fandomtownies | Entries tagged with steve mcgarrett

Steve was back in the Trooper Station with a lot of energy on a Monday, which meant the Troopers were out for a run.

The Troopers hated when Steve had a lot of energy.

"When you're all back, make sure you've taken the updated cybersecurity training," Steve said.

...the Troopers hated mandatory training more than they hated running, and that's why they were voluntarily doing another lap around the island while Steve caught up on emails.

The Trooper Station was open. Please have a crime.

grenadesandohana

Steve was in the office as usual on Monday, working hard and ignoring the expectant silence radiating off the Troopers.

"What?" he finally asked, looking over at them and the piles of plastic eggs on their desks. "We're not doing an egg hunt. You're grown-ass adults."

The Trooper Station was open and no fun at all, Steve.

throughaphase

Look what time it was! It was time to get everyone piled into the bar to make friends and/or bad decisions!

The bar was decked out for Valentine's Day, with a lot of tacky-classic red and pink decor to go along with the huge banner draped across the wall of the stage, lovingly made by the Glitter class, reading:

WELCOME TO
THREE MINUTE DATES

Everyone was free to mingle until a couple minutes before 8:00, when Kitty took to the stage.

"Good evening, everybody! And welcome to Three Minute Dates! If you're new, the rules are as such: we'll call pairs of names. You pair up, you chat, get to know each other as well as you can in three minutes, and then the bell will sound and I'll call out different sets of names, and so on, and so forth. Physical violence will get you magically transported out, don't hook up in the bathrooms, and have fun. You've got a couple minutes to still sign up if you want!"

[Before the Dates | Round One | Round Two | Round Three | Round Four | Round Five | OOC | Post-Dates Bar]

grenadesandohana

Steve finished up a bit of paperwork, delaying the call he needed to make to Honolulu. (And he was definitely delaying if he was voluntarily doing paperwork.)

Finally he picked up the phone. "Howzit, Chin," he began. "Danny and I were thinking that since we're here so much, we might look at expanding the Five-O team back home. Can you put out some feelers, see if you can turn up any likely candidates?"

After another ten minutes of chatting, he hung up and wondered why putting out that request felt like defeat.

The Trooper Station was open! Please give Steve a distraction.

grenadesandohana

Steve returned to the office with a tan and a box of malasadas to make up for the tan.

The malasadas disappeared, but the Troopers weren't forgiving him for the tan.

The Trooper Station was open! New year, new crimes?

grenadesandohana

Steve came back from swimming class to a ringing phone. "McGarrett," he answered.

"Commander McGarrett, this is Alicia Brown," replied the voice on the other end of the line. "You left some of your crime scene evidence at my home last week?"

Steve laughed. "Well, I had to get your attention somehow?"

Alicia's answer laugh was much shorter and drier. "Right. Well, as it turns out, I do have some thoughts about your case. When can we meet again? I'm free for dinner."

Steve completely missed the implication of being asked for dinner. "I'll check with my partner and call you back in a few minutes, all right?"

There was a slight pause, then an, "Of course, Commander. Let me know."

Steve hung up, then called Danny. Oh boy, an actual case!

The Trooper Station was open!

grenadesandohana

The federal government was closed, so Steve wasn't expecting a call back from anyone at the FBI about his serial killer profiler. While he waited, he went over his notes about the case and checked CNN to see if Harry had caught up with the guy who'd intended to blow up nuclear reactors.

Since all things remained un-blown-up, he was optimistic about Harry's effectiveness.

His cellphone, vibrating from various chat groups sending obnoxious Navy memes in celebration of its birthday today, was stuck in a drawer. He was not ready to look at those yet.

Only four more hours of work to go. He'd started voluntarily doing paperwork. Someone save him.

grenadesandohana

Steve was back in the office, reaching out to non-sucky FBI contacts (he'd been burned more than a few times by that agency) to find an expert in serial killers. There hadn't been another murder in the last few weeks back in Honolulu, but Steve didn't think his life was easy enough that some weird serial killer had traveled to Waikiki for vacation, killed two other serial killers and then gone back to, like, Omaha.

He left a message for a retired profiler named Alicia Brown who lived in Fairfax, Virginia, then turned his attention to what the Troopers were doing, and paused, staring.

"...what are you doing?" he finally asked.

Childhood photo team building guessing game, apparently. It looked like exactly the same photo printed out multiple times from where Steve was sitting, and he wasn't investigating any further.

The Trooper Station was open!

grenadesandohana

After swimming class, the Troopers' conversations about their cool animals (and Calvin's, which was apparently--by group consensus--deeply uncool) made a lot more sense to Steve.

It didn't mean he was going to pick a side in the argument, mind you. It just meant it made more sense.

The Trooper Station was open! Steve was learning about ancient Indian chess sets.

grenadesandohana

Steve was feeling a little more settled in his own skin after a class period spent swimming, and then Troopers were relieved that they were missing out on another run around the island (especially since a few were nursing bruises from banana-related falls and none of them wanted to explain that. They suspected Steve would not be sympathetic).

He picked up his cell phone as it rang with Chin's ringtone. "McGarrett," he said with a smile in his voice. He quickly sobered as Chin relayed what was happening back in Honolulu. "A body?" he repeated. "Left in the lobby? How'd they even get access?"

He listened as Chin told him what they knew so far.

"Okay, let me know what forensics tells you about this. Danny and I will catch the next available portal back."

The Trooper Station actually had a case!

grenadesandohana

Well, the good news was that the Troopers weren't licking each other today and no one was complaining about snow monsters or alligators spitting out chompy goldfish. The bad news was it was beautiful outside and Steve, after several hours post-swimming class of sitting and staring out the window, finally stood up and made the Troopers go on a run with him.

So he was back on his fitness bullshit. Sorry, Troopers.

The station was open once the run was over!

grenadesandohana

The phones were lighting up today, but the Troopers were far too distracted experimenting with finding out if they all tasted the same because they were clones to actually do any work.

Steve was rapidly losing patience with the complaints he was getting. "Stop licking other people," he finally snapped at the last phone call. "Of course she smacked you for it!"

He listened to the final question. "I'm not telling you what I taste like!"

It was going to be suuuuch a long day.

The Trooper Station was open!

grenadesandohana

"I'm sorry that you don't like extremely hoppy IPAs," Steve was telling the irate person on the other side of the phone call, "but it's not actually illegal to put eight different forms of it into a beer."

He listened patiently. "Well. Soon it'll be time for pumpkin ale?"

That, apparently, was not the right answer, and now Steve was getting another earful.

The Trooper Station was open. Please don't have an opinion about seasonal beer.

grenadesandohana

Steve ~~had been here every day, RL just got busy~~ was back at the office after the weekend and returned just in time to answer the phone that the Troopers had been very obviously avoiding.

Ralph muttered something under his breath about that being Steve's funeral and that was the only warning Steve had before the Bee Lady was giving him an earful about their heartlessness in overlooking National Honeybee Day.

When she finally took a breath, Steve quickly offered, "We can send a card?" and that set her off for another five minutes.

Apparently, the only way to mend this fence was to send individualized cards to each of her bees, who were all, individually, very hurt.

"Uh huh," Steve said, hanging up. He wasn't going to do that. The tiny cards on the Troopers' desk said that they were much more afraid of the Bee Lady and her consequences.

The Trooper Station was open and bird free, at least? There was no guarantee an angry swarm of bees wasn't in-bound.

grenadesandohana

Steve was on the phone with the Baltimore police. "No," he said. "No. No, sir, we haven't seen anything like that, but if we do run into two Welsh guys and a stolen penguin named Dirk, you'll be our first call."

He hung up and turned to Calvin. "Can you go check in with the raccoons and check that there's not a new penguin here named Dirk?"

How was this his life. How.

The Trooper Station was open, especially if you were a penguin named Dirk.

grenadesandohana

Steve had not opened his stitches trying to win a prize on Saturday, which he was counting as a win. (He was still annoyed that the prize he'd won was dramatically smaller than he was used to.)

He was finally reading through his cache of emails from his Navy buddies expressing that mix of congratulations and commiseration that could only come with leaving a career earlier than you'd intended to. He was far from the only SEAL to have been medically discharged, but it stung enough to read through the messages, however heartfelt, that he couldn't reply back to them just yet.

He stored them carefully in a new folder. He'd get back to them when he could.

For now, he was hoping for some sort of island-wide crime spree, either here or in Honolulu, to take his mind off of it. That looked a lot like staring into space to anyone observing, though.

drumsticksandd20s

Sure, it was hot as hell out, but it wouldn't really be Pride if you didn't have to be constantly reminded to hydrate, would it? Besides, just like every year there was a rainbow high in the sky above the island, bold and vivid almost in an in-your-face kind of way.

Streamers in various Pride flag colors ran between trees and light fixtures all over the park, shiny rainbow confetti (easier to clean up than glitter!) was everywhere, and once again the bounce house and ballpit slide were at the center of all the activity.

Carnival games and rides, all of them queer-themed in some way, branched out from the bounce house area toward the karaoke stage where the ~~NPC~~ band made up of a bunch of wargamers from the Magpie Emporium was slated to play several sets at various points during the day (with Steph sitting in on drums for a little bit of each set). The barbecue grills in the picnic area were ready to use for anyone who wanted to make their own food, and the vendor tables and booths were set up nearby for the local businesses who'd be participating.

Things might be a little less organized this year, but in Steph's defense she didn't have as much help with the heavy lifting and last-minute details as usual since Vi was a tiny hyperactive kitty right now. Still. She'd done this enough by now to have A System, damn it.

Enjoy your laid back and entirely corporate-free Pride, Fandom!

[OOC: I, meanwhile, am much less organized this year. Sigh. Threads are up! Go forth!]

grenadesandohana

Steve was glancing around the station and wondering if it counted as the Troopers' home and as such, could he take home a stapler or something for his homework for problem solving class next week.

Plan B was getting invited to someone's house for dinner. Plan B would take more work.

The Trooper Station was open and plotting petty larceny, as one does.

grenadesandohana

"Steve," a normal person might say, "you have had major surgery! It normally takes three months to recover! Only an idiot would go to work!"

And, indeed, Danny had said something very like that just this morning.

Yet here Steve was at work. Please don't let today be the day Fandom pulled a Honolulu had had a nuclear bomb scare, okay?

grenadesandohana

Steve came into the office still dressed in his dress blues (even if they were white), fresh from a ceremony at the Naval Academy commemorating lost alumni.

He glanced at the clock--he'd change before going to his ridiculous class--and then cursed silently to himself. He'd forgotten to do the damn egg homework.

"Hey guys," he called to the Troopers, who were coming down with a sudden case of deafness. "I need you to hold some eggs for me."

The Trooper Station was open. Do you want to hold an egg?

grenadesandohana

Of course Steve McGarrett was taking his problem solving class too seriously, and if his options for filling his day was a choice between paperwork about giant lizard property damage and googling "how to get the most eggs into a single picture," he was picking the second option.

He'd get to the paperwork--he was a professional--but the other thing would niggle at him until he looked up solutions.

The Trooper Station was open!

pocketpretzels

The telephone was ringing nonstop with lizard related complaints, to the point where it was starting to give Watts a headache. The temptation to just unplug the damned thing was strong, but he did have a responsibility towards the safety of the townspeople, so plugged in it remained, and he continued to answer calls and send Troopers out to assist where necessary.

grenadesandohana

Steve came back to the office after his weird banana project and decided to start on his homework assignment. A mischievous smile on his face, he picked up the phone and called back to Hawai'i. "Chin Ho!" he said with a grin, "I have twenty bucks and a dream, brah. Can you go on a shopping run for me?" Then he gave details about what he had in mind.

Class would be entertaining for him next week, at least? Homework in progress, Steve started looking into the small crime wave of lawn gnome larceny.

Man, he missed gang wars sometimes. The Trooper Station was open!

grenadesandohana

Steve had recovered from the poison oak he'd fallen into when he'd arrested the fake fed (and real murderer) in Baltimore, so scratching idly at his arm was a habit more than a need.

He was checking his calendar today, confirming the date for the Ironman in Honolulu and wondering if making the Troopers run with him was a way of combining work with pleasure or just an abuse of power.

He'd make them run after lunch.

grenadesandohana

"Huh," Steve said aloud, hanging up the phone from his call to the FBI field office that covered Baltimore. He was chasing down a lead from the Parrish case: while Chin and the folks back in Honolulu were following up with the other ex-cons who'd applied to the job where Parrish had gotten arrested for murder, he'd been checking in with the FBI agents who'd been watching Parrish at his sentencing hearing.

But the FBI had just told him they hadn't sent agents to Parrish's hearing and had gotten very snotty about that being a Marshal Service function.

"Huh," Steve said again, then started a facial recognition search on the photos he had of the agents from the scene. Impersonating a federal agent was definitely a crime.

The Trooper Station was open! And doing work.

grenadesandohana

Steve had promised Danny that he would look into PTSD counseling, and he was. Kind of. He was poking around on veterans' sites, googling "PTSD and security clearance revocation" and "stabbing things with sticks (therapeutic)," and "cleaning house in a non hypervigilant way."

It was going...okay and was definitely helping him move past the frustration of the case out of Baltimore being stalled. Why did police work never look like television, neatly wrapped in 45 minutes?

The Trooper Station was open, and clean in a non-hypervigilant way.

grenadesandohana

Steve hadn't slept well last night either, but he wasn't going to call out of work for a slight case of insomnia, so here he was, working on the Parrish case and mainlining coffee with butter in it.

(Shut up, it was good.)

The Trooper Station was open and kind of wired.

grenadesandohana

There was a tiny rodent protest out in front of the Trooper Station, with raccoons parading around holding up "If You're Cold, We're Cold, Let Us Inside!" signs (and one that had a sign that read "Vance Skis in Jeans" that Steve didn't understand, but the raccoon seemed very passionate about and he wasn't going to ask).

He finally opened the front door a crack to yell, "You own a brewery! Go there!"

They shuffled off down the road and Steve made a note to add this encounter under problem solving for his annual review.

The Trooper Station was open and your chances of getting rabies had gone way down!

hatesparadise

Well, there was apparently a rogue groundhog on island that was upsetting the neighbors. Or maybe it was just the raccoons, but either way it was a 'case' and that got Danny dragged on out to investigate some absolute bullshit with Steve.

He'd never say he actually enjoyed it because it usually ended in something stupid happening.

But at least it got them out of the office.

[for the dude, but open on some slowplay!]

grenadesandohana

Despite Danny's assertions, Steve didn't see himself as a delicate hot-house flower. He just didn't love being cold!

That was a long way to explaining why he was still wearing his giant puffer coat inside.

"Shut up, Ralph, you wear a full helmet," Steve muttered.

The Trooper Station was open! Providing hot beverages will guarantee better service.

grenadesandohana

Steve arrived in a great mood because Navy had been Army in the Army-Navy game on Saturday. His good mood fizzled out when he noticed the mistletoe stalking him through the office.

"This is a place of business," he muttered, rummaging through his desk drawer until he found the squirt bottle of RoundUp he'd kept since last December and aimed it at the ceiling. "I'm not kissing anyone in a place of business."

For a plant hanging from the ceiling, the mistletoe looked decidedly sulky as it retreated. Steve watched it go with a shrug. What the Troopers did on their side of the office wasn't his concern

The Trooper Station was open! Steve was happy to be distracted from the phone calls about pushy mistletoe.

grenadesandohana

Steve and Danny were both in the office today, even if Danny was slightly cat-shaped. Well. Totally cat-shaped.

It had been a very trying few days for Steve. Danny, for the moment, wasn't chasing the other cat through the office. He was also not pushing the contents of Steve's desk onto the floor. He was sitting in a holiday bag and Steve was taking many, many pictures for blackmailing purposes like a good partner should.

"If you eat tinsel, that is going to be entirely your problem," Steve warned the bag.

The Trooper Station was open and trying its best.

grenadesandohana

Coming from Thanksgiving in Honolulu to December on the East Coast was not Steve's favorite experience, and he shot the sniggering Troopers a glare when they saw him coming into the office in his huge, heavy, puffy coat.

"You do know I'm a SEAL-trained sniper, right?" he retorted.

...and when their conversation turned to why someone would train marine animals to kill, well. Steve had planned to drink coffee, ignore them all and spend a futile day deleting Cyber Monday emails from his inbox, but the tiny ponies in sweaters moseying past the station caught his attention.

"Hey, stop licking the glass," he scolded lightly.

The Trooper Station is open!

grenadesandohana

Steve was on the phone with one of the baristas from the Perk.

"How they want their coffee might be a crime against tastebuds, but I'm not sure it's an arrestable offense," he said, then frowned at the reply. "How many sugars?"

More silence.

"Can you even stir it with 18 sugars?"

Another reply.

"Well, obviously the blueberry syrup is to loosen it all up."

More talking.

"Okay, that's just wrong."

The Trooper Station was open and kind of off coffee right now.

grenadesandohana

Steve and Danny were back from their Halloween trip to Honolulu, and so Steve was back at his desk setting a new Minecraft record. He would eventually get too fidgety and make the Troopers go for a run with him, so right now they were enjoying the quiet.

The Trooper Station was open! Please have a crime. The Troopers didn't want to run.

grenadesandohana

The station was still very clean, much to Steve's relief. He really didn't want to have to get out the bleach and toothbrushes again.

After sorting through the paperwork that had accumulated on his desk and dumping most of it onto Danny's, he scrolled news sites to see what was going on in Hawaii and around the world. One of the pop-up ads caught his attention: "...what the hell is a tactical hoodie?" he asked aloud.

Oh no, now Steve was down the rabbit hole of completely unnecessary faux military attire.

The Trooper Station was open. At least one person inside was swearing under his breath like a sailor.

grenadesandohana

It was nice enough outside today that Steve took the Troopers on a long run around the island with him this morning (they were thrilled about it) and came back to the office in time to catch the phone on a final ring.

"Fandom Trooper Station," he answered, then frowned. "Seriously? Sir, I'm not singing you 'Happy Birthday'. That's not an emergency."

His listened to the reply, then answered, "No, that's still not something for the police. Maybe sign up for the three minutes dates at the bar next time if you're so lonely."

The Trooper Station was open and not in a singing mood.

grenadesandohana

Steve was in the office, not an otter, and not remotely in the mood to talk about how he had been an otter. If Ralph made one more pointed comment about it, he was going to be tempted to throw his favorite pebble at him.

Shut up, it was totally normal to have a favorite pebble.

Steve was reading through the crimes reported in Honolulu and snickering to himself about a robber the HPD picked up after he'd fallen asleep in the home he was robbing. "At least be dedicated to crime," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

The Trooper Station was open!

grenadesandohana

Steve was not missing Diego today, so you just shut up about that.

...and also don't ask who he was texting really obnoxious memes to because the answer was definitely Diego. (And Danny, because making Danny roll his eyes brought Steve joy.)

The Trooper Station was open, scrupulously clean, and boooooooooooooored.

grenadesandohana

Steve returned to the station after his classes to two raccoons waiting at his desk.

Swallowing back his inner "what the fuck" because this was Fandom, Steve sat down and took their statements about a very tragic murder that had taken place in the warehouse district. There was even a picture:

"Truly regrettable," Steve said, trying to keep a straight face as he reaching for his phone to call Danny. Possible squirrel homicide was better than no homicide, right?

grenadesandohana

Steve had gotten the slightest bit of sunburn on his nose and cheeks this weekend--the only clue that he'd been at Pride--and was now catching up on paperwork.

"There was a kidnapping?" he asked Ralph, sounding excited.

Ralph gestured for him to keep reading.

"Oh, the guy forgot he'd left his kids at his ex's house for the weekend," Steve read aloud. "Wow. Woooow."

The Trooper Station was open and currently swapping stories about pointless phone calls.

grenadesandohana

It was stupidly hot today and so rather than heading home after work, Steve detoured to the beach with the towel he kept in his desk for emergency beach situations. (You can take the man out of Hawai'i, but you can't take Hawai'i out of the man.)

Dropping his shirt and work pants onto the towel, Steve dove into the water wearing the swim trunks he also kept on just in case. (In Honolulu, he ended up in the water because of a case at least once a month, a trend Fandom really needed to step up on.)

He'd head out for food later, but for now, the water and the longest day of sunlight was more of a temptation.

[OOC: Open! Live vicariously through characters by swimming in the ocean!]

grenadesandohana

Well, at least he hadn't gone down as fast as Skywalker? Steve reported to work grumbling about land mines made of paint and spent the rest of his time deep-cleaning his desk (Coffee? COFFEE? Everything was gross and sticky.) and telling various callers that if they didn't antagonize the park flamingoes, they wouldn't get pecked by the park flamingoes.

Apparently they didn't know the law of "don't start none, won't be none." Steve was happy to inform them.

The Trooper Station was open! It smelled strongly of stale coffee and even more strongly of bleach.

justalittlerepressed

The firehouse was all ready for guests, cleaned as much as humanly possible and organized within an inch of its life. Which meant it was time for people to come in and mess all that up.

But, you know. Lovingly.

And just across the way at Selkie Lake, the food and the general mingling place was all set up for people. Because it was time for the First Responder's Memorial Day Barbecue!

grenadesandohana

Steve was being extremely productive today. He'd taken two showers (thanks for that, weird cooking class involving hunting a scorpion for lunch) and was now hangng up party invitations for next week on easily visible light poles.

Fandom First Responders BBQ and Open House
Chili, Grilled Stuff, Cold Beer*
Shirtless Tug of War Firefighters v Trooper Station
Memorial Day Afternoon (Monday, May 27)
Fandom Firehouse & Then Selkie Lake
Be There and Get a Free Fire Hat!
(or don't and we'll track you down and get you one anyway)

*If applicable. If you can't drink in Dean's class, you can't drink here

[OOC: Mostly establishy, but open if you want to chat!]

grenadesandohana

Steve McGarrett was One Smug Bastard as he sauntered into the station after the paintball workshop.

"Of course I won," he told the Troopers. "You may applaud."

They did not.

He sat down at his desk and looked at his computer screen to see that Danny had taped a news article to his screen.

"I do not regret shooting him at all," he said, taking the clip down and tossing it into recycling.

The Trooper Station was open!

knife_bender

Ice cream guy had come and gone and all that was left was the paperwork. Diego didn't really enjoy paperwork, but interviewing the hot firefighters and the employees at Chilly Boulder had been hilarious and he was enjoying reliving the experience as he typed up his report.

It was the little things in life.

[Open]

justalittlerepressed

Well, planning an open house was turning out to be a real headache when it came to ordering stuff to give out. There were grants and stuff for the smoke/CO2 alarms, but the rest? Pain in the ass.

But all of that was serving as a good distraction from answering the email from this Frank guy about a teleconference session like Bobby had suggested for him. Even though he was fine and didn't need therapy.

So, ordering plastic firefighter hats it was.

throughaphase

Tino had come up with a special. Okay, Kitty approved!

SPECIAL
Old Bay Bloody Mary

And then like ten minutes later he left his phone on the bar face up where Kitty could see his search for "crab vodka."

"Tino, no! We have standards!" Kitty called.

They did not.

[Open!]

grenadesandohana

It was Monday, so Steve was starting another week's work at the station ~~that he only posted about on Mondays for some reason~~. He was going through the paperwork caused by last week's mayhem with half an ear tuned into the Troopers as they swapped stories about the things they'd fought on Saturday.

Ralph, apparently, missed the Idiot Balls.

The Trooper Station was open!

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