dann_0 | PSL: Sentinel AU

Then Eliot has everything he needs. Pulling up to the Palace, Steve navigates them through the building and into the offices, unlocking the main Five-O office door in the process. "Locker rooms are over there," he points at the appropriate door as he heads to Danny's office. Unlocking the filing cabinet he retrieves the pillow and blanket from the top drawer and deposits them at the end of the leather couch that runs along the wall under the windows before closing the drawer and relocking the cabinet. He takes a second to close all the blinds to give Eliot a better sense of privacy.

"I'll lock you in on my way out. You can get out if you need to but that way you won't be disturbed. Only housekeeping, who has already gone through, and the four of us have keys. I don't expect Kono or Chin to be coming in at all tomorrow but I'm sure you know who they are if they do, just tell them to call me. You can lock Danny's office door as well if you want that extra sense of privacy."

If there's nothing else, Steve will leave him to his own devices for the night.

Eliot trails Steve in, memorizing the floor plan and assessing access points and choke points on the kind of autopilot you never unlearn once it's been ground in deep enough. The building's as full of strange scents as any other, but threaded through it is something warm and familiar, and once Steve opens up their private offices Danny's familiar scent thickens and deepens. There are others, yes, but not as many, and no acrid stink of industrial cleaning products used too often to try and sanitize a too public, too used space.

And then Steve's opening the door to Danny's office and he has to just stop and breathe for a moment as it washes over him, thick and warm and it's terrifying how it feels like home and safety. He forces himself into motion again as Steve collects a pillow and blanket and closes the blinds, setting his duffel down on a chair and hanging the garment bag over the back of it.

"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it." More than just escaping the noise and stink of the hotel.

Steve nods at the thanks. "Don't mention it. Sleep well." And with that he is backing out of Danny's office and heading out the door, taking a moment to lock the main doors and testing them. Back out in the Camaro, he sits for a moment thinking everything over before starting the car and heading back to the house. Danny should be asleep by the time he gets there and even if he wasn't he doesn't have the delicate sense of smell to notice that Eliot's in town.

The next morning starts as it normally does. Steve is up at the crack of dawn and heads out for his morning swim. Sleep didn't fully elude him but it was fitful and no where near as sound as he's used to getting. Back from his swim and out of the shower, Gracie is up watching early morning cartoons and Steve visits with her for a little bit before heading out to meet Eliot. He leaves a note for Danny that he has to go into the office for a bit to explain his absence.

The Palace is still quiet at 7am as Steve makes his way through and back up to Five-O's offices. He knocks on the outside door and noisily unlocks it to let Elliot know of his presence. There's no doubt the other man knows it's him and like picked him up as soon as he entered the building, but one can never be too careful.

Once Steve's gone, Eliot takes the time to shower off the stink of the plane and brush his teeth before getting dressed in fresh clothes, checking all the doors and windows, and going back to Danny's office to settle in. The whole room is permeated with Danny's scent, and even the fact that there are others mingled in (Steve's the only one he recognizes and easily the most prominent) doesn't change how viscerally comforting it is to Eliot.

Still, he takes a moment to dig out the bag he has one of Danny's shirts packed into and breathes deep for a moment. It's saturated not just with Danny's scent, but with his, the two thickly intermingled and threaded through with the thick musk of sex the and almost astringent scent of their mingled come. He doesn't take it out of the bag, he's not crass enough to leave that scent lingering in a room Steve will have to frequent, but he leaves the bag open nearby for the comfort of their mingled scents overlaying the thicker warmth of Danny's permeating the room. And then he curls under a blanket that smells like safety and home and his, and lays his head on a pillow that smells almost exactly the same, on a couch that's just as saturated with the same scent... and sleeps better than he has in over fifteen years.

_____________________________________

He's waiting in the main office when Steve gets there at seven, hair damp from another shower after starting the day with sit-ups, push-ups and some basic yoga: all he could manage while locked into the office. It's enough, though, especially considering how remarkably well-rested he is, and he looks up from where he's been reading Hardison's latest email on his laptop when he catches the sound of Steve's footsteps, then his heartbeat, entering the building.

He's already closing the computer and standing up, reaching for the garment bag he has slung over the back of one of the chairs when Steve knocks noisily and lets himself in. "Hey man, ready to get this show on the road?"

"Good morning," he says in lieu of greeting, "I am." As it appears Eliot is too, Steve holds open the door than locks it behind him before heading back down to the car. Steve still has the Camaro. He left his truck keys out for Danny if he and Grace needed or wanted to go anywhere.

While Steve is determined to adjust to having Eliot in his life, especially his scent, he needs to have some place that's as Eliot free until that adjustment sets in. The easiest place he could come up with is his truck. Danny barely gets in it as it is and they don't use it for work. Even secondary scent should be faint to nonexistent there. For right now, in person, he added fresh Vicks under his nose this morning.

"How'd ya sleep? Couch not too uncomfortable?" Because really, Eliot looks like he slept fairly well. Certainly better than Steve.

"Slept great. You guys got a good furniture budget, that couch is better than probably eighty percent of hotel mattresses I've ever slept on." Though, really, Danny's scent is what did it. He probably would have slept just as well on cold concrete so long as he was surrounded by the warmth of Danny's scent.

"My partner sent me some more information this morning. A couple options for getting in to collect DNA, and some good leads for putting pressure on the husband. You were right about Noshimuri, man, good call."

Steve can't help but laugh at that. He's slept on those couches and knows that their comfort is secondary to their looks. "You need to start sleeping in a better class of hotel," he jokes but he knows that it was Danny's scent as well. It's what does it for Steve when he sleeps too.

"Can't say I'm surprised, but I am disappointed." After the commissioner, Steve had really hoped that Stan had learned his lesson and shaped up, but Steve expected that Stan was a businessman first. His integrity and morals came second. "At the same time I'm thankful we have something to use. How are you thinking about getting the DNA?"

Back outside the Palace, Steve unlocks the doors of the Camaro and gets into the driver's seat. "You like pancakes?"

"Most times I do, these days," he answers, eyebrows and lips both twitching up a little. "Still never gonna be ideal, though." Which Steve obviously knows.

"Yeah, well, businessmen... even the supposedly decent ones'll get into some pretty questionable shit if the payoff's big enough. No proof the husband's actually involved personally, but there's shit goin' on that'd tank his career if it came out. And so far it looks like none of it's bad enough that sittin' on it's doin' more'n screwing over some other big competitors an' the tax code. Hardison's diggin' 'round to make sure, though." Because they're not going to let innocent folks get trampled underfoot to suit themselves if it comes to it.

He hoists up the garment bag before leaning in to hang it in the back of the Camaro. "Mr. an' Mrs. Edwards might have an unfortunate problem with their security system today, need a service tech t'come out an' take a look at things for them."

"I hear you there," Steve says in agreement.

"It's understandable too. Noshimuri owns a good chunks of this island. Most of it is a front though for Yakuza business. We've managed to tighten down on some of it but I'm sure you know how it goes." It's frustrating how there's always seems to be another but Steve knows they're making progress as well. "Now that Hiro's dead though I'm not sure Stan wanting off the island is fully a coincidence." It almost seems like the timing is too perfect.

"Well it's a good thing there's one in the neighborhood." He smiles at that plan. It will certainly get Eliot into the house with good reason. Hopefully the housekeeper doesn't follow him around like a puppy. "I can get you a white van from impound if you want one. Won't have the company logo, but that will likely go unnoticed."

"Yeah, that might line up a little too well," Eliot agrees. "We'll see what else my buddy finds, but it's not soundin' like the kinda thing he can walk away from unscathed." So he shouldn't be able to squirm away, and if Rachel's committed to the lifestyle she married into... and hopefully to the man she married, for that matter, well, it sounds like it should be enough to get them what they need.

"Yeah, handy how that's workin' out for them today, isn't it?" His return smile's decidedly predatory. "That'd make things easier, but if there's a chance it'd come back to bite you on the ass, Hardison's got a line on a place I could rent one... an' if we call this plan a go, he might already have a magnetized logo ready for me t'pick up at a local shop." If anything, his smile stretches farther at that.

"Good! I wonder how he's going to take finding out that Charlie's not his..." For all Steve knows, the other man is already aware and doesn't care. Danny is an exception to fatherly concern as far as Steve is concerned. "Not that I'm all that concerned if it causes issues in their marriage. Rachel's gotten used to living the lifestyle, I'm sure she'll do what she can to keep it." Steve's about to say they'll go for full-time custody of the kids, but he stops himself. That's not his place. Instead he asks, "You like kids?"

Steve looks over at Eliot with a raised eyebrow. "You don't cut any corners!" Not that he's complaining. The grin on Eliot's face tells him that the man enjoys his work and gets a good deal of satisfaction out of. He has no trouble understanding why if it's all about sticking it to people who get away with more than they should. His eyes move back to the road. "It shouldn't be a problem for me to get the van. Especially if I promise I'm not going to blow this one up." He smiles himself at that. Maybe he shouldn't but he's quite proud of his reputation.

Coming around a corner he pulls into a small diner with a sign over the door that screams 'mom and pop shop'. "It doesn't look like much," he juts his chin out towards the building, "but they cook everything from scratch and without a lot of oils and extras. It's one of the few places I can eat without either dialing my sense of taste down to nothing or getting sick after."

"So long as it doesn't fuck over Danny, I gotta admit I don't much care either," Eliot admits, voice tight. "Just wanna make sure he gets to be a father to his kids." Eliot's barely known Danny over a week and it's already clear how much he adores his little girl, and how important fatherhood is to him, the fact his ex is denying him the right to be a father to his son is indefensible.

"Kids?" Eliot shrugs a little, refusing to read into the question. "Yeah. I mean, I haven't spent a lot of time around them, but I like them well enough. Even wanted a couple once upon a time." Back before he'd realized that there was no way in hell he could have anything like a normal life. Before he'd become a monster.

"Yeah, well, about ninety percent of sellin' a con is gettin' the details right. Little details'll niggle at someone, make them suspicious." And this needs to go off smooth on the first try. "Blow it up? Seriously?" Eliot snorts in amusement. "Yeah, lets try an' avoid that."

He looks at their destination and nods. "Some of the best food I've had all over the world's been little hole in the wall places. Don't need t'be fancy t'be good." Especially with their built in biases and limitations. "I can eat just about anything if I have to-" And he's had to more times than he likes to remember. "But fresh and unprocessed is definitely my go to when I get a choice. This place sounds perfect."

"I expect Rachel will try to place the blame for all of this on Danny's shoulders. That seems to be her modus operandi. It won't be that she kept it a secret, but that he exposed it and then made a big deal about it." Steve liked her well enough when he met her, but he doesn't appreciate the way she treats Danny. With any luck she's smart enough to realize that even without Stan they will make her life miserable if she doesn't treat Danny fairly.

Steve nods, he gets it. "I was terrible with kids before Grace, but she's easy to be around, and she's made it easier for me to be around other kids. At least ones her age." He bites his lip and frowns a moment. "I don't have a clue in what to do with a kid Charlie's age." There's no doubt he'll figure it out, or Grace will show him. He's reassured that Eliot is at least open to the idea of being around children. Grace is easy to love so that really all she needs to get fully settled in and have Eliot wrapped around her finger.

"I swear none of them were intentional... Well except the time I drove the police car onto the moving cargo ship... I knew the car wasn't going to survive that, but in my defense I didn't blow it up either." It was just full of bullet holes and the 'Dukes of Hazzard' jump to get the car on the freighter had messed up the frame. He shrugged and grinned, that's what carpool loaners were for though - the times that were too dangerous to use their regular vehicles. "But yeah, I don't think that's really a risk this time around."

From the time Steve had become a sentinel he'd always been a picky eater. He can force himself to eat what's available if need be, but he's much prefers foods high in natural fats and nutrients - fish, dark colored veggies, nuts. All that being said, he also likes MRE's which doesn't fully make sense but with how much time he's spent in the field it was either grow to like them or go without.

Inside the restaurant is about half full, free tables scattered about. An older woman of Hawaiian heritage smiles in acknowledgment of Steve and watches where they sit. Once she's done with the table she was helping she brings menus for them and fresh coffee. "I recommend the pancakes with the pineapple syrup, but everything on the menu is fantastic."

"Yeah, well, that's why we need t'make sure we've got proof for him up front: so she can't guilt him for daring to accuse her." Because a week is long enough to have realized that Danny will tie himself into knots to avoid hurting the people he cares about, and his ex is clearly still on that list. But when it comes to his kids... well, Eliot can't see him just writing his son off to avoid inconveniencing his ex-wife, no matter how much he might still care about her.

"Babies are easy." He shrugs. "Change 'em, feed 'em, talk to them lots an' give 'em things to look at. It's when they get older they get t'be more of a handful, but more interesting t'be around too." An assessment that makes it clear he's had at least some experience with both babies and older kids.

"Dukes of Hazzard?" He smirks and shakes his head, amused. "Seriously?" It's easy, just hanging out talking with Steve, to not think about the fact that he's Danny's, that no matter what the Guide thinks or wants, that there is going to be an inevitable tension between them and their needs and how Danny meets them both. He likes the guy, can relate to his experiences and his outlook, but he's also the reason Eliot's likely going to end up going not so slowly crazy on his own again sooner or later.

Eliot follows Steve into the restaurant, automatically scoping it out for lines of sight and possible escape routes, and when they settle into a booth he takes a seat that lets him keep an eye on everything. He glances briefly at the menu and sips his coffee--remarkably decent and not burnt--then decides to just go with Steve's recommendation when the waitress comes back.

"So, since you're good with me connin' my way in I can have Hardison set it up for this afternoon. Get in, get some hair or a dirty diaper or somethin', an' get it to a local lab for rush testing. From there it's just tellin' Danny an' laying the options out for him so he can decide how he wants t'handle it."

"That she lied about something like this is going to devastate him. I'm hoping that will help him avoid the guilt and push for what he deserves." And, he'll have Eliot and his support through all of this. It's a relief to Steve to know that Eliot is already behind Danny on this. That the prospect of two kids and a fight with the ex-wife isn't enough to scare him off. Danny told him that he and the distance were Eliot's biggest concerns and he's hoping that he's putting to rest the one and he'll help take care of the other.

"See, it's the changing and feeding that concern me." He chuckles lightly. "The first time Grace ate at my place she had to explain that children her age didn't really like grilled ahi and steamed veggies, that it was too boring. We ended up ordering pizza." A smile lights up his face with the memory. "You'll like Gracie. She's a lot like her father but without the rants, temper, and the waving arms."

Steve grinned and nodded. "Seriously. Getting rid of the high end criminal element tends to come with a fair amount of destruction." He shrugged. As far as Steve was concerned it was just an element of his job. It wasn't that he tried to blow things up, and a lot of the time it wasn't him that either caused the explosion or shot something all to hell, but those he was after. "But we do get the job done. Crime rate has gone down considerably since Five-O came into being and our conviction rate is high. Half that time we operated under a corrupt politician, but we cleaned that up along with the corruption in the police department. Not to mention bringing down the Yakuza and preventing the Jersey mob from setting up shop." He's proud of their accomplishments.

After they both place their orders, Steve sips his coffee and gives most of his attention to Eliot, the rest is keeping an eye on the doors and the other patrons, watching and listening for any signs of something out of place. "Sounds good." He nods in agreement. "So far you haven't suggested doing anything I don't approve of." There's no reason for him to shut things down or ask for things to be done a different way as far as he can see. "If you don't have a lab lined up, there's someone I can ask in the crime lab. He's a good guy and has done things for us on the down low before - quick and discreet."

"Yeah, that's-" He pauses and shakes his head, scowling. "Fuck that. I could see it if he was abusive or toxic." But he's clearly not. She's keeping him in the dark to shield herself, and Eliot can't shake the low level simmering rage over that. It's going to make dealing with her on the con challenging, but he knows he can manage.

"Dunno, man, haven't really seen the rants or temper yet," he has to admit, which... aches a bit, honestly. The reminder that he doesn't know Danny all that well, not compared to the Sentinel who's been his partner and best friend for heading towards three years now. "Gotta feeling that's likely to change in pretty short order, though." His lips twitch up into a wry smile, because he's pretty sure Danny's going to have an assortment of very strong opinions on their weekend's activities... and Eliot's career.

"Great, we'll use your guy, then. My partner's got a couple options lined up that'd do us a rush job for the right price, but if you've got someone you know and trust that's always better." He pulls out his phone and taps out a message to Hardison before going back to his coffee, somewhat more relaxed than usual with the knowledge that someone just as keyed up as him is keeping an eye out as well. "Okay, told Hardison it's a go on the security system for this afternoon. He'll get back t'me with the details on where we need to be an' when as soon as he's got the time frame worked out."

"You will," Steve says with a knowing grin. "Danny's probably the most passionate person I know. He uses an array of emotions to their full extent. The day we met, he decked me." Steve could still feel the ache in his jaw from that punch but he's still grinning. "Although to be fair, I had gotten him shot. I expect you've gotten to know a different side of him." A side of him Steve doesn't and will never get to know. That thought has him looking away from Eliot and their table to survey the crowd in the restaurant as the grin fades.

In the far corner of the restaurant is a booth with what looks to Steve like a family. Father and daughter, a little girl maybe about the age of three, are facing him and he can see she's not happy - her arms are crossed with her head down and from what he can see her face is a scowl. The father doesn't look all that happy himself as he leans over and appears to be lecturing her. Mostly out of curiosity, but also concern, Steve increases his hearing and focuses it in their direction. It turns out to be just a normal scolding. What fascinates Steve though and keeps his attention is the little girl. She starts turning red and it looks to him like she might be holding her breath. Starting to become concerned he focuses his hearing more on her, it sounds like she's inhaling, but it doesn't stop with a normal breath.

Still listening to Eliot, Steve nods and pulls out his cell phone to text Charlie Fong. His hearing is still directed at the child, expecting her to pass out or start choking and wanting to be ready to assist should that happen. Once the text is sent, he looks briefly at Eliot, "Sounds good. I've sent Fong a text, he's used to us needing him at odd hours so I should hear back if he's available relatively quickly."

Steve's not used to being around children, certainly not children who throw tantrums so he is in no way prepared when this little three year old in pigtails suddenly tilts her head back, opens her mouth and lets out a high pitched scream. With his hearing so finely tuned and sensitive on her the noise just cuts through his head, like an explosion going off in his ear. The impact of the noise startles him, throwing him back in his seat. His face contorts in pain as his hands come up to cover his ears.

Eliot barks out a startled laugh at Steve's explanation, eyes crinkling slightly as he grins at the image. "Yeah, I guess I prob'ly have," he agrees, applying himself to his coffee as Steve looks away again in fairly clear discomfort. And that's what stops him from saying anything about having plenty of time to learn the rest, because there's no point in rubbing the guy's nose in the situation... especially since god knows how long it'll actually last, anyway.

He follows the direction of Steve's sudden interest, looking over his shoulder briefly at a father and daughter across the restaurant, then leaving Steve to whatever's caught his attention as he drinks his coffee. "Great. I'd like t'have the results to show him by tomorrow if possible, just... get it out there an' help him figure out how to handle it." And by then Hardison should have anything even remotely useful on the ex and her new husband.

The waitress returns with their food and Eliot thanks her and starts to dig in, just as piercing screech rips through the room and Steve reacts almost like he's been shot. Eliot winces in pain, but he hadn't really been paying the pair any mind, his hearing dialed down to its lowest resting level since there wasn't anything in the room demanding his attention. He knows exactly how Steve feels, though, and he leans in to try and catch his eye. He doesn't say anything, though, there's no point when the other Sentinel's obviously just gotten an ice pick right to the brain.

For several seconds, Steve is lost in sensation. The scream was piercing enough that he can feel a zone threatening but as only one sense was over-stimulated, he knows he should be able to pull himself out of it. One of the benefits of military training - a sentinel who zoned off of one sense wasn't very useful in the field, even with a guide, therefore that was one of the first things they trained him how to manage.

His instinctual reaction is to pull his hearing back as quickly as possible but he knows from experience that leads to other problems. Instead he sticks his fingers in his ears to block out the sound as much as possible. While it feels like his ear drums are being torn apart he knows that's not the case. Physically his ears didn't become more sensitive and are just fine, this is literally all in his head.. Focusing on the pain, he forces himself to take a breath deeply - in for four, hold for four, out for four, then repeat. Once he gets the pattern down he links his auditory perception to the internal counting and uses that to bring his hearing back into a more normal, then low, range.

Once he has things under control, taking under a minute, he removes his fingers from his ears and opens his eyes. It takes another second to orientated himself. He feels out of sorts and now has a splitting headache, but the zone has backed off. He's fine. A couple of aspirin wouldn't go amiss, but otherwise, he's fine. Quickly looking around, no one really seems to have noticed his odd behaviour, no one except Eliot that is.

Pulling a small pill container out of one of his cargo pants pockets he takes two aspirin with a drink of water before meeting the other man's eyes. "Well, that wasn't fun." Scrunching up his face, he pushes himself to think past the pain. "Uh... You were saying... Having the results for tomorrow. Yeah... I think that should be doable if we can connect with Fong this afternoon." His phone pings and he looks down to read the message and nods. "He's on board. We just need to text him when we have the samples."

Eliot watches Steve intently, though without seeming to, as the other man works to get himself back under control. The measured breathing is a relief, proof that he's managing to keep himself from disappearing into his own head, and after a moment Eliot starts eating. They're less likely to draw attention this way than if he sits there staring at Steve.

He pushes Steve's water glass a little closer to him when he finally drops his hands and opens his eyes again, figuring a drink might help at least a little bit. "Yeah, was bad enough as it was from my end," he agrees quietly. If he'd been dialed in tight on it the way Steve obviously had been it would have been excruciating. Eliot doesn't bother asking Steve if he's all right, though. He clearly isn't, but he'll just as clearly function anyway, the way they've both been trained to.

Eliot's phone pings not long after and he reads Hardison's latest message. "Okay, if we can be ready by eleven he can have things ready t'go," he tells Steve after scanning it. "That enough time to get our hands on a van and hit the print shop he's sent the logos to?"

With the food in front of him, Steve slowly starts to eat. Nothing quite smells or tastes right, but he knows that's a result of the headache, not the food itself. Messing too much with his other senses right now, after being overwhelmed and with his current headache, without the help of a guide though is definitely a mistake. He'll just deal for the time being.

When Eliot's phone pings again, Steve gives up on the food and pushes his dish away half eaten. "Plan for about thirty minutes to get the van from the yard..." He looks at his watching, adding in travel time and estimating time to get the logos. "Yeah I don't see why not." He finishes his coffee in a swallow. "You about ready to go?"

Pulling out his wallet he takes out a twenty dollar bill and leaves it on the table. That should more than cover their breakfast and leave a good tip.

Eliot probably shouldn't be surprised at how easy it is to work with Steve. They're both highly trained professionals and aware of the basics of each other's abilities and limitations, and the whole process is almost ridiculously smooth.

Steve procures them an unmarked van with a minimum of fuss, they pick up the magnetic decals Hardison's already got waiting for them at a nearby print shop then park in an alley for Steve to do a quick job of slapping them on, while Eliot changes into the appropriate one of the uniforms Hardison had packed into the garment bag for him. There's a tablet computer and a small tool kit tucked into the bag as well, so he looks like he's actually prepared to work on the system.

They're in position and waiting when Hardison spikes the system, rerouting the alarm signal so their provider never has a clue it's been activated, then calls them himself to apologize for the malfunction and arrange for an immediate service call. From there it takes less than half an hour for him to con his way in, make appropriate noises about needing to check all the cameras and alarms, and manage to shake his escort as Rachel loses interest in following him from room to room in favor of going back to work on something in the kitchen... which gives him the minute he needs to (jesus, how is this his life?!) retrieve a soiled diaper from the pail in the nursery, shove it into a ziplock, and bury it in the bottom of his tool kit. He kills ten more minutes pretending to check the rest of the cameras, hooks Hardison's tablet up to the system and waits while the hacker reboots it remotely and pronounces their problem solved, then makes his escape with Rachel none the wiser. Though, christ, Steve hadn't been kidding: he didn't even need to pick the kid up to catch the distinctive scent that clearly identified him as Danny's, and it took all of Eliot's self-control not to bristle and snatch the kid away.

Having to retrieve the dirty diaper is almost worth it for the looks on both Steve and his lab tech buddy's faces when he pulls it out and they realize where the DNA's going to have to come from. "Once this is sorted out, Danny'd better appreciate that I went fishin' in a damn diaper pail for that, is all I'm gonna say," Eliot's saying as they head back into 5-0's offices, grinning and bumping his shoulder companionably against Steve's. "'Cause that was some serious toxic waste."

"Who could imagine that a child that small could produce so much... And the smell..." Steve is still trying to get the smell of poop out of his nostrils, but he's grinning as Eliot bumps his shoulder. Besides the headache he hasn't been able to shake since the screaming banshee at the restaurant that morning, they've had a pretty damn good day and he's happy with their progress.

Working with Eliot has been exceptionally easy. Much easier than Steve would have suspected considering they are both sentinels. The territorial competitive nature that he's been lead to believe prevents them from being on the same team just isn't there. It's not only that though. Eliot is simply easy to get along with, even enjoyable to be with. Instead of feeling like they've just met and are in competition for a guide, it feels more like Eliot is an old teams buddy who he worked extensively with but hasn't seen in a few years - they've picked up like no time has passed. Its been companionable and better than he could have hoped for.

"I'm going to owe Fong big time for this!" He jokes. "But you could smell it too, couldn't you? The scent that's distinctly Danny." Steve may have known Danny longer, but he expects Eliot has already ingrained his scent, and likely has a sentinel reaction off of it as well. Reaching the main office, Steve opens the door for Eliot. There's no doubt in Steve's mind that Charlie is Danny's. He doesn't need Eliot or a DNA test to confirm it but he's not really asking for confirmation either. It's more that they are partners in this. This is something that they could do for Danny together, and if they could do this, maybe they could share the guide aspect as well. It's a hope he didn't really have before. A situation that still wasn't ideal, but maybe they could make work.

Eliot huffs a laugh at Steve's reaction, eyes crinkling with amusement. "You weren't the one that had t'open up a diaper pail full of 'em and fish one out," he points out, grinning easily. He'd almost forgotten what it was like, working with someone who knows what he is and can do, not having to fake at being normal. It's... nice, even if it's not nice enough to ever be worth letting the military find out about him again.

"Yeah." He sobers at the question. "I didn't even need t'get close to him to catch it." And he pushes a hand through his hair, frustrated. It had pinged every possessive, protective instinct he has, to smell Danny on the kid, and leaving him there had been hard. "Kinda wanted to just grab him and run," he admits, frowning and following Steve through the door before heading for Danny's office.

Clasping a hand on Eliot's shoulder, Steve grins. "It's a dirty job, and I'm so very thankfully that you had to do it and it wasn't me!" One diaper was bad enough, smelling a whole pail of them. Steve would have needed a hell of a lot of Vicks to get him through that. He's finding the same, it feels good to be able to be himself without having to hide or watch what he says so others don't figure out he's different and to joke actually about it. It's not enough though to go back to active duty for though, it wasn't the same there anyway.

Steve nods. "Yeah, I understand that. Letting Grace go back to her mother's and seeing how much Danny misses her..." It takes all that he has not to go get her and hide her away just for Danny at times, especially when Rachel messes up their schedule or books fun things for her to do with her friends on his weekends.

Getting to Danny's office first, Steve opens the door and heads inside. The smell hits him right away but his momentum gets him into the room before he's trying to figure out what exactly it is he's smelling. It's Danny, but not in a way he's used to smelling Danny. Second to touch, smell is Steve's strongest sense. When focused, he can break down the different particles in the air and identify individual components. Normally it's not something he'd get that detailed with without a guide but that scent... It teases at him, pulls him in. Perhaps if he didn't still have a headache and his hearing wasn't already off from the screaming banshee this morning, or if he'd been getting any sleep the past couple of nights, or he'd actually spent any quality time with his guide beyond a few minutes on the couch in the last week, not to mention the worry about Charlie's parentage and the new guide/sentinel arrangements that had been playing on his mind, perhaps if it wasn't all of those things combined he may have realized that he was slipping down the rabbit hole known as a zone. But, as it was, he didn't realize any of the usually warning signs. Instead he was completely focused on identifying exactly what that strange scent was.

Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Re: Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot

Steve Call to Eliot