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crack_van2012-02-18 09:33 am
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2012-02-18 09:33 am
Entry tags:
what the hell is a lillesande anyway? by Nova33 (PG-13)
Fandom: HAWAII FIVE-0 (new)
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Length: ~ 3000 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nova33
Author Website: Master Fic List on LJ
Why this must be read: First-season Steve initially hates Danny's apartment, that much is clear in canon. Naturally, when Danny says he needs to go shopping for a new bed, Steve decides to go along, although it isn't clear if he's there to help or just to drive Danny insane. So, business as usual.
Anyone who has ever roamed an IKEA (for better or worse) will appreciate this fic, and Danny does love to get his rant on. Steve patiently goes along for the ride (and the ridicule) because really, it's in his best interests to make sure his partner is well-rested, and therefore a bed is essential.
But, will an IKEA bed stand up to Steve's, um, "scrutiny"?
“I like IKEA, okay?” Danny says, but then they’re stepping in the doors and he looks visibly repulsed by the displays in front of him.
“You hate IKEA,” Steve observes, and Danny puts his hand to his forehead.
“Yes, yes I do. Stunning detective work, as always. With the passion of a thousand fiery suns, I hate this place and how it reminds me of the shittiest apartments I’ve ever lived in-”
“Like your last one?” Steve asks, but Danny is more than used to ignoring those jabs.
“-and I hate how it’s just this giant warehouse maze and if you forget something you have to walk all the way back through the stupid displays, and none of the tags are ever right and how everything is written in some made up language like it’s fucking artsy or something, I don’t know. And the whole goddamned place smells like cinnamon buns.”
“I assumed you’d appreciate that aspect.”
“Well, I don’t, okay,” Danny says, and snatches a card and a pencil from the bin by the door. “And I fucking hate tiny pencils.”
“Now you’re just picking random things to be angry at,” Steve says.
“And I hate having to try and put everything together using their terrible instructions, because there are no words and the pictures are the least helpful things on the planet.”
“I’ll help you put everything together, don’t even worry,” Steve says, striding behind Danny at an easy pace.
“What, that’s something they teach you in SEAL school?”
“How to decipher images?” Steve says. “Actually, it’s fairly simple. Elementary school more or less had me up to speed on that one.”
“Ha fucking ha,” Danny says, stopping abruptly in the lighting section to stare at a lamp. “What even is this thing?” he asks, looking at a twisted piece of white material that is somehow emitting light.
“I think it’s a lamp, Danny,” Steve says, even though he’s not really sure what the appeal is, either, but Danny is already stomping off through the displays, narrowly avoiding knocking over cheap vases with stupid names.
On LJ: what the hell is a lillesande anyway?
It doesn't matter how old or new or how popular a story is, authors love feedback!
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Length: ~ 3000 words
Author on LJ:
nova33 Author Website: Master Fic List on LJ
Why this must be read: First-season Steve initially hates Danny's apartment, that much is clear in canon. Naturally, when Danny says he needs to go shopping for a new bed, Steve decides to go along, although it isn't clear if he's there to help or just to drive Danny insane. So, business as usual.
Anyone who has ever roamed an IKEA (for better or worse) will appreciate this fic, and Danny does love to get his rant on. Steve patiently goes along for the ride (and the ridicule) because really, it's in his best interests to make sure his partner is well-rested, and therefore a bed is essential.
But, will an IKEA bed stand up to Steve's, um, "scrutiny"?
“I like IKEA, okay?” Danny says, but then they’re stepping in the doors and he looks visibly repulsed by the displays in front of him.
“You hate IKEA,” Steve observes, and Danny puts his hand to his forehead.
“Yes, yes I do. Stunning detective work, as always. With the passion of a thousand fiery suns, I hate this place and how it reminds me of the shittiest apartments I’ve ever lived in-”
“Like your last one?” Steve asks, but Danny is more than used to ignoring those jabs.
“-and I hate how it’s just this giant warehouse maze and if you forget something you have to walk all the way back through the stupid displays, and none of the tags are ever right and how everything is written in some made up language like it’s fucking artsy or something, I don’t know. And the whole goddamned place smells like cinnamon buns.”
“I assumed you’d appreciate that aspect.”
“Well, I don’t, okay,” Danny says, and snatches a card and a pencil from the bin by the door. “And I fucking hate tiny pencils.”
“Now you’re just picking random things to be angry at,” Steve says.
“And I hate having to try and put everything together using their terrible instructions, because there are no words and the pictures are the least helpful things on the planet.”
“I’ll help you put everything together, don’t even worry,” Steve says, striding behind Danny at an easy pace.
“What, that’s something they teach you in SEAL school?”
“How to decipher images?” Steve says. “Actually, it’s fairly simple. Elementary school more or less had me up to speed on that one.”
“Ha fucking ha,” Danny says, stopping abruptly in the lighting section to stare at a lamp. “What even is this thing?” he asks, looking at a twisted piece of white material that is somehow emitting light.
“I think it’s a lamp, Danny,” Steve says, even though he’s not really sure what the appeal is, either, but Danny is already stomping off through the displays, narrowly avoiding knocking over cheap vases with stupid names.
On LJ: what the hell is a lillesande anyway?
It doesn't matter how old or new or how popular a story is, authors love feedback!