Author's Note: I was lying in bed staring at my ceiling when this idea struck me. I had been wanting to write a H50 story ever since I started watching the show a little over a week ago, and while I'm only 32 episodes into the total of 72, when this idea came to mind, I just couldn't let it go. If we're being technical, this isn't my first H50 story, though my other one is really an AU-esque crossover with Criminal Minds. Regardless, I think I'm going to love being a part of this fandom and community, and I would love to get to know a bunch of you! My twitter and tumblr are on my profile, so please hit me up! I'm always looking for new people to talk to and recommendations on stories, episodes, blogs, etc.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of its characters.

He's not surprised in the slightest to see that her bedroom is painted in the shade of the ocean.

He's even less surprised to see the six surfboards lining her walls, surrounding them, enclosing them in a sanctuary that is claustrophobically small but so uniquely her that he aches that sweet ache just a little bit more.

They're lying together in her bed, limbs intertwined, bodies glistening, his fingers lazily running patterns down the length of her spine, when Steve finally breaks the silence.

"I think I can guess the significance of the first board," he says, pointing to the one on the far left; because really, each board must hold a story or else she wouldn't include them in a space as intimate as her bedroom. He's reminded of that intimacy as she rolls over just barely, her breasts pressing against his hard chest in result. "But when were you planning on explaining the other five to me, Miss Kalakaua?" The other five that he somehow knows represent a sort of rainbow in chronological order - her life story, Steve realizes.

She smiles at him then, the giddy and gorgeous smile of the dazedly content. It captures him with a vice around his heart. "I'm unbelievably exhausted, Commander McGarrett," Kono answers, her eyes bright. "What makes you think I can stay awake for the ten minutes necessary to indulge your insatiable curiosity?"

His lips find the sun-kissed juncture of her collarbone, and he's rewarded with the impossibly sweet sound of a gasp leaving her lips. "I think you'll find I can be plenty persuasive."

His smile is enough to sway her, so Kono willingly moves into a more practical sitting position – though his arms are still wrapped snugly around her toned waist. The first board that he mentioned had been her first board ever, small and white and decorated with the perfectly childish pattern of turtles in the most perfect shade of purple. The water had been a family friend long before she was born, she had been told at a very young age. It was only fitting that she learn to travel the cerulean waves for herself.

"Okay, so you've guessed the significance of the first." Kono's gaze moves onto the second, a startlingly vibrant red board printed with white flowers, and her smile only grows wider. "Chin gave me this one when I first went pro," she reveals, looking away for just a second to meet his simultaneously intense and tender gaze. "I was only just realizing that he was the big brother I never really had, and when he gave me that board...I had no words." Absentmindedly, Kono twines her fingers with Steve's. "I later learned from my auntie that he saved up for much too long to buy it, even though she and my uncle had said they would pitch in to help him out."

They share a laugh, and Steve can't help but press his lips to her ear. "It sounds like you two were close. You still are. It's what makes the two of you such a dynamic pairing in the field."

"I'd like to hope so." Kono knows which board is number three, and as much as she wants to skip over it, pretend it's not there, it's a part of her. It has shaped her into the woman – the officer – she is today.

Already, Steve can feel the tension in her shoulders seeping down into her entire frame and he knows, he just knows, just like he had known with the first, the story behind the royal blue surfboard that is just out of reach on their left. He feels, rather than hears, her take a steadying breath, and he's speaking again before she gets the chance to. "You're safe, ku'uipo. You don't have to say any more."

But just like he had guessed, she's pressing a slender finger to his lips, her eyes never once leaving the chunk of polyurethane and fiberglass that is very obviously missing from the board's bottom right corner. "When I think of that day, it's all a blur. The feel of the Velcro strap wrapped around my ankle, the sound of that haole riding my wave, crashing into my board, the...the pain when I felt my knee bend in a way I knew couldn't be good." Her eyes fall shut, and she's indescribably thankful for Steve's strong embrace, surrounding her just like her seven boards surround them. "I remember waking up in the hospital and being told that I'd never be able to surf professionally again."

Steve bows his head then, too many emotions running through his veins. He has heard her scream before, out in the field when something has gone terribly wrong, but he can't imagine how she must have sounded after the initial impact – both physical and mental. He bows his head because he's so unbelievably thankful that she is sharing something this guarded and precious with him.

He bows his head, not because he feels pity for her or wishes he could turn back time, but because he loves her like he could love nobody else.

Kono is quiet for a while, but not in an uncomfortable way that suggests she has closed herself off. Rather, Steve can almost hear her thinking.

She also remembers Chin bringing her to physical therapy, bringing her to the shooting range, bringing her an application for the Academy. There are other memories that belong to that royal blue surfboard, memories she and another created in the middle of the Pacific so the board would represent something else to her: the day she really became a woman.

She doesn't think Steve would prefer to hear the story of how she lost her virginity surrounded by her first lover, the Ocean, so she saves that story for another time and moves on. After all, she may still be young, but she's not naïve anymore.

"Board number four." His hands are on her shoulders now, slowly kneading them just the way she needs, just the way she likes. "Ian gave it to me after my accident," Kono says fondly, and Steve doesn't have to ask to know she is referring to Ian Adams, her mentor, her friend. The board he gave her is also blue, though a different, much lighter shade that is almost turquoise, and the significance of dark versus light is not lost on Steve. "He knew my career was over – hell, the entire island knew – but he never once gave up on me. This board...well, it set me off in the right direction."

"I'm so glad." His voice is husky, and he looks up above their heads to ignore the sting of tears that won't fall. His lips twitch at the sight of the zigzag bookshelf above her headboard; it reminds him of a wave, and again, Steve is not surprised at all. On the other side of the room, multicolored origami cranes dangle above her closet door like mistletoe – kiss me kiss me kiss me.

He kisses her, his Hawaiian princess, and she laughs. "Do you want to hear about number five or not, Mister Navy SEAL?"

Steve's unabashed grin makes her the happiest girl on the island. "You bet."

"It's the board I had been riding when I first met you," she reveals with a smile that is almost shy, and that's why the board looked so familiar. It's sunshine yellow and white and littered with stickers advertising one surf shop or another – and, if Steve remembers correctly, it perfectly compliments a certain marigold sarong of hers that actually glimmers gold under the hot Hawaiian sun. Kono winks at him, as if knowing where his mind went, before adding, "Well, you and Danny, but I'm not exactly in love with Jersey." They laugh again, louder, freer, and it's the best feeling in the entire world.

They're in the process of losing themselves in one another once more before Steve realizes they've forgotten one last board. It's on their far right and painted in a mixture of orange and pink like a truly beautiful sunset – or is it a sunrise, a new beginning? –, and when he looks at it with his typical questioning gaze, Kono actually blushes. That catches his attention.

"I didn't really need a new board," she says in explanation before he can even get out a word, "but I got one anyway."

"What for?"

Kono hesitates then, her bright eyes shimmering as she takes a leap of faith. "Well, I – I was actually hoping you'd help me write the story for that one."

Steve feels like he's just lost his breath for a very long moment, and he's certain he sees stars. But then they're kissing and the surfboards are long forgotten, the story of the sixth already halfway written.

THE END.

Author's Note: Seeing as I've only just begun to scratch the surface of season two, I'm still testing the waters to see which ship I adore, which ones I don't, but there just something about Steve and Kono that's...captivating. I hope I managed to capture that with this story.

I'd love to hear what you think! Feedback and support is always greatly appreciated, and seeing as I already have three other H50 stories outlined, I think I'm here to stay – so please drop me a line! Many thanks in advance.