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Part 2 of The Underwear Affair
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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The Underwear Affair: How the Leopard Got His Spots

Summary:

When Danny is kidnapped, will his brief message allow Steve to reach him in time?  And, if it does, will they both live to regret it, anyway?  The partners must face the unintended consequences of a very private gift.  Set in the (slash) universe of “The Telephone Rang.”

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“Leopard print?” Danny Williams exclaimed, looking at the pair of briefs he held.  “And these can’t possibly be my size!”

“There are zebra and tiger stripes, too,” Steve McGarrett said, folding back the tissue paper in the cardboard box resting on the coffee table to reveal these alternate selections.  “I like the leopard best, though.  And they’re the same size as the ones you have in the dresser—they’re meant to be small.”

Danny gave his partner a desperate look.  “Steve, I admit I needed some new underwear, and I really appreciate that you thought of me while you were on the mainland, but I can’t possibly wear these!”

“Why not?  I think you’ll look great in them,” McGarrett said with a gleam in his eye.

“What if I get shot or something?  I’d be the laughingstock of the hospital!  And if the guys found out....”  Danny shuddered.

Steve looked thoughtful.  “It’s true, I wouldn’t want the nurses ogling you in those.  How about you wear them on your days off, when you’re not going to get shot?  For me?” he asked, giving his partner a bat of his eyelashes.

Williams sighed, returning the leopard briefs to the box.  “When you put it that way, I suppose I’ll have to....”


A week later, McGarrett, sitting at his kitchen table, looked at his watch for the fourth time.  7:30...Danno’s half an hour late.  Well, yesterday was a long day at work.  I’ll let him sleep in a bit more.  He rose to put the prepared omelet ingredients back into the refrigerator.

After tidying and dusting the living room and bedroom, Steve checked the time again.  8:05...I’ll give him a call and make sure he’s up....  He picked up the receiver and dialed the familiar number.

The telephone rang, with no answer.

Maybe he’s on his way over right now, Steve thought, the first stirrings of worry in the back of his mind.  But wouldn’t he have called to tell me he’d be late?

By nine, McGarrett was pacing the length of his living room, having tried calling Danny’s apartment twice more.  Where the hell is he?  I’m probably overreacting, but....

He picked up the phone again and dialed.

“Central Dispatch,” came the voice at the other end.

“This is McGarrett.  Patch me through to Dan Williams’ car.”

There was a pause, then Central Dispatch came back on the line.  “I’m sorry, he’s not answering.”

“Keep trying,” Steve ordered.  That’s it.  I’m going over there.  If it’s just a mix-up, well, I’ll apologize to him for making a fuss.  But if it isn’t....


A short time later, McGarrett stood beside his car in the parking lot of Danny’s apartment building, snapping orders into the radio.  “...yes, a black LTD.  And patch me through to Chin Ho Kelly.”

“Kelly here,” came his detective’s voice.  “I thought you and Danny were taking the day off.”

“Chin, Danny’s missing,” the head of Five-O said, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.  “He was supposed to come to my place at seven for breakfast, then we were going horseback riding.  Nothing looks out of the ordinary at his apartment, but his car is gone.”

“It’s only nine-thirty, Steve.  Maybe he just forgot and went somewhere else?” Kelly suggested.

“No way,” Steve said, shaking his head.  “You know we don’t get days off together that often.  Also, his riding boots were at his apartment, and they’re gone.  I checked with HPD and there’s no record of an automobile accident, so I had them put out an alert for Danny and the car.”

“Do you think this could have something to do with the Salvato appeal?” Chin asked, sounding worried now.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” McGarrett said grimly.  “Even though there were no signs of a struggle, I’d like a fingerprint team here to go over Danny’s apartment.  And pull up everything we’ve got on Salvato’s associates.  I’ll be in the office shortly.”


So, I’m not going to get shot on my days off, huh? Danny thought ruefully, trying to keep his balance in the swaying vehicle.  His head and the left side of his body ached from where he had been slammed into the side of his car, and the handcuffs holding his wrists behind his back were uncomfortably tight.  At least the fact that they’ve blindfolded me probably means they’re not ready to kill me right away.  I wonder how long until Steve starts looking for me?


Kono burst into McGarrett’s office.  “Steve!  HPD found Danny’s car!  It’s in a lot on Young Street where they’re doing construction on a new building.”

The head of Five-O abruptly turned from the board of pictures of Salvato’s known associates that he had been discussing with Chin Ho.  “Any sign of Danny?” he demanded.

Kono sadly shook his head.  “No.  They found some blood in the car, but not...not enough to say....” he trailed off.

“Chin, hold the fort here,” McGarrett ordered.  “Send Che and a lab team to go over the car with a fine-toothed comb.  Kono, you’re with me.”

On the short drive to where Danny’s car had been found, McGarrett tried to force himself to remain calm.  It looks like they didn’t want to kill him on the spot, so maybe their plan is to keep him on ice until after the appeal.  Without Danno’s testimony, Salvato will almost certainly walk.  I’ll have to call Manicote and see if the judge will delay the trial.  Of course, the other possibility is that they’re planning to dump his body somewhere it won’t be found, the head of Five-O thought grimly, pressing down harder on the accelerator.

Pulling into the construction site with a last screech of tires, Steve immediately saw Danny’s car, the front end crumpled against a pile of cement blocks and the right side dented in and marred with streaks of white paint.  As he crossed to the car, Duke Lukela came to meet him.

“We found some blood on the driver’s side window,” Duke reported.  “The driver’s door was open.”

McGarrett examined the car.  “It looks like someone ran him off the road,” he said, looking in the window.  There are Danny’s riding boots on the floor.  Whoever took him was probably waiting for him to leave his apartment....

As Che Fong’s car pulled up, Steve turned to his detective.  “Kono, I want you to canvass the neighborhood for witnesses who may have seen or heard the collision.  Take some HPD officers to help you.”

“Right, Boss!” Kono said, hurrying off.

McGarrett impatiently watched Che work as the construction site rapidly accreted vehicles, HPD cars and lab team members, followed by some civilians.

“Mr. McGarrett!” called a reporter.  “Is it true that your second-in-command is missing?”

“It looks like there was some sort of accident—was it your man’s fault?” demanded another.

“What about the Salvato trial?  I hear Williams was set to testify....” a better-informed member of the press corps said.

“Keep these men back!” McGarrett ordered an HPD officer.  “Cordon off the site.”

As the reporters were herded across the street, protesting, Che Fong waved to McGarrett.  “Steve!” he called.  “Some preliminary results....”

“What have you got?” the head of Five-O demanded, hurrying to where the small lab chief waited beside Danny’s car.

“First, no unidentified fingerprints, but there are smudges on the door handles over Danny’s prints,” Che reported.

“Gloves,” Steve said.

The lab chief nodded.  “Now if you look here, you can see there’s some blood on the window and door.”  He indicated the dark red splashes.  “The type matches Danny’s.  I think he may have hit his head on the window when the car was run off the road.”

“Can you give me anything about the car that hit him?” McGarrett demanded.

“I think I can,” Che said, leading Steve around to the passenger side of the car.  “The other vehicle was white, but I don’t think it was a car.  See how high up the side the paint transfer goes?  I’d say we’re looking for some sort of truck or van.”

Steve examined the dented and scraped side of the car.  “Tire marks?”

Fong shook his head.  “Nothing identifiable on this gravel.”

“Keep at it, Che,” McGarrett said.  As he returned to his car to check in with Chin back at the office, he caught sight of Kono and an HPD officer arriving, an elderly local woman in tow.

“I don’t know if it means anything, Boss, but this lady says she saw a van driving away from here real fast this morning,” Kono said, as Steve came to meet them.

“I was out on my front porch, and he drove right over the corner of my lawn!” she complained.  “Tore up my grass and didn’t even slow down!”

“What did the van look like?” McGarrett demanded.

“It was white, with a red sign on the side,” she said.  “Something Deli...I couldn’t make out the name.”

“Che!” Steve called, and when the lab chief hurried over, continued, “This lady saw a white van drive over her lawn this morning.  It sounds like there could be tire tracks.”

“I’ll go get my kit.”  Che Fong hurried off.

“Kono, I want everyone searching for that van.  They’ve had Danny for....”  Steve looked at his watch.  “More than three hours now, so he could be anywhere on the island.”

“How’d you know Danny was in trouble so soon?” Kono asked curiously.

“We were meeting for breakfast,” McGarrett said shortly.  “Now, get going.  I’ll be back at the office.  I want to check something....”


Danny looked at his watch.  I’m seven hours overdue for breakfast...surely Steve will have half the island searching for me by now, he thought.  He paced the confines of the small room and adjoining closet-sized bathroom, looking for anything he could use to escape.  Just old boxes and scraps of junk, he observed, and no windows.  His head ached, and he wished he could lie down somewhere more comfortable than the floor.  At least they re-cuffed my hands in front....

While examining the sturdy door to his prison, he heard raised voices outside.

“What are we gonna do?  The cops are looking for the van!” exclaimed a worried-sounding voice.

“They’re looking for a van.  They don’t know it’s us,” said another man contemptuously.  “If you just keep your cool, it will be no problem.”

“On the radio they said it had the word ‘Deli’ on the side in red letters!  That could bring them right to me!” said the first voice, sounding panicked.

“If you two had painted over all the lettering like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” said a third voice, with the ring of authority.  “Where’s the van now?”

“I ran out of paint, and there was no time to get more.  I covered the name!” protested the worried man.

“The van’s in a chop shop in Chinatown,” the second man said.  “Give us some credit.  I say we dispose of the cop, too.”

“Not without orders, and certainly not here,” said the authoritative voice crisply.  “This place is too closely associated with the Boss.  We’re just going to have to move him.”

“But where?  Since they picked up the Boss, no one wants to touch us!” complained the second man.

“I’ll make some calls.  Get a car around to the back.  He’ll have to go in the trunk,” the man in charge ordered.  “And don’t screw this up, or it won’t be just the cop getting disposed of.”

As the voices in the room outside were replaced by the sounds of footsteps, Danny reflected on what he had heard.  ‘Deli’ huh?  And ‘The Boss’ was picked up?  I must be in back at the store we looked at during the Salvato case!  We were sure he was using it as a front, but we never had enough proof for a charge.  That means that the purpose of all this is surely to keep me from testifying at Salvato’s appeal tomorrow.  I have to leave some sort of message for Steve, to let him know I was here.

Five-O’s second-in-command once again searched the room for something he could use.  They took my jacket and emptied my pockets, so I can’t leave a note or my badge, and anyway, I expect Salvato’s men will wipe the room clean after they move me.  I need something that will be meaningful to Steve, but that the kidnappers won’t think anything of....

Danny mentally inventoried the items still in his possession.  Well, there’s one thing I know Steve would recognize, he thought with a grim smile.  He sat down on the floor and started untying his shoelaces.


McGarrett was pacing behind his desk, arguing with District Attorney Manicote.  “John, I know Salvato is responsible for kidnapping Danny.  Nothing else makes sense!”

“Steve, I told you,” Manicote said tiredly, leaning forward in his seat.  “I talked to the judge, and his position is that unless you have evidence of Salvato’s involvement, the trial will continue as scheduled.”

Steve stopped and glared across his desk at the District Attorney.  “So Salvato walks, and then afterwards they kill Danny?  If...if they’re keeping him alive at all I’m sure it’s as a last-ditch bargaining chip,” he said angrily.

“If you don’t want that to happen, then find me some evidence,” Manicote said in frustration.  “Otherwise, my hands are tied!”

“If you think....” McGarrett began.

He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Chin Ho Kelly, carrying a file folder.  “I found it, Steve!” he called.  “Antonio’s Produce and Deli, on Kawaiahao Street.  The owner has a white Ford van registered, and Che says that’s consistent with the tire tracks from the scene.”

“Good, Chin.  Let’s go!” the head of Five-O declared, already on his way to the door.


In front of the small shop, McGarrett climbed out of his Mercury as Chin and Kono pulled up behind him.

“Are you Antonio Cercola?” he demanded of the small, worried proprietor who answered his vigorous knock on the closed shop door.

“Yes, yes, that’s me,” the man said.  “But I’m afraid we’re closed Sundays.  I was just here restocking....”

“We’re not customers, we’re Five-O.  We have reason to believe your store is being used for illegal activities, namely, kidnapping,” Steve snapped.

“No, no, no, there’s nothing bad going on here!  I just run a market, a deli!” Cercola protested.

“Do you own a white Ford van with your store name on the side in red lettering?” Kono asked.

“Yes, I do.  But...but when I come in this morning, it wasn’t there!” the proprietor claimed.

“Stolen?” McGarrett asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I thought maybe one of the boys borrowed it,” the grocer said, spreading his hands and shrugging.  “But it could be stolen, I don’t know.”

“Well, we’d better check your premises for evidence of a break-in,” Steve declared.

“Wait...wait, that’s not necessary, I’m sure it was just borrowed....” the small man protested ineffectually as the Five-O detectives strode through the store.

In the back room, McGarrett carefully inspected the tall piles of crates and boxes of produce.  “There’s a door behind these pineapples,” he declared.  “Chin, Kono, help me move them!”

The three detectives quickly shifted the rampart of boxes from in front of the door.  “That lock looks new, Steve,” Chin observed.

“Open it!” McGarrett snapped at the anxiously waiting grocer.

“It’s just got my canned goods....” Cercola protested, but he took out a ring of keys and undid both the regular door lock and the shiny new padlock.

Steve flung the door back to reveal a small space half filled with stacked boxes of canned Spam and soup, but otherwise unoccupied.  I suppose I had half hoped to find Danny.... he thought with a stab of disappointment.

“See, I tell you!” the grocer exclaimed, trying to pull the door shut around the obstruction of Steve.

“Search the room for any sign Danny was here,” McGarrett ordered his detectives.  “If you find anything, be careful about fingerprints.”

A few minutes later, their search was interrupted by Kono’s laughter.  “Well, I found something, Boss,” he said, standing from where he had been searching in a pile of empty boxes and debris in one corner.  “Someone here sure has funny taste in underwear!”  He held up a pair of very brief leopard-print briefs.

Steve felt his heart give a lurch.  “Those are Danno’s,” he said, crossing the room to take the underwear from the Hawaiian detective’s hand.

“Come on, you’re kidding me!” Kono exclaimed.  “No way Danny wears anything like that!”

“He was definitely here,” McGarrett said, ignoring the comment.  “Chin, go radio for HPD backup and a lab team to go over every inch of this place.”

“You!” Steve snapped at Cercola, hovering in the doorway.  “You had a kidnapped cop in your back room.”

“But...but I don’t understand,” the grocer claimed.  “There has been no one in this room, no one at all.”

“Yes, there has, and these belong to him!” McGarrett said forcefully, Danny’s underwear clenched in his fist.

“Spotted underwear?  That is your evidence?”  Cercola laughed.  “Is it part of the Five-O uniform now?”

Color stained Steve’s cheekbones as he hastily shoved the briefs into a pocket.  “He was here, and you can either tell me where they’ve taken him, or be charged with conspiracy and obstruction of justice!” he shouted at the grocer.

“I’m not saying anything more without my lawyer,” Cercola declared.

Chin Ho returned to find McGarrett with his fists clenched and Cercola looking equal parts stubborn and frightened.  “Steve, the lab boys are on their way,” he reported.

McGarrett took a deep breath.  “Good, Chin.  Now, I want you to go back to the office and find every address that’s ever been associated with Salvato’s organization.  Also, I want surveillance on his top guys.  Kono, take over here.  I’m going to escort Mr. Cercola to Central Booking and then have a conversation with our District Attorney.”  Not having Danno here with me is like trying to work without my right hand, just when it matters most.  Please be safe.... he thought desperately.

As McGarrett and his prisoner disappeared out the front door, Kono turned to Chin Ho, looking puzzled.  “So how does Da Boss know that’s Danny’s underwear, anyway?”

“You know Steve McGarrett knows everything, bruddah,” the Chinese detective told him, his face impassive.


“Steve, you said on the phone that you have evidence that Moro Salvato is involved in Dan Williams’ disappearance?” the Governor asked anxiously, waving McGarrett to a seat beside the District Attorney.

“We traced a van seen leaving the accident site to a store found to have ties to Salvato in our previous investigation.  The owner claimed the van was stolen, so we searched the premises for evidence and found an item of Danny’s clothing in a storeroom in back,” Steve explained.  “They must have been holding him there.”

Manicote considered.  “I think the judge will listen to that,” he said.  “Could a lawyer argue Williams left the item during the course of the previous investigation?”

“No, definitely not,” McGarrett assured him.

“What was it you found?” the Governor asked.

“Danny must have known they were going to move him and wanted to leave us a message,” Steve said evasively.  “Something the kidnappers wouldn’t recognize as one.”

“Yes,” Manicote said.  “But what exactly was it?”

“His underwear,” McGarrett admitted.

Underwear?” the D. A. asked, raising his eyebrows.  “How do you know it was his?  Initials?  Laundry mark?”

“No, but it has a...distinctive pattern,” Steve told him, intently studying a corner of the Governor’s desk.

“A distinctive pattern?”  Manicote looked like he’d bitten into a lemon.  “How distinctive?”

“I have them here.”  McGarrett reluctantly removed the briefs in question from his pocket and put them on the desk.  I’m sorry, Danno....

The DA picked the garment up between thumb and forefinger.  “Well...these are certainly...distinctive....” he said, looking startled.

“Danny certainly left them as a message,” Steve said firmly.

Manicote sighed.  “Well, I’ll see if I can set up a hearing with the judge.  If we can show that Williams definitely owned a pair like this, and that’s it’s probable he was wearing them today, I think that might do.  Did his girlfriend buy them for him?”

“Er...no...not exactly....”  McGarrett said, looking uncomfortable.

“He bought those for himself?” Manicote looked skeptical.

“No, no, he wouldn’t,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“So, you somehow know they’re his, but you don’t know where he got them?” the District Attorney demanded.

“It’s...not that.”  The head of Five-O stood, going to examine the contents of a bookcase.  I was afraid of this.  But I don’t care how much it embarrasses either of us.  Danny’s life is at stake, he thought.

“Steve.  Who bought the underwear?” the Governor asked.

“I did,” McGarrett admitted quietly.

“Steve...you....” the Governor said, startled.

The District Attorney opened his mouth, then closed it again, apparently temporarily robbed of the power of speech.

Why....” Jameson began, then stopped himself.  “No.  I don’t want to know.”

 “A...a gag?  A bet?  Steve, I’d never expect that sort of thing from you, of all people....” Manicote began.

“It’s not important why he bought them,” the Governor said firmly.

Manicote gathered his wits.  “Okay, Steve, I hate to ask, but do you have any particular reason to think Williams was wearing that underwear today?”

“They were missing from his apartment, and...he had said he was going to wear them on his day off,” McGarrett said, looking away to hide the color he could feel rising in his cheeks.

The District Attorney sighed.  “Fine.  You’re willing to testify publicly, in court, that you bought that underwear for your second-in-command, and that he said he would wear it today?”

 “If I have to, yes,” McGarrett said grimly, turning to face the District Attorney.  “To keep Salvato in jail, and to buy us time to find Danno...I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

“John, can’t you talk to the judge in private?” the Governor asked.  “It won’t do Steve or Five-O any good to have people laughing over this.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Manicote said, sounding resigned.  “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”  He left the room.

“Steve,” the Governor began, rubbing his temples.  “Of all the headaches you’ve given me over the years....”

“I’m sorry,” McGarrett said.  “After this is over, you can have my resignation.”

“I don’t want your resignation,” Jameson said tiredly.  “Just go find your missing man.”

“Thank you, Governor,” Steve said, getting to his feet and returning Danny’s briefs to his pocket.  “I owe you one.”

“I’ll remind you of that during the next headache,” the Governor said with a wry smile.


Danny awoke to find himself in a dark, swaying space.  The trunk of a car, he thought.  He tested his limbs, finding that his hands were once again cuffed behind him, his ankles tied, and a blindfold securely fastened over his eyes.  The last thing I remember is three guys in masks, and one of them saying, ‘Let me, I’ve always wanted to sock a cop,’ then hitting me as the other two held my arms.  Danny gingerly worked his jaw back and forth.  Not broken, anyway...that’s something.

After a jolting ride that seemed to go on forever, the car came to a stop.  Danny heard the sound of doors slamming, followed by a rush of fresher air as the trunk opened.

Rough hands lifted Five-O’s second-in-command out of the trunk and dumped him on the ground, then he felt a hard, metallic object pressed against his temple as the ties binding his ankles were cut loose.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” a voice ordered, as Danny was yanked to his feet.

“I don’t like this,” said a worried voice Danny didn’t recognize.  Local accent...maybe Chinese? he thought.

“Hey, you’re getting a sweet deal.  You do this, you and the Boss are even, without even having him teach you a lesson,” sneered one of the men from the market.

As he was forcibly propelled forward, Danny thought, It feels like I’m inside a building.  Concrete underfoot...maybe a warehouse?


“No luck at any of these addresses, Boss,” Kono said, putting the list on McGarrett’s desk.

“Nothing from any of our informers, either,” Chin added.

“Gentlemen, I don’t want to know where he isn’t, I want to know where he is!” Steve declared, pounding his fist against the desk.  He picked up a sheaf of reports from the desk and started pacing.  “If Salvato’s men aren’t keeping Danny at any of his own places, then they must have made some other arrangement.  But there’s no record of contact with anyone from another organization in these reports,” he said, flinging them back down onto the desk.

“We’ll keep looking,” Chin assured him.  “Come on, Kono, let’s make sure we haven’t missed any of Salvato’s friends.”

The telephone rang.

“McGarrett,” Steve snapped into the receiver.

“Manicote.  Steve, I talked to the judge.”

“Will he give us more time?” McGarrett asked.

“You have twenty four hours.  The trial is now scheduled to start on Tuesday.”

“That’s not enough!  We need a delay until we can find Danny,” McGarrett said.

“Steve, that’s the best I could do without explaining that the head of Five-O bought leopard-print briefs for his second-in-command!” the District Attorney protested.  “The judge only gave us the day on the strength of the fact that it was you asking for it.  When defense counsel heard that our ‘evidence’ was a pair of underwear, you could have heard the laughter a block away.”

“What if I testify?” Steve demanded.

“I scheduled a hearing for four o’clock tomorrow afternoon.  If you haven’t found Williams by then, you’ll get your chance,” Manicote said.

After replacing the receiver, Steve stepped to the window beside his desk.  I’ll admit to anything if it will keep Danno safe until I can find him....


Danny lay on the concrete floor, the cool surface hard against his bruised face.  This time they hadn’t bothered to take off his blindfold, and his hands were still cuffed behind him.  His initial attempt to explore the space he was in had been met with a threat and a kick, but he was fairly certain that he was alone now, and that it was long after dark.

I wonder if Steve got my message?  Either way, I’m sure he’s turning the island inside-out, but if he can’t get Salvato’s appeal delayed, my usefulness will end very soon, Danny thought unhappily, trying in vain to find a comfortable position.  It’s amazing how not having underwear on makes you feel so much more vulnerable....


The next morning, McGarrett made a quick stop at his condo to shower and change, then pointed his car back towards the Five-O offices.  He fought down his weariness, thinking, Danny’s somewhere out there, alone, injured, in danger...and...well...without underwear.  Compared to the rest that shouldn’t mean anything, but....

Without really intending, Steve found himself pulling into the parking lot at Danny’s apartment building.  I should make sure the lab crew cleaned up after themselves, he rationalized.

Finding the apartment tidy, he went into the bedroom and opened the top drawer of the dresser.  Two tiger, two zebra, and...one pair of the leopard spotted, he thought, looking at the briefs whose match was currently stored as evidence.  Danno...we have so little time in the day when we can acknowledge our relationship.  I wanted to give you these as a little something only the two of us would know about, a shared secret.  I guess that didn’t work out, he thought ruefully.

He sighed and picked up a zebra-striped pair, carefully folding them and tucking them into his jacket pocket.

McGarrett was sitting behind his desk drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning when Chin and Kono, also looking tired, arrived.

“Boss!  We just got the new surveillance reports from the guys watching one of Salvato’s lieutenants,” Kono called, waving a folder.

“And?” Steve asked, standing abruptly.

“No meetings with anyone from other organizations,” Kono said sadly.

“But there was one name that I don’t recognize,” Chin said, taking the report and opening it to a page, then handing it to McGarrett.  “George Lee.  You want me to check him out?”

“Anything’s worth a try at this point,” the head of Five-O said grimly.  “Maybe Salvato has something on Mr. Lee.”  He reached into his pocket and touched the striped fabric, thinking, I promise I’ll get these to you, Danno.  Soon.


No longer sure if it was day or night, or how long it had been since he’d been taken, Danny lay in a half doze.  The sounds of footsteps brought him to sudden alertness, though he lay carefully unmoving.

There was the scrape of a chair nearby as someone stood.  “Is something wrong, Mr. Medici?”

“The Boss’s lawyer called.  We have a problem,” said what sounded to Danny like the authoritative man from the grocery store.

“What problem?  We cleaned everything up good,” chimed in a third voice.  “Didn’t we, Joe?”

“Not well enough, Clem!” Medici snapped.  “The lawyer said they found the cop’s underwear in the storeroom.”

“Hey!  We didn’t mess around with him like that!” protested Joe indignantly.  “Do you think we’re sick or something?”

“That lawyer must have been drunk,” Clem said, laughing.  “Underwear.  It probably wasn’t even his!  I mean, did he write his name in it, like he was in the third grade?”

“I don’t know.  The lawyer said there was something funny about it, as if the D. A. didn’t want to explain.  But the judge put off the Boss’s appeal until tomorrow at the earliest,” the man in charge said angrily.  “You can imagine what the Boss thinks of that.”

“It’s not our fault!  They probably found some old rag and made this up, and the judge is in bed with the cops,” Joe complained.

“Well, I know a good way to find out,” said the other underling.  “Come on, get his feet!”

Danny tensed.  Now I know Steve got my message and that it bought at least a little time, but this won’t be pleasant, he thought.

“I’ve got a gun on you, so don’t give us any trouble,” ordered the leader, as Danny was held down, rough hands unfastening his pants and yanking them down.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Joe.  “It’s true!”

“What about it, pig?”  demanded Clem, giving Danny a kick in the midsection.  “Did you leave your panties for your boyfriend McGarrett to find?”

Even curled up in pain, the concrete cold against his exposed skin, Danny couldn’t help a bitter snort of laughter.  Yes, I did.  Though ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t seem like quite the right word for Steve....

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Clem asked, kicking Danny again.  “I say we teach him a lesson!”

Medici interrupted.  “Strip him and give me his clothes,” he ordered.  “I want to send McGarrett a message.  Then you can have your fun.”

Danny once again found himself being roughly held against the concrete as hands tugged at his pants.  Suddenly, the welcome sounds of a scuffle broke out in the distance.

“You two stay with him!” Medici snapped, hurrying off.

There were further sounds of struggle and at least two gunshots, then near at hand Danny heard a familiar voice shout, “Five-O!  Drop the weapons!”

Instead, the man at Danny’s feet fired.

“Steve!” Danny cried, desperately aiming a kick in what he hoped was the right direction.  He connected, and was rewarded by a grunt of pain and the sound of the gun clattering onto the concrete.  There were the sounds of a brief scuffle, then Danny found himself helped to a sitting position by strong arms, and when his blindfold was pulled off he found himself blinking in the light as he gazed on the welcome sight of his partner’s concerned face.

“Danno, are you okay?” McGarrett asked anxiously, as behind him Chin and Kono cuffed Clem and Joe.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Danny said.  “I was afraid he’d shot you....”

“He missed,” Steve assured his second-in-command.  He examined the cuffs holding Danny’s wrists.  “Kono!  See if any of those men has the key to these,” he called, then said more quietly, “How’s your head?”

“Not too bad,” his partner said.  “Steve...could you help me with my pants?”

“Of course, Danno,” McGarrett said, pulling up the tan slacks and very carefully zipping them.

“I don’t suppose you happened to bring any spare underwear?” Danny asked with a wry smile.

“Actually....”  Steve took the zebra-striped briefs from his pocket and tucked them into Danny’s.

“Zebra, huh?”  Danny said with a grin, then added in a heartfelt tone, “Thanks, Steve.”

Kono returned with a set of keys.  “Here, Boss,” he said, handing them over.

McGarrett quickly freed his partner.  Danny stretched, wincing, then rubbed his wrists.

“Come on, let’s get you to a doctor,” Steve said.

“I don’t need a doctor,” Danny argued, as his partner helped him to his feet.  “Let’s just take care of putting Salvato away.”

“We’ll do that, too,” McGarrett agreed.  “Though I’m not looking forward to facing Manicote again any time soon.”

“Why...oh, no,” Danny said.  “That underwear!”

“Yeah,” Steve said ruefully.  “I’m sorry, Danno....”


Three days later, Five-O’s second-in-command, behind the wheel of a dark green loaner car, pulled out of the courthouse parking lot after an afternoon of testimony.  He sighed.  I’m certainly glad to be out of Salvato’s clutches, but I could do without Kono making Tarzan noises every time he sees me, and policewomen calling me “Tiger” and giggling until Steve glares them into submission.  It’s a good thing he doesn’t know how many of them have asked me out, never mind what Roy from Traffic was trying to hint at the other day.  Steve...I have to do something about him.  I think I know just what will do the trick....

He took a right turn, a corner of his mouth curving up in a smile.


A short time later, Danny knocked on McGarrett’s office door, entering when bidden.

“How did it go in court?” the head of Five-O asked, putting down the report he was reading.

“No surprises.  I didn’t get a chance to go over things with Manicote afterwards, but from the expression on Salvato’s lawyer’s face, I think it’s certain,” Danny said.  “Steve...would you come out onto the lanai for a minute?  We need to talk.”

A look of worry crossed McGarrett’s features, but he said, “Sure, Danno,” leading the way outside and closing the door behind them.

“Steve, you’ve been tiptoeing around me since you rescued me from Salvato’s men,” Danny began.

Steve looked across at the State Capitol.  “You have every right to be angry at me.  I bought you that underwear and pressured you to wear it, and you were right about the consequences.”

“And that’s why you’ve insisted on sleeping on the couch the last three nights?” Danny demanded.

“Your head....” Steve began, directing a glance at the healing laceration on his partner’s temple.

“Is fine,” Danny said firmly.  “But some other parts of me aren’t too happy.”

“Danno?”  Steve asked, hope lighting in his eyes.

“Steve, I’m not angry about the underwear.  One of the ‘consequences’ is that Salvato is going back to jail, while I’m still alive.  I’m just sorry I couldn’t be a fly on the wall while you tried to explain to the Governor and DA why you knew those were mine,” Danny said, smiling.  “But in case you still feel bad about it, I got you a little present.”  He took a small box from his pocket and held it up to show McGarrett.

“Do I want to know?” Steve asked apprehensively.

“Just wait until we get home....” Danny told his partner with a wicked grin.

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