"Hold it right there."

Grimacing, Danny complied. He hated this. Hated every aspect of it, but he stood still. Held where he was told to hold, and forced a calm smile onto his face as the shooter took careful aim. Finger poised to depress the trigger.

Danny held his breath, and struggled to compose himself. He was doing this for Steve. For Steve, and his family, Danny reminded himself.

"C'mon," Danny said, moving his hands in spite of his resolve not to cause the person aiming in his direction any added aggravation. After all, he had Steve to consider.

Steve, who stood beside him, an arm slung around Danny's waist in a show of familiarity they rarely allowed outsiders to see. Danny didn't need to see his partner's face to know that he, too, had a forced smile adorning his lips.

"Stay still, Danno," Steve whispered out of the corner of his mouth, smile fixed firmly in place. "We don't want to piss this guy off."

Danny had a moment to consider the possible consequences, and didn’t like any of them. The consequences would be dire, and costly.

"I am holding still," Danny complained through clenched teeth, keeping his smile intact. He twisted a little in Steve's firm grip, and the ready shooter made a disgruntled sound.

"If you do not hold still..." the unspoken threat hung heavy in the air, and Danny nodded, eyes going wide as the man standing across from them made an unhappy noise at the unsanctioned movement. He made a tsking sound, and readjusted his aim. Danny felt faint.

Danny didn’t need Steve’s warning hiss to, “Behave,” or the extra press of fingers in his hip joint to understand that he’d made a near fatal move.

This wasn’t a cheap man for hire that Danny and Steve were facing. This was a man with a certain reputation to uphold. One that he refused to let anyone sully, let alone a couple of members of Hawaii’s Five-0 task force. At least that’s what Chin had uncovered in his intense research of the man two weeks prior. He’d warned both Danny and Steve, and Danny, foolishly, thought he’d known what to expect.

He hadn’t. The man was far more intense. More insane than Chin had intimated.

Danny held his breath, fought the urge to scratch the sudden itch that had developed on the bridge of his nose, and bit his tongue as nervous words threatened to bubble forth. He had to control himself, if not for him own sake, then for Steve’s. Steve deserved this. He deserved everything good that Danny could give him, in this life, and, God willing, the next.

He could feel sweat trickling down his back. Wondered how Steve could be so calm, under the circumstances, when he was practically crawling out of his skin with nerves, and the fear that if he moved, just a half an inch in either direction, everything would be shot to hell. No pun intended.

Steve tightened his grip on Danny's waist, as though he could sense his partner's mounting tension. The impending implosion that would send Danny into frenzied action, despite what was pointed directly at the two of them, carefully aimed to shoot, just as soon as the professional was ready, and sure that the shot would be absolutely perfect.

That was the maddening part of this. The man’s obsession with perfection.

Chin had explained it all to them in great detail, but experiencing it firsthand somehow made Chin’s words seem hollow. They did not do this man, or this painstaking process, justice.

Danny just wanted it to be over. Sooner rather than later. He’d never really appreciated that overused phrase until now, because now he could fully understand just what it meant.

"Relax, Danno, it'll be over soon, and then we'll..." Steve let his voice trail off, let his fingers ghost over Danny's hip in a promise of what was to come should Danny remain still and survive this.

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Danny asked out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his smile in place, feeling a bead of sweat gather into his collar.

That was it, he couldn't do it. He felt faint. Dizzy. Dark spots danced in front of his vision. Danny twitched, feeling the sweat roll from his collar down his chest, making him uncomfortable, and itchy, and like he was going to come right out of his skin if this torture wasn't over soon.

"Stop moving!" the command was shouted, and Danny couldn’t breathe.

The man’s hands dipped and swayed, shook. Clearly angry, the man snarled, and Danny, caught mid-move, swallowed, eyes going wide as they locked on Steve's in a look of mild terror. This was it, Danny thought. He'd blown it, and Steve would never forgive him. He'd never forgive himself for screwing this up.

Danny thought of his family on the mainland. Of Grace and Charlie. Of his and Steve’s ‘ohana in Hawaii. Of their friends. How disappointed they would all be.

As the man straightened, mouth in a tight line, angry energy focused unerringly on Danny and Steve, the man glared at them, trigger finger at the ready, and Danny stopped moving, head tilted slightly upward in a look of love and apology to Steve, his mouth frozen in what would forever be mistaken for a besotted smile as the man finally took the shot, immortalizing the two men in a photograph that would hold a treasured place on their nightstand for years to come.

Several dizzying and blinding shots later -- the photographer a veritable whirlwind, just as Chin had described, and cantankerous, to boot, also as described -- and Danny and Steve had pictures for their post wedding announcements.

Never again, Danny thought, hours and several mollifying kisses later, eyes sliding closed in exhaustion, the tension finally bleeding away, because the man he loved was lying beside him, softly snoring, a contented smile gracing his lips.

From here on out, we’ll take selfies, or beg Grace to take a couple of pictures of us with her phone, Danny decided, sleep trying to pull him under. No more torturous, uptight, Van Goghesque photographers who mistake us for professional contortionists.

Sighing, Danny burrowed his cheek into the pillow of Steve’s chest, and finally gave way to sleep.