coffee. He’s a little heartbroken, seeing Keiki’s little face every time he closes his eyes, but he’ll get over it. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before.

It still fucking hurts, but Keiki is bound to find loving parents - Steve promised him he’d make sure of it before saying goodbye, and Steve isn’t the kind to forget promises. He can almost admit to himself that the very selfish part of him just wants a few chances to see how Keiki’s growing up.

“Morning.”

“Hey. How you feeling?”

“Bit rough. I’ll be fine. Can’t wait to get back to work.”

Danny smiles, leaning his temple against Steve’s cheek.

“I guess I’m thoroughly fucked when I think this feels like returning to a normal life.”

Steve chuckles, rubbing his hands along Danny’s arms before leaning in, nosing along Danny’s neck and shoulder. He smells like the rest of Steve’s life, and Steve doesn’t feel caged by it. He just wants more of it.

“Yep. You’re fucked.”

Now it’s Danny’s turn to laugh, shaking his head before disentangling himself from Steve.

“I’m going for a shower. Hey, I have a question for you?”

“Yes, I’ll join you in the show-”

“No, that wasn’t it. Did you keep the Colt?”

Steve smiles, slow and a little naughty, and Danny groans.

“You totally did, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Steve, you can’t do that, it’s basically thievery--” his words are cut off by Steve leaning in close to him, wrapping an arm around Danny’s bare middle and using his free hand to tip Danny’s chin up. The kiss is a little desperate, and Danny clutches the blanket thrown around Steve’s shoulders. “I missed you, you know? You goof.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I missed you too.”