gyzym: (Hnnnnnnng Kono)
[personal profile] gyzym
Welp, tonight's H50 sucked. Here to improve it are four ridiculous possible deleted scenes. Pick your poison!


"So," says Steve, "if we ever have kids, what religion do you think we'll raise them to be?"

Danny doesn't spit out his beer, but it's a close thing. "What?" he says, and then, "I'm sorry, Steven, I am, I really am, but what? What is the matter with you, huh? You give a guy a couple blowjobs, a few good fucks, I'm not denying it, they were good, there are maybe even--don't make that face at me, McGarrett, there are maybe some feelings involved, one of two or four, okay, fine. But this? This is not the stage where you bring up the religion of our potential children, okay? Jeez."

"Hmmm," Steve says. "Yeah, probably not. Maybe I should cool it on the beer for a little while."

"Christ," Danny says, "you are a broken person, you know that?"

"Yeah," Steve says, and smiles, tilts his head contemplatively. "Hey, you don't think the residual aftereffects of this conversation will slip into everything we do, making us mention religious-type shit every ten minutes or so through the rest of our next case, do you?"

"Why would I think that?" says Danny.

"No reason," says Steve, "wanna bone?"


Struck with a particularly vicious case of insomnia, Danny runs out of decent hockey fight clips on Youtube and is, regrettably, forced to surf the site for other things instead. He ends up watching P.Diddy music videos, bleary eyed and unfocused, until Steve comes downstairs and drags him to bed. He's not sure if he manages to sleep because of the hours of mindless internet perusal or the truly spectacular sex, but he wakes up the next morning blinking and confused.

"I just had the weirdest dream," he says.

"Um," says Steve, looking oddly nervous, "what…happened in your dream?"

"I don't even," Danny says, waving a hand. "You drove through a gate--I mean, that part wasn't weird, that was just normal, and Kono climbed a tree, which, okay, makes me wonder if you're secretly training her for SEAL school or something and my subconscious is trying to tip me off so I can run, but, no. I think we were trying to save P.Diddy from evil? Only he had a gunshot wound but then he didn't anymore, I don't know, it was weird."

"So you didn't," Steve says, "oh, I don't know, I'm just spitballing here, stare into the deep abyss of mind control or anything, right? Not that there are secret military operations initiating human testing via the water supply. Because that would be ridiculous. Ahahahahahaha, yep, nope, that's totally not happening at all. Anywhere. Ever."

Danny stares at him. "You know," he says, "I like you a lot, Steve, I do, it's great, but sometimes you make me really fucking nervous, you know that?"


"This case was weird," Danny says, flopping down on the couch next to Steve. "Like, seriously, just--there was some shit about that that was not right, you get me?"

"Yeah," Steve says, "yeah, I really do. This whole week has been--"

"Yeah," Danny says. "Whatever, at least it's over now. What're you watching?"

"Nothing," Steve says, gesturing at the screen, "nothing's really on, I think this is a cooking show or something."

"Hmmm," Danny says, "'kay."

He settles in against Steve, because he's tired, okay, it's been a weird couple of days and he's comfortable, and lets his focus drift to the screen. Which, yeah, looks like a cooking show, no problem, he can fall asleep to that and that is what he wants to do, the sleeping thing sounds--

"Hey," Danny says, "hey, hey, wait a second. Steve, that guy waving at the pickles, is that--is that Wo Fat?"


"Kono," says Chin, "why are you shooting web out of your hands?"

"What radioactive spider?" says Kono, and goes about her day.
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July 2011

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