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Written ages and ages ago. With thanks to for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Danny booked the day off.

Steve had given him a sort of questioning look, but Danny was owed like a million days off, so he couldn't really say no unless they pulled a major case. Luck was with Danny on that, because they wrapped up their most recent case two days before and hadn't pulled in anything else. It meant Steve was going slowly insane in the intermittent days, having to do normal, boring cop things like paperwork, but Danny was glad about it. His mind just wasn't on the job anyway.

The plan had been to spend the day alone. Maybe drink a few too many beers, lament his cursed from the start marriage - he could admit that now, even if it still fucking stung - and hopefully clear his fucking head before he had to face work again the next day.

Grace called him in the morning. It was early, too early, considering he hadn't even set his alarm and had plans to sleep in, possibly until noon, but it was Grace, so he didn't mind. He never minded talking to his monkey and listened dutifully while she recounted her 'adventure' the night before, rounding up Mr. Hoppy after he'd escaped his hutch.

It was a school morning, so the call didn't last too long, only long enough for her to shove breakfast down her throat between bouts of chattering and then she was saying goodbye and 'love you Danno' and he told her he loved her more, letting the dial tone buzz annoyingly in his ear for a few seconds before dragging himself out of bed and towards the bathroom.

There was a slim - really slim, but still - chance he could have gone back to sleep, if he'd just rolled back over, but now that he was awake his bladder was making itself felt and once he'd finished relieving it, he headed to the coffee maker almost on automatic.

Breakfast was burnt toast - because his toaster was a thing of evil and no matter how closely he watched it, how often he checked, he could never managed to get it right, toast always coming out either 'slightly crunchy bread' or 'black as tar' - washed down with the coffee before he started to the serious business of lamenting.

He'd gotten through the early years and how delusional he'd been to ever imagine he and Rachel would last forever - he especially enjoyed beating up on both of them for the whole 'incident' the first time Rachel met his sisters - and was into Grace time, where he geared up to curse himself and Rachel out for putting their baby girl through the shit their marriage became when someone started knocking on the door.

That it was Steve, was the least shocking shock ever and since it was after five now - it took a long time to rehash old shit - and it was clear from the way Steve muscled his way in and sat on the end of Danny's bed looking expectant, Danny did the decent thing and handed him a beer.

"So, Grace called me," Steve said.

Danny frowned. Why was his daughter calling his partner? Why did Grace even have his number? And how? Danny hadn't given it to her.

"She was and I quote 'worried about our Danno'," Steve said. "I was curious because, you know, days off aren't really worrying until you talk to your partners ex-wife and find out it would have been their anniversary."

"Well, Grace is eight. She worries about lots of things. Last week it was whether her 'my little ponies' needed to be re-shoed," Danny tried for 'humour' but got more along the lines of 'please leave this alone'. Like that was ever fucking going to happen. The only time McGarrett left emotional shit alone was when it was his own.

"Grace," Steve said slowly, "cares about her Danno."

Danny ducked his head, embarrassed and shit, did he really just diss his baby girl?

"Come on, brah," Steve said.

Danny sighed. "It's just... a thing, okay. It's not even a big thing just... something I do. Hang out alone and think shit over."

"You know, I've been called emotionally stunted..."

"Whoever said that must have been wise beyond measure," Danny threw out. Mostly because it was expected.

"...but," Stephen said more pointedly, "sitting alone drinking, is never the answer."

"This is the first beer I've had," Danny said. He planned to drink a lot more after it, but he'd seen a few too many good cops go down in a haze of alcohol to break his self imposed rules about drinking, and one of them was that he didn't drink alone before five in the evening and if he ever had more than three, he couldn't have any more the day after.

The only time he'd broken that rule was after Grace first moved out here, before he'd been able to follow. He'd done it once and felt like utter shit the next day when Grace had called to see how he was. Never again.

"And I'm not alone," Danny added.

Steve looked... pained? Uncertain? Something Danny couldn't entirely place.

"Just... look, if you need to talk," Steve said. "I'll listen."

Danny contemplated it. Did he need to talk? Could he pour out all the shit from his marriage to Steve? Would he feel better or worse after it? And the startling realisation was that he could, and he might even feel better, but he didn't want to. Didn't need to. Just having Steve there and offering, he already felt about ten times better than he'd been feeling in the last week, since the date snuck up on him all ninja-like.

"I'm good," Danny answered finally, a beat before his stomach rumbled.

Steve snorted. "Trust you," he said.

Danny pulled a face. "Fuck you, I haven't eaten since breakfast. Lost track of time."

Steve rolled his eyes, shook his head and pulled an aneurysm face. "Come on, Danno. I'll buy you another beer. And pizza."

"Do you even have your wallet because..."

Danny followed Steve from his apartment and into the car, still railing on him about the numerous times he'd 'forgotten' his wallet and he found himself smiling.

This was the best 'anniversary' he'd had in five years, and he was stuck on an island with too many pineapples and too much sun and not nearly enough time with his daughter, but he was with Steve and that seemed to make it better.

"Huh," Danny muttered to himself, too low for Steve to hear, or if he did, he didn't comment. "Go fucking figure."

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