sluttylyingliar | For Danny

For Danny

"Ow, motherfucker!" Rachel exclaims, waiving her mutliated and burned hand away from the hot oil popping out of the pan. "This is so stupid. I hate homework."

Rachel had signed up for the cooking class because it seemed like a mom should be able to cook meals for her family. Is it her fault that she grew up with a cook? Her mom sure as shit never cooked a thing and she's determined to be different. Yeah, they have people to do that shit around here, but she can't drag her kid up to the compound every time she wants a meal. She's going to learn how to cook and she's going to do it in her own home. Well, once the weird half kitchen thing is finished. God bless Raylan.

Until then, she's using the compound kitchen and cheating a little. Enlisting some help. Stir fry is hard.

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"Oh, Christ what?" she huffs, paying attention but trying not to look like she's paying attention. "What could you possibly not know about me at this point?"

Danny kind of hates himself right now, but it's been coming for a long time and so he huffs and eases closer to her. He presses a palm to her stomach and sways for a minute, leaning in so he's close to tell her. "You're gonna be maid of honour while Clark plays best bridesmaid. Except my wedding is in late December," he admits, leaving her to do the math.

Rachel grins widely, not getting it at first, just pleased that she was asked. It takes a few beats.

"Wait," she murmurs, face twisting into a thoughtful frown. "Dammmit! I'm going to be all fat, aren't I? I'm going to be a fat maid of honor!"

Danny smirks at her and releases hold of her stomach to get back to the cooking, giving her an innocent-seeming wink as he stirs the food in the pan. "Hey, I didn't decide when you got knocked up, so you're gonna live with however you look seeing as I doubt there'll be too many pictures. Just, maybe, the three dozen or so."

"I hate you," she mutters without any heat, hooking her chin over his shoulder to watch the progress.

"At least my boobs will be looking really good. I'll just draw all the attention up there and no one will notice my stomach. Oh, hey speaking of. I'm stopping stripping in a few weeks. Gonna bartend."

"Good," Danny says, unable to help the pride and the relief that's shining through in his voice. "I mean, in an ideal world, you're doing something related to charity, but this is your life and I know the club means a lot to you. So, good, I'm glad you're switching to something that'll be more comfortable during the pregnancy."

"Well," she snorts as Danny totally does her homework. "There's also the extreme unsexy factor."

"Please," Danny scoffs. "We live on an island of what, three hundred people? They're lucky they have strippers at all." He pops a veggie into his mouth and makes an approving noise before he leans his hip up against the counter. "And then you've got the honorary strippers like Steve and the other beach bums, who just enjoy taking their shirts off."

"Steve would do really well at the club," Rachel says thoughtfully, reaching around him to steal a piece of the stir fry. "Actually, we now officially have more male strippers than female. I need to find a replacement. You'd think with this many good looking, fucked up people, we could find more people willing to strip."

"Well, don't look at me," Danny says waving a hand at her to dismiss him. "And maybe it's just a male-clientele only, huh?" he suggests, gesturing to the pan. "Also? Stir. Fry. This is your homework, honey, I'm not doing it all for you so you can fail your class."

She mutters something uncharitable at that but does dutifully take back the spatula, shoving the vegetables around. "What about your classes? Doily making or whatever you're taking. I can't remember so I'm just assuming doily making."

"You mean marine biology and shop?" Danny corrects her, sinking down into a chair and kicking his feet up. "No one's taking my class, but in a way it's a relief. I mean, now I only have two jobs, classes, and a relationship to balance."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, frowning a little at that. "I would have taken it, actually, if I didn't have to take all these stupid mom classes."

Danny shrugs idly. "Why? Seriously, Rach, it's okay," he promises, offering her a sincere smile. "Now I get to take Steve's class and learn a dozen things I didn't want to know about marine biology. Which will be...." Well, marine biology, is what it'll be. "I swear to god, it's me, Mathias, and a passel of women who probably want to nail him."

"Honey, women everywhere want to nail him, it's a fact of life," she says, shoving the vegetables around, already bored with this cooking shit. "Is this done yet? I don't want to do this, anymore. Let's go to the beach."

"You know the worst part of that?" Danny says, strangling nothing in thin air. "The very worst? He acts like it's not true. He acts like I'm lying to him, the fucker," he hisses, shaking his head. "And no, we are not going to the beach. One, I hate the beach. Two, you're not done."

"I think that's kind of cute," she points out, turning back to the stupid dish with a huff. "You're both like that. You both tend to deny your bangableness. And I hate to point this out. But you literally live on the beach."

Danny makes a face. "God, don't remind me, just, do not," he pleads. "I live next to the beach in compromise to Steven because he likes to wake up in the morning and swim. If I had it my way, we'd be up by the Compound where civilization runs free. And please, I'm attractive in my own way, but women don't look past the height. Steve? Fuck, I've been invisible to women when he's around. I bet I still am."

"Jesus Christ," she murmurs, spatula shoved back in his direction yet again. "How many times have we gone over this? You're super hot. I'd totally do you if we weren't practically siblings at this point. Not only that, I'd bang you before I'd bang Steve. So there."

Danny leans forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "That's because you're a good girl. And hey, I know I'm attractive to certain types. I'm just saying on a broad scale when we went to a club or were working on Steve's Marquis, I was Mr. Cellophane and he was, you know, Steve McGarrett."

"What the fuck ever. Those girls are morons," she grouses, reaching down to grab an his ass. To make him feel better, of course.

"People suck. No one paid any fucking attention to me before I got these boobs and started starving myself. Fucking invisible."

Danny swats at her hand with a scowl. "Siblings do not grab each other's asses," he reminds her before pushing the spatula out of the way in order to give her a tight hug. "And those people are idiots who drove her to a bad situation. Newsflash, babe, I hate them."

Rachel startles just a bit, although she's getting much better at anticipating Danny's full body hugs. Even lets herself lean against him a little.

"Whatever," she huffs against his neck. "It was my decision to do it. Not like I discouraged the attention. I think my mom was relieved. A chubby, unpopular kid did nothing for her social standing."

"Okay, Rachel, if you don't stop talking about your shitty past, I'm adopting you," Danny warns with a gesture that she ought to zip her lips. "Seriously. You and me need to just move on. And you need to add something to the goddamn fry if you don't want it to dry out."

"You're a terrible therapist," she points out, whirling back around to stare at the slightly burnt vegetables. "Like what? Water? Can't it just be done?"

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