Notes: Mari and Sammy – I feel like I've known you for years, and that is a fantastic feeling. Thanks for everything!

Readers and REAL McRollers – Your enthusiasm and support continue to amaze and inspire me. Thank you!

Special thanks to all the guys of my acquaintance who provided fodder from their pasts to help me write this story – particularly my brother, whose "ridiculousness" as he called it is now immortalized in fiction as well as scar tissue.

Hope you enjoy!


Better Late Than Never (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)

As she walked past the front desk at Iolani Palace, Catherine heard a man in a polo and khakis say, "Michael Young. I'm here to see Steve McGarrett . . . er . . . Commander McGarrett."

"Okay, sir," Officer Ray Alana said. "I'll just need to see some identification and to sign you in here. Then I'll take you up to Five-0's offices."

"Sure," Michael said.

He took out his wallet and produced his driver's license.

Catherine stepped up to the desk as Ray entered the pertinent information into his computer.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help overhear," she said. "Michael Young?"

He turned to her. "Yes?"

She smiled. "I'm Catherine Rollins."

"Oh!" he said, his eyes widening slightly. "You're Steve's . . ."

"Yeah." She offered her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too," he said as he shook her hand.

She looked at the officer. "If you've got what you need, Ray, I can take him up."

"Thanks, Lieutenant. I'm all set." He handed Michael his ID. "Here you go, sir."

"Thanks."

"Follow me," Catherine said and led him toward the stairs. "It's so great to meet you. Steve's really looking forward to seeing you after all these years." She gave him a knowing smile. "And I'm looking forward to some stories from when you guys were young."

"Well, I've got plenty of those," he assured her with a laugh.

Steve, Danny, Chin, and Kono looked up from the smart table when Catherine and Michael entered headquarters.

"Look who I found in the atrium," Catherine said as Chin closed out the open windows on the screen.

"Steve McGarrett," Michael said, shaking his head slowly and smiling.

Steve straightened, his hands on his hips. A smile spread across his face. "Michael Young."

He stepped toward them, reaching out to shake Michael's hand.

"It's been a long time, man," Steve said.

"I'll say," Michael agreed. "Twenty-two years."

Danny, Kono, and Chin joined them.

"Uh, this is Danny Williams and Kono Kalakaua," Steve said. "Looks like you already met Cath."

"Yeah," Michael said. He shook hands with Kono and Danny. "Nice to meet you both."

"You, too," Kono said.

Danny nodded. "Good to meet you."

"And you might remember Chin Ho Kelly," Steve said.

"Wow," Michael said and shook Chin's hand. "Yeah. Kukui High. I used to tag along with Steve and his dad sometimes to watch you play. You were incredible."

Chin smiled. "You weren't so bad yourself, if I remember right."

"Yeah, I managed to catch of few of this guy's passes," Michael said with a grin, motioning to Steve.

"More than a few," Steve put in. "You were my top receiver."

"Should've been, all the time we spent tossing a football around even before we got to high school."

Steve huffed a laugh in agreement.

"So you knew Steve way back when, huh?" Danny asked, folding his arms and smiling.

"Yeah, my family moved here when I was in fifth grade. Steve was in my class."

"And we didn't live too far apart so we got to be friends pretty fast," Steve added.

"You and I definitely need to talk," Danny said, waving a hand between them. "My imagination is running wild and I want . . . no, I . . . I need to hear stories."

Chin laughed. "I think we all do."

"That's what dinner tonight is for," Steve said. "Everyone still in?"

"Definitely," Kono said.

"I wouldn't miss it," Chin agreed.

Danny waved a hand. "I'll even go so far as to say the first round is on me."

"Such generosity, Danny," Catherine teased.

"It's entirely selfish, I assure you." He folded his arms and grinned. "I just want to get the stories flowing as quickly as possible."

Steve put his hands on his hips. "What exactly do you imagine I did as a kid that you think is going to be so interesting?"

"Oh, I am much more interested in some teenage stories, my friend."

Steve chuckled. "Well, in that case, Michael and I need to review exactly what can be declassified."

The others laughed, and Danny rolled his eyes.

"So how about I show you around here real quick, then we head out," Steve said. "There's someone else I want you to meet."

"Sounds great," Michael said. "My conference sessions are done, and I'm free the rest of the day."

"Excellent."


After a tour of HQ, Steve drove Michael to the Allens' apartment where Cody was waiting outside. He was leaning against the wall of the building, basketball at his feet, but pushed off and straightened when he saw Steve's truck.

Steve and Michael exited the vehicle and walked over to meet him.

"Hey, Cody," Steve said.

"Hey," the teen replied, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"This is Michael Young," Steve said. "Michael, this is Cody Allen."

"Nice to meet you," Michael said and offered his hand.

Cody shook it. "You, too."

"It was actually Cody's idea for me to look you up," Steve said.

"Was it?"

Steve nodded. "Yep."

"Then I owe you, Cody," Michael said. "Thank you for giving Steve the idea."

Cody looked down, a small smile on his face. He nodded.

He turned to Steve. "I brought my ball down like you asked." He looked back toward the building where he had left the ball.

Steve nodded. "Good."

As Cody ran over to get it, Steve said to Michael, "Thought we might shoot some hoops. Quick game of HORSE."

Michael looked over at the court across the street and nodded. "Okay."

Cody rejoined them, and Steve smiled.

"Fair warning, though. Cody's really good."

"Oh yeah?" Michael asked, looking at the teen.

Cody shrugged. "I'm all right," he said, but he was holding back a full-blown smile.

They started across the street to the court.

"This should bring back some memories," Michael said.

"You guys used to shoot around?" Cody asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I mean, we played more football than basketball, but we were up for any sport. Baseball, street hockey, basketball . . ."

"My brother played in high school," Michael said. "And we had a hoop at my house." He looked at Steve. "Remember that time we lowered the rim so we could dunk?"

Steve laughed. "Oh, yeah. Took it down to eight feet."

"You did?" Cody asked.

"Yeah," Michael said. "I got the scar to prove it." He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side to show Cody the mark on his shoulder. "Tried a reverse and hit the corner of the backboard."

"Man, did that bleed," Steve said.

"I tried to hide my bloody shirt from my mom in the bottom of the laundry, but that never works." He shook his head. "She took me to get stitches."

"I told you it needed stitches," Steve said.

Cody looked between them, smiling. "How old were you guys?"

"About fourteen," Steve said, chuckling.

"Of course, that's not how I tell people I got that scar," Michael said with a grin. "Or if I do, I usually leave out the part about lowering the rim. But somehow they never believe I ever dunked on a hoop at regulation height." He measured his height against Cody's with a hand drawing a virtually even imaginary line between them and gave an exaggerated shrug. "Go figure."

Cody laughed.

"What else did you guys do?" he asked.

Michael looked at Steve. "Did you tell him how we used to race on our paper routes?"

"Yeah," Steve said.

"Who was faster?" Cody asked.

"I was," Steve and Michael said at the same time.

They looked at each other.

"Oh, come on," Steve said. "I beat you way more often than you beat me."

"And I still say your route was shorter."

"That's crazy," Steve said. "But even if it was, I definitely had more houses on mine."

Cody smiled broadly, looking between them.

"Moving along," Michael said with a laugh. "Let's see . . . what else did we do? In high school we got into poker. Except we used baseball cards for uh . . . for currency."

Steve chuckled. "Right." He stopped and looked at Cody. "Not that I'm endorsing gambling."

Michael cringed. "Oh, right. Yeah. Oops." He looked at Cody and shook his head. "Don't uh . . . don't gamble."

"Right," Steve said.

Cody laughed.

Steve motioned at the ball. "We gonna play or what?"

Cody offered the ball to Michael. "First shot?"

"First shot?" Steve said, feigning incredulity. "You never offer me first shot."

"I did that time around your birthday," Cody said.

"Oh, yeah, one time," Steve teased.

Cody hid a grin, and Steve laughed. He waved a hand at Michael.

"All right, I guess you're up."

Michael winced. "I haven't played in a long time. This could get ugly."

Steve smiled and nudged Cody with his elbow. "At least I'll beat someone, then, huh?"

Cody gave a little laugh, and Michael lined up to take his shot.

About forty-five minutes later, they'd finished their game and were drinking water on the court.

Cody looked at his watch.

"I gotta go," he said and bent to pick up the ball. "Casey's practice is almost done."

"You want me to drop you off?" Steve asked.

"No, it's okay. I'm just getting her. Mom's picking up everyone else."

"You sure?"

Cody nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, I'll call you about this weekend."

"Okay." He looked at Michael. "Nice to uh . . . nice to meet you."

"You, too, Cody," Michael said. "Thanks for the game. And for not laughing at me too hard."

Cody smiled and glanced down.

He looked back up and said, "Bye."

"Bye," Michael said.

"See ya," Steve said as Cody headed across the street to drop off his ball.

The two men stayed where they were. After a moment, Michael said, "That's a good kid right there."

"Yeah," Steve said. "He's something special."

"You've been mentoring him for how long?"

"We met 'em in December and started meeting regularly in January." A small smile appeared on his face. "Feels like longer."

"That's . . . that's really great, Steve. I uh . . . I never really thought about it before but . . . I think I'm gonna see if there's any mentoring programs in Phoenix I can volunteer with."

"You should," Steve said. "I'm sure there are. Probably several." He nodded at Michael. "You should do it. It can make a ton of difference in a kid's life."

His gaze drifted to where Cody was opening the apartment building door.

"And you'll be surprised how it goes both ways."


At dinner surrounded by the Five-0 team, Michael was in the middle of a story.

"So Steve figures he'll just climb up and–"

Danny interrupted, waving a hand at Steve. "You did not . . . tell me you did not literally rescue a kitten from a tree." He shook his head as the others laughed. "Because that is just too . . . I . . . I can't even . . ."

"Speechless, Danno?" Steve asked with a smirk. "That's not like you."

Danny made a face at him.

Steve held up his hands. "What? You would have left the cat up there?"

"Of course I wouldn't have left the cat up there. It's just . . . of all the cliched . . . I mean, were you actually wearing a Boy Scout uniform? Or was this a plain-clothes rescue?"

Steve rolled his eyes with a chuckle, and the rest at the table laughed.

"I was just glad it was Steve and not me," Michael said. "After he rescued her kitten, Becky Thornton followed him around for weeks."

Catherine nudged Steve teasingly with her elbow. "Jenny Feldman didn't get jealous?"

"Becky Thornton was nine." He smirked and raised his beer bottle to his mouth. "And I hadn't met Jenny Feldman yet."

She laughed heartily at that, and he took a drink.

"And that was the same summer I broke my wrist thanks to your big idea," Michael said.

Steve pointed at him. "That was not my fault."

"I didn't say it was your fault, I said it was your idea."

Steve nodded with a little wince. "It was my idea."

Michael looked at the rest of the table. "He thought we could get more papers delivered faster if one of us used rollerblades attached to a bike with a rope."

"To be fair, we did deliver a lot of papers when it was me on the rollerblades."

Danny laughed. "Of course you did."

"I can totally picture that," Chin said.

"And that was the summer we found my brother's dirty magazines . . ."

Catherine grinned. "Oh, now that I definitely need to hear about."

Steve smiled and took another drink.

Catherine looked at Michael with a sly look. "Was this before or after you broke your wrist?"

Michael paused and then barked a laugh. He looked at Steve.

"You . . . are a lucky man."

Danny grinned. "This is what I've been saying."

Steve smiled, draping his arm across the back of Catherine's chair as he finished his beer.

"Okay, I want to hear some school stories," Chin said.

Kono swallowed a sip of her drink. "Yeah, some non-football ones. We've heard a lot of those before."

Steve and Michael looked at each other.

"Okay, I got a good one," Michael said. "Sophomore year, we got the idea to create this fake rugby team."

Steve grinned, nodding. "The Kukui High Rugby Club."

"What?" Chin asked.

"How did you create a fake rugby club?" Kono asked.

"I think the better question is why would you create a fake rugby club," Danny said.

Steve shrugged. "To see if we could."

"There were about fifteen of us, all football players," Michael said. "We just needed a teacher to sign-off and be the advisor." He pointed at Steve. "Mr. Smooth-Talker over there worked that out for us with Mrs. Lamont, our English teacher. You told her it'd be a good social experiment, right?"

"And it was," Steve said.

"So . . . what?" Catherine asked, looking between them. "You just told everyone you were on a rugby team?"

"We said it was good off-season training," Michael said. "And it totally worked. We could slip in recaps of our 'games' into the morning announcements 'cause I was kinda dating a girl who was an office helper. People used to come up to us in the hallway and ask when the next game was."

"What'd you tell 'em?" Kono asked.

Michael took a drink and grinned. "That the league was so new that we didn't know week to week where or when the games would be."

Chin laughed. "And people bought that?"

"Totally," Steve said with a chuckle.

Michael laughed. "We had t-shirts printed up, and we even posed for a yearbook picture, remember that?"

Steve paused.

"Uh . . . no," he said, glancing down.

"Oh, man," Michael said, deflating instantly. "Right, yeah, you were gone."

The others stayed quiet.

Michael looked sincerely apologetic. "I'm sorry."

Steve shook his head. "It's okay." He smiled. "Yearbook photo? Really?"

Michael chuckled. "Yeah. One of the guys . . ." He thought for a second. "Nate McMillan . . . his older sister was dating this guy who I think actually played rugby. He posed as our coach."

"That's a nice touch," Steve said.

"The next year? We really did start playing rugby."

Steve smiled. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Wish you could have been there," Michael said, his voice genuine.

"Yeah," Steve said quietly.

Under the table, Catherine put her hand on Steve's leg and squeezed it gently. He flashed her a quick smile and looked around the table.

Holding up his empty bottle, he asked, "We gettin' another round?"


Not long after, Chin and Kono left for the evening. Danny stayed for another round, then he stood.

"Well, I think I'm gonna call it an evening." He held out a hand. "Michael, it's been an absolute pleasure."

"Yeah, really great to meet you," Michael said and shook his hand.

Danny grinned, casting a quick look at Steve. "I appreciate the uh . . . insight . . . into my partner's early life."

Steve chuckled and took a drink.

"Anytime," Michael said with a smile.

"I'll walk out with you, Danny," Catherine said, gathering her purse.

Steve lifted his hand from her chair, his fingers running lightly across her back as she stood, and he smiled at her.

"Oh, you don't have to leave, Catherine," Michael said.

She smiled. "I've gotta check on Cammie. And you guys should have some time to yourselves to catch up."

Steve smiled his thanks, and Michael nodded appreciatively.

"Will we see you again before you leave?" Catherine asked.

"I hope so. My days are pretty packed with conference stuff but my evenings are free for the most part."

"You should come by the house," she said with a glance at Steve. "I'm sure you spent a lot of time there when you were a kid."

"Yeah, you can see what we've done with the place," Steve agreed.

Michael nodded. "Okay. That sounds great."

Catherine smiled. "Okay. Till then. Good night."

"Night," Michael said.

Catherine leaned down and kissed Steve quickly.

"Bye," she said.

"See you at home."

She smiled and nodded, then stepped back.

Danny gave a short wave. "See you in the morning."

Steve nodded. "Yep. Night."

As Catherine and Danny walked away, Steve signalled for another round of beers.

"So your parents are in Phoenix, too?" he asked.

"Yeah, just outside the city," Michael said. "Dad finally retired this year."

They talked for the next half hour on a range of topics: Michael's parents and brother, his job, Five-0, the renovations at the beachhouse, and even briefly on Michael's divorce.

After Steve returned from a quick trip to the restroom, Michael set down his bottle and looked at him.

"So, I . . . I gotta ask. What happened?"

Steve looked down, taking a slow breath.

Michael continued, "I mean . . . you show up at my house one night saying your dad had lost it and was sending you to a military school, and then you were just . . . gone."

Steve paused.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Turns out my uh . . . my family history's complicated." He looked at Michael. "I didn't know it at the time, but . . . my dad was trying to protect me and my sister."

Michael regarded him seriously. "That sounds . . . intense."

"Yeah." He licked his lips and shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry I never . . . got in touch, you know? I . . ." He sighed and shifted in his seat. "Well, like I said, I didn't know what was going on at the time, and I was . . . confused and . . . angry," he admitted quietly. "And then I joined the Navy and didn't really look back."

"Yeah, I . . . I tried to talk to your dad once but . . . he just said it was something that had to be done. My parents said I had to respect that. And I didn't have any way to get a hold of you." His look turned guilty. "I mean, I guess I could have tried to write a letter or something . . ."

Steve shook his head. "I probably wouldn't have written back even if you had. Don't sweat it, Michael. We were kids."

"Better late than never, right?"

"Right."

"I still can't really believe what happened to your dad. I'm sorry, Steve," he said sincerely. "That's a hell of a thing."

"Yeah," Steve said quietly. "Thanks."

"And you said Mary's in L.A. now?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah, with her daughter, Joan. She's doing real good. We were just with them for a week actually. In New York at Catherine's parents' house."

Michael nodded slowly and raised his eyebrows. "So . . . Catherine."

Steve looked down, a soft smile on his face. "Catherine."

He took a drink.

"You did good there, I'll give you that," Michael said. "God. Funny, smart, gorgeous. I mean, the only flaw I can see is she's clearly crazy about you. So that might call her judgment into question."

Steve chuckled, and Michael took a drink.

"So when are you guys gettin' married?"

Steve opened his mouth to speak then huffed a laugh mixed with a sigh.

"Sorry, is that a taboo subject?" Michael asked. He shrugged. "It just seems like you two have this life together, and that would be the next step."

Steve scratched the back of his head.

Michael held up a hand. "I know, I know, recently divorced guy here suggesting you get married, it's just . . . I mean, Beth and I kinda rushed into things." A shadow came over his eyes. "And it didn't work out for us," he said quietly.

He paused, chewing his lower lip.

Steve stayed silent, watching him.

Recalling himself, Michael shrugged. "It doesn't seem like that's an issue with you and Catherine."

"No," Steve agreed.

"So . . ." Michael prompted.

Steve paused.

"We'll get there," he said. He smirked, raising his bottle to his lips. "Eventually."

He took a drink, and Michael laughed.

"Fair enough."

Steve smiled softly.

"We're happy," he said.

Michael nodded slowly, studying him.

After a moment, he said, "You got a really nice life here, Steve."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"I'm happy for you."

He angled his bottle toward Steve who clinked it with his own.

Steve nodded. "Thanks, man."

"And when 'eventually' comes . . .?" Michael said, quirking an eyebrow. "I expect an invite."


Hope you enjoyed!

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