Danny watches the dark mass of curls cropped closely to the tall man's head walk inside the Wandering Star saloon, and sighs to himself. God, not him again.
Steven J. McGarrett, fastest gun in the West, cheater, scoundrel, heartbreaker of men's and women's hearts both. At least that's what the rumour mill said, the one that followed him from town to town and back again, and now here he is, Danny's own personal Rubicon, trailing him from job to job like McGarrett has a fully-functioning Williams-radar that runs on ire. Danny has no idea how the guy does it, but not two days after Danny arrives in a place, McGarrett sneaks up on him like a dog with a bone.
Knowing him, and Danny likes to think he does at least a little by now, right this moment McGarrett is inside the saloon, shaking hands with the barman and ferretting out information like only he knows how, while with the other eye he follows the progress of the eternally present poker game in the corner. Soon enough McGarrett's going to ask to be dealt in, and then Danny knows that his quiet afternoon will come to a swift and probably violent end, because that's just the sort of trouble that follows McGarrett throughout the West lke a faithful horse.
And that isn't even the worst thing about this situation. No, the absolute worst thing is that Danny knows with an unshakable conviction that as soon as he pushes through the double doors and glares at McGarrett's smug face, the bastard is going to smile at him, that honest, open smile that Danny hasn't seen him give anyone else since McGarrett started trailing him a year ago, in the hopes of Danny leading him to a Chinese immigrant crime boss by the name of Wo Fat. And Danny? Well, Danny's going to cave, isn't he, he's going to scowl and rant but at the end of the day he's going to lend Steve a hand when the inevitable cheater tries to take him out for taking one hand too many, and he's going to pull McGarrett right out of the trouble he gleefully gets himself in, and when he turns to look, McGarrett's going to be right behind him with that glint in his eye, the one that promises adventures, probably a few firefights, definitely a few explosions -- unquestionably a whole load of fun.
And really, Danny thinks to himself as he adjusts the guns at his hips and his shiny sheriff's badge on his chest before starting his amble into the bar, one of these days Danny is going to have to work on saying 'thank you' already.
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Old Grenade-hand
Date: 2011-10-24 04:43 pm (UTC)Steven J. McGarrett, fastest gun in the West, cheater, scoundrel, heartbreaker of men's and women's hearts both. At least that's what the rumour mill said, the one that followed him from town to town and back again, and now here he is, Danny's own personal Rubicon, trailing him from job to job like McGarrett has a fully-functioning Williams-radar that runs on ire. Danny has no idea how the guy does it, but not two days after Danny arrives in a place, McGarrett sneaks up on him like a dog with a bone.
Knowing him, and Danny likes to think he does at least a little by now, right this moment McGarrett is inside the saloon, shaking hands with the barman and ferretting out information like only he knows how, while with the other eye he follows the progress of the eternally present poker game in the corner. Soon enough McGarrett's going to ask to be dealt in, and then Danny knows that his quiet afternoon will come to a swift and probably violent end, because that's just the sort of trouble that follows McGarrett throughout the West lke a faithful horse.
And that isn't even the worst thing about this situation. No, the absolute worst thing is that Danny knows with an unshakable conviction that as soon as he pushes through the double doors and glares at McGarrett's smug face, the bastard is going to smile at him, that honest, open smile that Danny hasn't seen him give anyone else since McGarrett started trailing him a year ago, in the hopes of Danny leading him to a Chinese immigrant crime boss by the name of Wo Fat. And Danny? Well, Danny's going to cave, isn't he, he's going to scowl and rant but at the end of the day he's going to lend Steve a hand when the inevitable cheater tries to take him out for taking one hand too many, and he's going to pull McGarrett right out of the trouble he gleefully gets himself in, and when he turns to look, McGarrett's going to be right behind him with that glint in his eye, the one that promises adventures, probably a few firefights, definitely a few explosions -- unquestionably a whole load of fun.
And really, Danny thinks to himself as he adjusts the guns at his hips and his shiny sheriff's badge on his chest before starting his amble into the bar, one of these days Danny is going to have to work on saying 'thank you' already.