twentysomething

Title: Do It Again

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0

Pairing: Danny/Steve/Catherine

Summary: "Actually, most of the people she knows- most of whom still know McGarrett, by reputation, if nothing else- look at her sadly, and ask if McGarrett is still her boyfriend. Which is really sort of ridiculous, because Steve is her girlfriend."

Length: 1400 wordsish.

Warnings: GET IT, GIRL.

Notes: So, basically, I feel like there needs to be more fic wherein Catherine gets to nail hot dudes, so. But seriously, there just ISN'T ANY and that kills me inside, and so I wrote this, which is crap, but a starting place, you know?



Catherine thinks the phrase "using Steve mercilessly for sex" is a little harsh.

After all, she compromises her career on a semi-regular basis for that sex.

She's earned it.

Actually, most of the people she knows- most of whom still know McGarrett, by reputation, if nothing else- look at her sadly, and ask if McGarrett is still her boyfriend. Which is really sort of ridiculous, because Steve is her girlfriend.

It would be a lie to say she doesn't have some emotional investment in Steve- she cares for him more than most people outside her family, even more than some of the people in her family, because despite the fact that Steve is essentially convinced he's a cowboy and Hawaii is the wild west, he's a good guy. Also, he makes a killer steak, true life.

So, because she likes Steve, in addition to liking sex with Steve, she's willing to fix his life. Just a little.

"Cath-" Steve tries, like he's about 20 again, trying to get out of duty to go with the rest of the cadets to go see U2, or whatever stupid shit he was pulling- trying to smuggle the goat back in.

"Yeah, no," she says flatly, because Steve taught her nerve strikes himself, and she will paralyze him if she has to. (Temporarily.)

Even if it's sort of counter-intuitive for the rest of what she has planned.

"Look, I'm just saying," she says, crossing her legs, allowing the universal pull of her really fantastic legs to momentarily hypnotize Steve. "You spend 60% of the time we're together bitching about Danny drives me crazy this, and Danny is fucking crazy that. Literally, the only time you're not talking about him is when I'm fucking you." And Catherine's not 100% sure that she didn't hear a "Dan-" muffled into a pillow, two weeks ago.

"Do not-" Steve breaks off, mid-three year old response. "I don't know what you're talking about." Catherine raises her eyebrows, which is universal sign language for you're full of shit.

"Far be it from me to suggest you know, couples' counseling," That's exactly what she's suggesting- "But I thought you might like a nice, impartial opinion." Steve shuts his mouth mulishly.

"Besides, he's bringing beer." Catherine points out soothingly. Steve rolls his eyes.

"You told him he was coming over for a team dinner," Steve points out in return, but like Catherine is some sort of evil mastermind, which, fair enough.

"We'd have three-fifths of a basketball team," she tries, but that's just because she can't think of a three-person sport off the top of her head. Steve looks sort of like he wants to smother himself with a pillow, but he's stopped looking for his phone, which she likes to think of as progress.

"Never fear, Danny Williams is he-" Danny calls out, pausing when he reaches the living room, promised beer in hand. "Uh, hi- Catherine?" To his credit, it doesn't sound like he's trying to remember her name, he's just confused about why she's there, and, presumably, why Chin and Kono aren't.

"Hi, Danny," Catherine says cheerfully.

"There's no dinner, she just wants to talk about feelings," Steve says baldly, like the traitor he is. Danny makes this face like he's casing for exits.

"I'm faster than you, I promise," she reminds Danny, in case he really does try to bolt. Danny sighs and dumps himself into one of the chairs, opening two of the beers quickly.

"Oh, thank god," Steve says and Danny just shakes his head, holding on to both of them.

"I don't think you understand, these are both for me," Danny explains. Steve slips further into his sulk. Catherine just sighs and goes for her duffel and the duty-free tequila inside it.

"Yeah, still don't think this is a great idea," Steve mutters, even as he takes his first shot. Danny eyeballs Catherine and Steve and takes another long pull of beer.

"Don't get me wrong, Catherine, you're a wonderful woman and I appreciate everything you do for us, but I honestly don't know what you want from me," Danny tries.

"I've been friends with Steve for a very long time," she starts, and sincerely appreciates Danny biting down on the "so that's what they're calling it these days" that she can tell is right behind his teeth. "And having listened to him for the past six months and seeing the two of you together, I feel pretty confident in saying this." She pauses to make sure they're both listening to her.

"If you two don't have sex, one of you is going to shoot the other," she says flatly.

Danny laughs and Steve goes straight back in for the tequila.

"Catherine," Danny says, sweet and condescending, "I spend all my time with this guy. Like, I appreciate that you're willing to go there, and I'm sure he's phenomenal in the sack, but I think you may have misread some things here, like two or two hundred." Catherine spent a duty rotation with JAG interrogators, she's comfortable staring Danny down.

When he breaks, predictably, he turns to Steve.

"Steve, am I right or am I-" Danny breaks off when he sees Steve furtively take his third, or possibly fourth shot. "Okay, can you ease up off the Cuervo and back me up here?"

"I'm not going to shoot you," Steve finally says. Danny raises his eyebrows.

"But you're saying you do want-" Danny stops, mid-sentence, and there's something dark and hungry there, and yeah, there's a reason Catherine is in intelligence and Danny and Steve are cops. Steve shrugs.

"I've had some thoughts," Steve admits and watching the way Danny freezes like his whole body is running on some different current makes Catherine feel a tense herself.

"Thoughts," Danny says, low and curious and Catherine had abstractly acknowledged Danny being attractive, but there's something about the way he's holding himself that suggests movement is just around the corner, and if this is what Steve drives around with all day, Catherine's not really sure how he's stopped himself from jumping Danny.

"Yeah," Steve repeats, his body starting to get that languid look, like it does around the half-bottle of wine mark, and Catherine abruptly thinks, in no particular order, that she shouldn't be here and that she hopes they don't kick her out.

"Catherine," Danny calls softly and she finds herself freezing absolutely still. "How liquored up do I have to get him to make out with me?" The laugh she barks out is surprised and sudden, almost too loud.

"He's pretty easy," she teases carefully. Steve shoots her an indecipherable look, but his smile is slow and sort of pleased.

"It's made me pretty popular," Steve adds, leaning over the edge of the sofa to pull Danny in by his shirt, slipping a hand into Danny's hair and kissing him thorough and wet. Catherine knows from experience that that's the McGarrett Seal The Deal special, and she's thinking that she should be slipping out of the room right now, but she can't stop watching the rough slide of their mouths together, the way Danny's teeth catch at Steve's lip and god.

She doesn't mean to make a noise, but Steve's hand eases down and his thumb sits just under Danny's jaw, pressing just so, so the kiss gets deeper and rougher, and, well. She's only human.

"Oh," Steve says, a speculative gleam in his eye that she hasn't seen since Buenos Aires and some really ill-conceived and fantastically mind-blowing sex in a glorified closet of a hotel room. "So, you liked that," Danny is flushed and just a little bit wild around the eyes himself.

"I know I did," Danny adds, just this side of provocative. "C'mon, Catherine. What do you want?"

Which is how she finds her Come-to-Jesus moment flipped on its ear into an extremely athletic threesome.

There's a moment, between Round One and a Half and the official start of Round Two, where she's half-lying on Steve with one of her legs enthusiastically draped over Danny's thigh where she wonders if she can get away with using two men for sex, karmically speaking.

Three days later, she's still feeling well-fucked and well-pleased with herself when Danny calls and asks for a satellite image of a freighter in international waters, because Steve is driving- chasing- drug smugglers.

Yeah, she feels pretty justified.