It doesn't lack in any sting. When, yeah, okay, he's aware. He's never chased anything this far against the rules with another guy. They were different rules, with civilians, but there were lines he towed. Unwritten rules he didn't buck. In The Navy, and among HPD. He cared about his job, and his appearance, and everything that went with that.
In the service, and in the Reserved, with Five-0. He was careful, and discreet. Enough Danny never knew.
Not happening enough in any time period for him to think about it as a habit. Or even constant. Most not lasting more than a night, when it ever did, none of them last more than a handful of weeks. Frequently because he got caught up in his job, in his work, in missions, in the mystery surrounding his father, everything now. It got in the way, it made it easier not to look back, not to remember until too much time had passed.
It's fair. Low. Aggravating. But fair. Different because of that; Danny was there daily. Under his feet. In his way. Backing him up as much as keeping him in check. Following him home.
"You think any of that's actually slipped my notice?" It's more terse, but it's also quieter when he leans in. Elbows ending up on the table, leaning toward her. Not even carrying on at a normal volume. That he could be any less aware of this whole situation when he walked into his own office every morning.
Or maybe while he was still signing off on Danny's paperwork, okaying the day's for him to be gone to court with Rachel, sending in the manifests of hours his people put in every month. The differentials for hazard pay periods. Seeing to him after a case. Having decidedly wrong reactions while he was on them.
He knows which exactly lines in which books it is at this point even. How could he not.
no subject
In the service, and in the Reserved, with Five-0. He was careful, and discreet. Enough Danny never knew.
Not happening enough in any time period for him to think about it as a habit. Or even constant. Most not lasting more than a night, when it ever did, none of them last more than a handful of weeks. Frequently because he got caught up in his job, in his work, in missions, in the mystery surrounding his father, everything now. It got in the way, it made it easier not to look back, not to remember until too much time had passed.
It's fair. Low. Aggravating. But fair. Different because of that; Danny was there daily.
Under his feet. In his way. Backing him up as much as keeping him in check. Following him home.
"You think any of that's actually slipped my notice?" It's more terse, but it's also quieter when he leans in. Elbows ending up on the table, leaning toward her. Not even carrying on at a normal volume. That he could be any less aware of this whole situation when he walked into his own office every morning.
Or maybe while he was still signing off on Danny's paperwork, okaying the day's for him to be gone to court with Rachel, sending in the manifests of hours his people put in every month. The differentials for hazard pay periods. Seeing to him after a case. Having decidedly wrong reactions while he was on them.
He knows which exactly lines in which books it is at this point even. How could he not.