Notes: Mari and Sammy – Thank you, as always, for the incredible feedback! Planning this wedding with the two of you has been such fun I don't even have the words to describe it. I'll save them all for the actual writing :-)

Readers and REAL McRollers – Thank you for trusting us. Believe me, we never take that for granted. Of course I'm behind on review responses, but please know I do appreciate every word!


In Spirit (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)

Catherine entered the living room in time to hear the end of Steve's phone conversation. His head was down, one hand at his waist as he spoke.

"Yeah, yeah, of course I understand," he said, trying to keep all traces of disappointment out of his voice. "I appreciate you calling." He paused, listening to the speaker. "Thank you. And listen, if you change your mind . . ." He waited, listening once again. "Okay. Take care." Ending the call, he couldn't contain a small sigh.

"Who was that?" Catherine asked, concerned.

"Patrick Hart," he said simply.

She let out her own disappointed sigh. "They're not coming," she stated, knowing by the tone of his voice it was true.

"No," he confirmed.

"Kelly?"

He shook his head and sat down heavily on the sofa, his shoulders slightly slumped. Without a word, she sat beside him and began rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I mean, I knew when we invited them they might not come . . ." he said, leaning forward on his knees and looking at his hands. "That they probably wouldn't, actually . . ." He sighed. "He wanted to call to tell me himself, not just send regrets by mail."

"I'm sorry, Steve. I know it would have meant a lot to have them there."

He inhaled deeply and sat up, his hand falling naturally to her knee as he looked at her. "Yeah. But I understand. It's tough. Especially for Kelly."

"I'm glad she and Sophia live so close to Freddie's parents."

"Yeah, I know that's helped a lot," he said. "The Harts . . . they're special people. I always knew they'd support Kelly one hundred percent, because that's the kind of people they are."

Catherine smiled softly, nodding.

Steve looked down for a moment. "I remember the first time I met 'em. Bonnie, she . . . she was so open, right from the start. Hard to say no to." He smiled. "Like Freddie."

Parents' Weekend, Naval Academy, August 1995

"Close quarters," Patrick Hart said while looking around the small room in Bancroft Hall.

"Yeah, good thing I've got a decent roommate," Freddie said as Steve stepped into the room. "Speak of the devil. Hey, McGarrett, these are my parents. Patrick and Bonnie Hart."

Steve paused, momentarily disconcerted. He had stayed outside once they were released after the noon lunch formation to give Freddie time with his parents and hadn't expected them to still be in the room. He recovered and held out his hand to greet them. "Nice to meet you, sir, ma'am. Steve McGarrett."

Bonnie Hart smiled warmly, squeezing his hand with both of hers. "So nice to meet you, Steve. I see you made it through this whole . . . plebe summer in one piece."

Steve nodded.

"Tough six weeks, was it?" Patrick asked.

"Yes, sir," Steve said. He gave them a small smile. "I'm ready to sleep for a couple of days, to be honest."

"I'll bet," Bonnie said with a light laugh. "Are your parents coming this weekend?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, no, my . . ." He paused for a beat. "I lost my mother when I was sixteen."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Bonnie said, her face morphing sympathetically.

Steve's reply was automatic. "Thank you."

"What about your father?" Patrick asked.

"He's . . ." Steve shifted again, clearing his throat. "He's a police officer in Hawaii. He's . . . not here."

There was a pause as the elder Harts exchanged a quick look.

"Hawaii?" Bonnie said after a moment. "That's certainly a long way from Annapolis."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, if you ever want to come home with Freddie when you're on break"

"On leave, Ma," Freddie corrected.

"Oh, that's right, on leave." She smiled at Steve. "You're welcome anytime. Philadelphia's only a couple hours away. Our house is open to you."

"Thank you, ma'am," Steve said. He nodded to Patrick. "Sir. I should let you all have some time alone." He took a step toward the door.

"Nonsense," Bonnie said quickly. "We're not going to kick you out of your room. And you want to sleep. Freddie's going to show us around now, but why don't you join us for dinner tomorrow?"

"Oh, that's . . . that's nice of you, but you don't have to do that, ma'am," Steve insisted. "I'm fine here."

Bonnie shook her head. "It would be our pleasure, wouldn't it?" she said, nudging her husband, who nodded.

"Of course," Patrick agreed.

"That's settled, then," Bonnie said. "Oh, Freddie, before we go, Kelly sent this." She took a small package from her purse and gave it to her son.

Freddie unwrapped the tissue paper and grinned at the small frame with a photo of the two of them beaming at the camera, cheeks pressed together. Opening his desk drawer, he tucked the frame inside with surprising care.

"Thanks, Ma."

"Such a sweet girl," Bonnie said, smiling happily. "What about you, Steve? Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, ma'am," Steve said.

Patrick nodded approvingly. "Good for you. Keep your eyes on your goal." He motioned to his son. "You can keep Freddie on track."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Aww, come on, Dad."

Bonnie cut in before the familiar argument could begin. "Well, we'll leave you alone for now, Steve, but dinner tomorrow for sure. 6:00?"

"1800, Ma."

"Oh, I forgot," Bonnie said and laughed self-deprecatingly. Her fingers brushed one of her son's shoulder boards, and she flushed with pride. "I'll get it sooner or later."

"She never quite got the hang of military time," Steve said with a small smile, "but she meant it when she said I was always welcome at their house. She went from an open invitation to insisting I join them for Thanksgiving over the course of that first dinner."

Catherine smiled, rubbing his arm.

"Took a little longer to figure Patrick out," Steve continued. "He didn't talk as much." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Freddie used to say he didn't have any trouble gettin' along with me 'cause he'd had eighteen years with his old man."

Her smile widened. "I don't know, he was pretty talkative at dinner after your and Freddie's commissioning."

Steve laughed. "That was rare, believe me. But he was celebrating that day and had a couple drinks in him." His eyes softened. "He was so proud of Freddie."

"And you."

Steve gave a small nod.

He fell silent, thinking of that dinner with the Harts after seeing his own father after the ceremony.

Steve stepped outside for a little air while they waited for dessert. Leaning against the brick several feet from the door, he took a small piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it, staring at the stationary of a local hotel and the phone number scrawled in handwriting he hadn't seen in years but would know anywhere.

"I think you had the right idea, Steve," Patrick Hart said, a touch of his Irish brogue returning with the celebratory atmosphere and the whiskey he'd imbibed. "It's warm in there."

Steve straightened, quickly folding the paper and pushing it back in his pocket.

"Yeah," he said. "Just wanted to cool off for a minute."

"That Catherine is quite something. Smart as the day is long and beautiful to boot."

A smile appeared immediately on Steve's face. "Yeah, she is."

"I'm having a hard time believing you two are 'just friends,' " Patrick said with a skeptical look.

"We are," Steve insisted. He shifted, his hand straying to his pocket.

Patrick's brow knitted. "Are you all right, Steve? You seem preoccupied."

Steve avoided his eyes. "I'm fine," he said and looked toward the door. "We should go back in." He started to move in that direction, but stopped when Patrick spoke again.

"You know, there's a saying, 'You'll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind.' " Patrick waited till Steve looked at him, then continued, "If there's something you need to do, Steve, do it."

Steve paused before nodding and swallowed the lump in his throat, his hand once again going to his pocket. He caught sight of Catherine through the window, laughing at something Freddie was saying, and his expression softened.

Turning back to Patrick, he nodded more firmly. "Thank you, sir."

"Patrick."

"Patrick."

"He gave me some good advice that night," Steve said.

Catherine squeezed his arm, knowing where his thoughts had gone. "Maybe they'll change their minds," she said.

"Maybe," he acknowledged, but his tone was doubtful.

She ran a hand up his arm and squeezed his shoulder. "Why don't you go for a swim? That always helps clear your head."

He glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow. "You know me a little too well . . . you know that, right?"

She tapped the ring on her finger. "It's in the job description."

He smiled softly. "And we know how good at your job you are." His smile widened. "Got it in writing on that eval and everything."

She smiled back and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"You know, as many people as are coming to the wedding, there will be some who aren't there . . ." she said. "People we've lost or people who can't be there for whatever reason. But they'll still be with us in spirit."

He nodded slowly, holding her gaze, then shook his head with a trace of amazement.

"There you go again," he said.

"What?"

"Saying the exact right thing when I need it."

She smiled softly.

"You've always been good at that," he said, taking her hand in his and pressing his lips to it briefly. "I might even say you 'excel,' " he added with a grin, referencing her evaluation, though there was truth behind his teasing. His eyes grew more serious. "Thanks, Cath."

She leaned closer and kissed him.

"Always."


Thanks for reading!

Note: Thanks to hendriejoseph whose questions got me thinking about a few different flashback ideas, including this one.

Note: Second flashback references the story Real.

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