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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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?"

"You're so terrible at this. Remind me that you're not cooking Thanksgiving dinner," Danny says with a flash of worry over his face when he realizes he's not gonna be able to get a bird the way he usually likes. "This is your class, this is your domain. You tell me when it's done. Also, I am so not eating anything you make. Sorry, babe."

"Fine!" she says, setting the pan firmly to the side. "It's done! Voila. Now let's go to the beach. I need to enjoy wearing a bikini while I still can."

Danny gives her a blank look as he shakes his head. "Babe, still don't like the beach," he reminds her, a little dubious as to whether she's actually heard him. "I don't do sand, I don't do little bathing suits, and I definitely don't do swimming except for special occasions. Mostly, I wanna go home, take off my tie, and relax."

"You are a boring, old man," she accuses, tasting the food and deeming it close enough to edible before shoving the rest in the fridge. "Fine. Go home and be boring. Don't go to the beach with me. I'll go by myself. Me and the fetus."

"How about I compromise with you, now?" Danny offers with a reluctant sigh, like he's signing away his soul with these words. "Like you said, I got a beach by my place. You can come with and I'll sit in the chairs in the shade and relax with a drink while you soak up the sun or whatever. And you can help me spy on my old hut. I think someone new moved in and it's the closest thing Steve and I have to neighbors."

"Sounds like a plan!" she exclaims, winding her arm through his. I've actually got a bra and underwear on for once, so I can just go with that. Besides, I want to know if you can see a bump. Raylan says he can but I can't tell if he's full of it."

"Okay, well, not to disagree with the father-to-be, but at this point, I don't think you're gonna be showing," Danny admits as he guides Rachel down the path. "You're still super-thin, don't get your issues all tied up in a bind."

"I'm not having issues!" she protests, poking at her belly. "If anyone has issues here, it's you. Or both of us. We have equal amounts of issues."

"How am I having issues about you being flat-stomached, huh?" Danny wants to know, heading straight for the bedroom once they get to the hut. He keeps the main door open so that he can talk to her while he changes -- yanking off his tie and hanging it up neatly as he pats Zulu distractedly.

"You have got body image issues!" she insists, leaning against the open door and not even pretending not to watch. "Maybe that's why we get along so well. We're both morons in the same way."

Edited 2011-10-02 03:08 (UTC)

Danny strips off his shirt and folds it neatly beside the tie, unbuttoning his trousers and doing the same with them. It's a sign as to how much he loves Rachel in a platonic way that he's doing this in front of her. "I do not have body issues, not anymore. I know Steve likes this, I know that I bend over and he wants me," he clarifies as he picks up a pair of khaki shorts and a long-sleeved baseball jersey, putting them both on and gesturing to the door. "Come on, I wanna go see the old hut before you start stripping."

"Yeah, but I don't think you believe me when I say that I'd pick you over Steve," she counters, looking him up and down before following him back outside.

"Yeah, because if nothing else, he has that tramp stamp," he says as he hooks his arm in hers, dragging her along to his old destroyed hut which has started to look really good and improved and nice in a way that he wonders who's there.

He peers into the window, wondering who the hell is in there. "I never see anybody coming and going."

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