the sensation, the bodacious…

But it was the quiet moments that got to him. The way her voice softened when she talked to victims’ families. The way she always brought him an extra coffee without being asked, saying she liked the way he muttered complaints into the lid. The way she called him “Danno” with just the right amount of sarcasm to make it sting and stick.

He was falling. Slowly, stupidly, against every ounce of logic he had left.

It all came to a head one night after a long case—gunfire, a car chase, and a suspect with a machete who very nearly took Danny’s head off. She had tackled the guy from behind, saving him with a wild, breathless kind of bravery that made his chest ache.

“You’re insane,” he said afterward, as she cleaned the cut on his arm in the Five-0 kitchen. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

She was close. Too close. Her hands were steady, but her eyes, those damn eyes, held a flicker of something softer. “You’re welcome.”

He swallowed. “That’s not the point.”

“You’re welcome, Danno,” she said again, quieter this time.

He didn’t say thank you. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d say too much. So he stared at the wall while she wrapped him up in silence, and he tried very hard not to notice how her fingers lingered on his skin.

Later that week, she knocked on the door of his apartment. Windblown hair, bare feet, a six-pack of beer in one hand.

“You looked like you could use a distraction,” she said.

Danny opened the door. He didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. “You’re my favorite kind.”

They didn’t talk much that night. Just the sound of waves outside his balcony, her laughter, his stubborn heartbeat catching every time she leaned in too close.

“You know Steve’s gonna kill me if he finds out,” he said eventually, beer halfway to his lips.

She smirked, nudging his foot with hers. “Let him try.”

And maybe that was the moment he gave up pretending. Because yeah, she was reckless and complicated and a walking contradiction to every safe decision he’d ever made.

But she made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in years. Like this place, this unpredictable, sun-drenched island, might actually be starting to feel like home.

So when Steve cornered him a few days later, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, and said, “You’ve got it bad, buddy,” Danny didn’t even deny it.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”

Steve just sighed, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked away.

“Steve,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling back. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“I heard you were getting out. Thought I’d make sure you didn’t do something stupid—like take a job in D.C.,” he said, only half joking.

You smirked. “I had a few offers. Some safer. Some colder.”

“Exactly why I want you here.” He opened the passenger door. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

The drive was quiet, comfortable in that way it only is with someone who knows your silences. You watched the palm trees blur past, felt the sun warming your skin, and tried not to let your mind spiral with the sudden familiarity of it all—of him.

“Still brooding behind the wheel, huh?” you teased.

His lips twitched. “Still reading me like a book, huh?”

He pulled up to the Five-0 Task Force HQ and parked. “Come inside.”

You followed him through the glass doors, trying not to marvel at the space. “This is your base of operations?”

“Yeah. And I’m down one field agent. Thought you might be interested.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s what this is about? You want me to work with you?”

“I want someone I trust at my back.” His voice dipped lower. “Someone who won’t flinch when things go sideways.”

You stepped closer, tone light but your eyes locked on his. “Is this a job offer or a rescue mission, McGarrett?”

Before he could answer, Danny strolled into the room holding two coffees and stopped dead.

“Oh wow, she’s real. I thought maybe you hallucinated her.” He turned to you. “Danny Williams. I’ve heard a lot about you. Mostly during Steve’s long, overly detailed ‘not thinking about her at all’ rants.”

You blinked, amused. “That so?”

Steve shot him a look. “Danny—”

Danny just kept talking. “You know, he does that whole ‘I’m fine’ thing, but every time your name came up—”

“Danny.”

“—he got all broody and needed to go for a run. Alone. In the rain.”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh. “Really?”

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “He’s exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Danny said, offering you a coffee. “And I’m telling you right now, if you’re joining the team, you should know: this one’s been in love with you forever.”

Silence.

You blinked. Steve stared at the floor.

Danny looked between you. “Oh. You didn’t know? My bad. Carry on.”

He walked out like he hadn’t just detonated a relationship mine in the middle of the room.

You looked back at Steve. “Is he serious?”

Steve’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Danny talks too much.”

“That’s not a no.”

He exhaled, pacing a little before he stopped and turned to you. “I’ve thought about it, okay? About you. But timing was never on our side. We were always oceans apart. Deployments. Distance. Duty.”

“And now?” you asked quietly.

“Now… you’re here. And I don’t know what the hell to do with that.”

Your heart pounded. “You could start by asking me to dinner instead of offering me a job.”

His lips twitched again, but softer this time. “Is that a yes to both?”

You smiled, slow and sure. “Yeah. It’s a yes.”

From down the hall, Danny yelled, “Finally!”