sirona's fics (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sirona_fics) wrote2011-04-07 01:23 am
sirona_fics) wrote2011-04-07 01:23 am
Entry tags:
[Fic] In the eye of the beholder, Steve/Danny, H50
Well, I don't know about Danny, but apparently this is my life now. I am doomed. But what a way to go! ...Why am I even still awake, I have to be at work in six hours' time. /0\ Have I mentioned how much I hate my muse when he perks up at 10 past midnight?
Written for the Beginnings and Endings challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
h50_flashfic.
Title: In the eye of the beholder
Rating: PG
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word count: ~800
Summary: In which Steve is bowled over by a pair of hopeful brown eyes, and Danny isn't far behind.
Notes: Original post here at h50_flashfic.
“No. Oh, no,” Danny says, arms outstretched, palms up like he’s trying to ward Steve’s stupid, ridiculous look off. “No way. Steve. Come on.”
“Just look at him, Danny! I can’t just leave him to be taken away!” Steve says, equal parts anxious and earnest.
Danny looks down against his will, and he knows, he knows he shouldn’t, but he scrutinises the creature again even as he wills himself not to fold.
Large brown eyes gaze appealingly up at him, unknowingly matching the look on their eager soon-to-be owner’s face. The skinny tail thumps the floor amiably as the dog shuffles sideways to lean against Steve’s sturdy thigh where he crouches, hand buried in its scraggly fur. The dog grins up at Steve, tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth, and butts his head into Steve’s warm palm.
Steve peers down at it with that look in his eyes, the very same goofy look he gives his team, or Mary, or Grace, when he thinks they aren’t looking, and Danny knows it’s a lost cause.
“Jesus Christ,” he gripes, but he can see Steve perking up. Danny is well aware that Steve can tell by now with almost 100% accuracy when he’s got Danny where he wants him.
The dog shoves a wet nose into the side of Steve’s cargo pants, nuzzling into the contact as Steve scratches between its ears, leaving behind a darker patch. It’s no more than a puppy, bedraggled from being accidentally locked inside the warehouse they’d been called out to by a paranoid cousin of Kono’s, who thought he’d heard a suspicious bang from the inside. Since Kono and Chin are both away at some family thing, Danny and Steve’d had no choice but to hightail it over. The poor guy had been horrified to see the dog’s desperate little face peek out of the newly unlocked door, since apparently he hadn’t seen anyone going in or out for the past week.
Danny is not prepared to admit to the suffocating lump that had stuck in his throat when he’d seen the dog gulp down the water Steve had poured into a makeshift bowl, and devour the remains of Danny’s sandwich that he’d had to snatch on the go when the call had come in.
Still, he knows there is going to be trouble. A puppy it may be, but the size of its huge, clumsy paws speaks plainly of the size it’s planning to grow into now that it can scarf up as much food as it can get its muzzle in. It’s going to be the size of a horse in no more than six months, Danny is positive.
The set of Steve’s brow speaks volumes about giving a shit, and how much he doesn’t. He’s in full mother hen mode, and Danny can already foresee a future when they’re going to have to ride with one of the back windows of the Camaro taken out so that the mutt can hang his head out to catch the breeze open-mouthed, ears flapping happily behind him. It’s not an altogether awful prospect.
“Oh, god,” he groans, and Steve grins victoriously, taking it for the surrender it is. The way his eyes light up when he looks at Danny more than makes up for the inconvenience of his car smelling permanently of wet dog, if he’s going to be anything like his master -- and let’s face it, Steve’s dog is barely going to leave the water if it can help it.
“I knew you liked him!” Steve crows, beaming at him. Danny tells himself it’s not attractive, but he can’t quite subdue the goofy grin he can feel stretching his face.
Oh, what the hell. Steve’s house is far too large and empty when Danny and Grace aren't over there, anyway.
---
He’s a goner already, and that’s before Grace claps eyes on the dog at Steve’s place two hours later, calls him Mr Wuffles--
(‘Danno, Danno, can I? Can I please?’
‘He’s Steve’s dog, sweetheart, you should ask him.’
‘Can I? Please, Steve? I’ll do the chores for the whole of Saturday!’, like Steve could possibly resist her and the mutt, peering up at him with identical hopeful expressions)
--and refuses to be separated from him for longer than it takes to bathe him in anti-flea shampoo.
Then, of course, because this is Danny’s life now, they proceed to roll in the waves at the water’s edge and get so dirty and messy and ridiculously happy that Danny hasn’t the heart to even look stern.
“It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Steve murmurs, standing at his shoulder and looking out at the pair of them, so patently thrilled at the sight that something clenches tight in Danny’s chest.
“Yeah, babe,” Danny says, and leans his shoulder against Steve’s gently. Neither of them pulls away.
Written for the Beginnings and Endings challenge at
h50_flashfic.Title: In the eye of the beholder
Rating: PG
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word count: ~800
Summary: In which Steve is bowled over by a pair of hopeful brown eyes, and Danny isn't far behind.
Notes: Original post here at h50_flashfic.
“No. Oh, no,” Danny says, arms outstretched, palms up like he’s trying to ward Steve’s stupid, ridiculous look off. “No way. Steve. Come on.”
“Just look at him, Danny! I can’t just leave him to be taken away!” Steve says, equal parts anxious and earnest.
Danny looks down against his will, and he knows, he knows he shouldn’t, but he scrutinises the creature again even as he wills himself not to fold.
Large brown eyes gaze appealingly up at him, unknowingly matching the look on their eager soon-to-be owner’s face. The skinny tail thumps the floor amiably as the dog shuffles sideways to lean against Steve’s sturdy thigh where he crouches, hand buried in its scraggly fur. The dog grins up at Steve, tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth, and butts his head into Steve’s warm palm.
Steve peers down at it with that look in his eyes, the very same goofy look he gives his team, or Mary, or Grace, when he thinks they aren’t looking, and Danny knows it’s a lost cause.
“Jesus Christ,” he gripes, but he can see Steve perking up. Danny is well aware that Steve can tell by now with almost 100% accuracy when he’s got Danny where he wants him.
The dog shoves a wet nose into the side of Steve’s cargo pants, nuzzling into the contact as Steve scratches between its ears, leaving behind a darker patch. It’s no more than a puppy, bedraggled from being accidentally locked inside the warehouse they’d been called out to by a paranoid cousin of Kono’s, who thought he’d heard a suspicious bang from the inside. Since Kono and Chin are both away at some family thing, Danny and Steve’d had no choice but to hightail it over. The poor guy had been horrified to see the dog’s desperate little face peek out of the newly unlocked door, since apparently he hadn’t seen anyone going in or out for the past week.
Danny is not prepared to admit to the suffocating lump that had stuck in his throat when he’d seen the dog gulp down the water Steve had poured into a makeshift bowl, and devour the remains of Danny’s sandwich that he’d had to snatch on the go when the call had come in.
Still, he knows there is going to be trouble. A puppy it may be, but the size of its huge, clumsy paws speaks plainly of the size it’s planning to grow into now that it can scarf up as much food as it can get its muzzle in. It’s going to be the size of a horse in no more than six months, Danny is positive.
The set of Steve’s brow speaks volumes about giving a shit, and how much he doesn’t. He’s in full mother hen mode, and Danny can already foresee a future when they’re going to have to ride with one of the back windows of the Camaro taken out so that the mutt can hang his head out to catch the breeze open-mouthed, ears flapping happily behind him. It’s not an altogether awful prospect.
“Oh, god,” he groans, and Steve grins victoriously, taking it for the surrender it is. The way his eyes light up when he looks at Danny more than makes up for the inconvenience of his car smelling permanently of wet dog, if he’s going to be anything like his master -- and let’s face it, Steve’s dog is barely going to leave the water if it can help it.
“I knew you liked him!” Steve crows, beaming at him. Danny tells himself it’s not attractive, but he can’t quite subdue the goofy grin he can feel stretching his face.
Oh, what the hell. Steve’s house is far too large and empty when Danny and Grace aren't over there, anyway.
---
He’s a goner already, and that’s before Grace claps eyes on the dog at Steve’s place two hours later, calls him Mr Wuffles--
(‘Danno, Danno, can I? Can I please?’
‘He’s Steve’s dog, sweetheart, you should ask him.’
‘Can I? Please, Steve? I’ll do the chores for the whole of Saturday!’, like Steve could possibly resist her and the mutt, peering up at him with identical hopeful expressions)
--and refuses to be separated from him for longer than it takes to bathe him in anti-flea shampoo.
Then, of course, because this is Danny’s life now, they proceed to roll in the waves at the water’s edge and get so dirty and messy and ridiculously happy that Danny hasn’t the heart to even look stern.
“It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Steve murmurs, standing at his shoulder and looking out at the pair of them, so patently thrilled at the sight that something clenches tight in Danny’s chest.
“Yeah, babe,” Danny says, and leans his shoulder against Steve’s gently. Neither of them pulls away.