Danny's New Love

by KristiLynn

An undercover assignment to bring down a white supremacist leads Danny to the woman he needs in his life, courtesy of Steve playing matchmaker.

1. Chapter 1

"Hawaii Five-0 Romance"

Author: KristiLynn

Author's Note: Because of the new "Hawaii Five-0", I have become interested in the original series, and have been fortunate enough to find a couple of seasons on DVD and view it. The relationship between Steve and Danny was wonderful, more like brothers, than boss and subordinate. So I decided to write my own story, using a character I've had for years—Kris Morrow, Naval brat (if you want to borrow her, let me know and I'll fill you in on her background)-and pairing her up with Danny, as a love interest. And I know that on the show, they seldom used civilians to go undercover, but she's not an ordinary civilian. Hey, it's a romantic/mystery fan fiction with hurt/comfort. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks to Kristin, Kathy, Dillon, and Jan for their help and encouragement as well. Western riding only became an event in college equestrian competition in 2001, according to "Practical Horseman" magazine, but my purposes—it was around much earlier. As a side note, I don't know how much of a problem racial attacks were in Hawaii at this time, but they still occurred in Georgia—up until the mid 1970's, especially in rural areas, mainly against African-Americans. The names of shops and/or restaurants, as well as information about the various sites, events, and weather, comes from "Frommer's Hawaii". I took the liberty of changing some of the names.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them. They belong to Jack Lord and James MacArthur (who portrayed them so wonderfully for so many years), along with CBS. This is set a couple of years after Danny lost Jane. Thanks to Kristin and Ashley for help with the time line and ages. Forgive any errors about the 1970's, as I was very young then and my memory is vague. I credit the name of Niles as Bergman's first name to Frasier Crane's brother on "Frasier" (on NBC), portrayed so wonderfully by David Hyde Pierce. And special thanks to Barbara Huff's "Coin" trilogy for the background on Steve and Danny's early days and Danny's family.

Chapter One:

The Iolani Palace, in Honolulu, Hawaii, was once the home of Hawaiian Royalty. Now it is known as the home of Governor Jameson's Special Task Force, better known as Hawaii Five-O. Under the leadership of former Naval Intelligence Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett, and his Second-in-Command, former Honolulu Police Detective, Danny Williams, it has risen to international prominence for its successful record in solving difficult and bizarre crimes, with high profile victims or criminals.

On Monday, March tenth, nineteen seventy-two, a white Jeep parks in front of the huge peach-colored stone building. The young lady who gets out takes a moment to stare at it, wondering why she was summoned to Five-0's Headquarters—having received the call late yesterday afternoon. After a few seconds, she glances at her watch, discovering that she has fifteen minutes before her ten a. m. appointment with Steve McGarrett. A uniformed police officer stationed at the entrance politely gives her directions to the office as she signs in.

Jenny Sherman, a petite brunette, who has been Steve's secretary for the last few years, looks up in approval when an attractive young woman walks in exactly ten minutes before her appointment, "You must be Miss. Morrow?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I have an appointment at ten with Mr. McGarrett."

"Of course. I'll let Steve know you're here."

Jenny vanishes into an inner-office, then returns with a warm smile at the young lady, "Steve will see you now. Follow me."

Steve McGarrett looks up approvingly at the girl who walks into his office, ten minutes early. She carries herself confidently, obviously not intimidated by his presence (unlike a lot of people he's met). She also has a friendly smile on her face. She's fairly tall for a woman, five feet eight inches, with a slender, willowy build. Her hair, put up in an elegant chignon, is a rich golden brown, with a few wisps softly framing her delicate face. Her eyes, framed by long, feathery lashes, are a stunning midnight blue. Her skin is a delicate pale ivory, with just a hint of make-up—leaving her looking fresh and natural. She's casually dressed in a knee-skimming white linen skirt, that accents her long legs, a teal blue summer sweater, and white ballet flats. Her jewelry is simple: an oval-cut dark blue topaz ring in a raised setting, a matching pendant (both in sterling silver), and a tiny sterling silver watch.

Steve comes around the corner of his desk to greet his visitor, "Miss. Morrow, it's nice to see you again. We met before, at the District Attorney's office, didn't we?"

"Yes, Sir, about a year ago. But I prefer Kris," she answers in a soft Southern accent, but with genuine warmth and friendliness.

Kris gets her first close look at the "infamous" head of Five-0: Steve McGarrett. He's six feet three inches tall, and on the lanky side. His coal black hair is worn parted just above his left ear. His eyes are a piercing ice blue. He's impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit, with light blue cotton shirt and blue silk tie. She accurately guesses his age to be in his early fifties. His voice, with a subtle trace of a New England accent, has that unmistakable air of authority, "Alright Kris, please have a seat. And call me Steve."

She sits down in a white leather chair on the other side of the massive oak desk, perching gracefully on the edge, legs crossed at the ankle, waiting patiently for him to start. Her white straw bag is on the floor beside her. Her attitude is one of alertness, her blue eyes taking in every detail of the man in front of her and the room she's in. "Tell me about yourself," he asks, though it comes out as more of a command than a request.

Kris complies readily, "I'm twenty-six, born at the Hospital at Pearl. My father is a Naval Physician, now Lieutenant Commander, stationed at Kings Bay Submarine Base, on the Georgia Coast. After serving in Korea as a Combat Medic, he went to med school, has served in Vietnam, volunteering for duty in a field hospital rather than staying on a ship—was wounded and received the Purple Heart. We lived here

until I was sixteen years old. That was when he transferred back to Georgia. He was

born and raised in Brunswick, not far from Savannah. My mother was a nurse until a car accident when I was sixteen—which is part of the reason we moved back to Georgia. She's from Savannah, both their home towns are on the Coast," her voice is soft, but has a subtle Southern accent, with a faint hint of Hawaiian mixed in.

"Did you attend college?"

"Yes Sir. Wesleyan, a small women's college in Macon. I majored in Criminal Justice, with my minor in Psychology—I was a member of the school's first Criminal Justice class, with my Bachelors. I also competed as a member of the Equestrian Team, in Stock Seat. And won the National Collegiate Championship, two years straight. Also did some Hunter/Jumper riding, and took lessons in Saddleseat."

"Why did you return to Hawaii?"

Kris shrugs her slender shoulders, smiling prettily, "It's home. I came into an unexpected inheritance from my maternal grandparents. I was able to locate a ranch not far from here."

"And you work part-time for the District Attorney's office?"

"Yes Sir. My father and Richard, the DA, were best friends while growing up," Kris explains, "Less than two weeks after I moved back, he approached me about

working for him as a special investigator—working with women and children who have been the victims of domestic violence, child abuse, or sexual assault. I have a knack for dealing with them—putting them at ease and getting them to open up, which makes getting detailed statements much easier. I also support them in court, guiding them through the process. It's demanding, but very rewarding. I also do some press work for him at times."

"Do you like what you're doing," Steve asks, impressed with her maturity.

"Yes Sir. I love it. I also set my own hours, which leaves me plenty of time for the Ranch."

"Ranch?"

"Ko'Olau Ranch, named for the Mountain Range, where I have the State's only herd of Missouri Fox Trotters and have a small boarding and lesson business."

"How many horses do you have?"

"A stallion, dozen broodmares, and a couple of Morgan mares for lessons and cattle work. I eventually want to bring in more Morgans and raise them as well, so I'm currently working on that with the State Ag Department—along with Heritage Breed hogs and poultry. I board another half-a-dozen horses, mainly trail horses but also a couple of show. I do some training and showing as well. I've got a couple of Quarter Horse and Fox Trotter geldings to give lessons on and work cattle with," Kris smiles warmly, "I also have a herd of grass-fed Angus cattle, a garden with mostly heirloom plants, and free-range chickens—which keep the bugs down in the garden. My housekeeper and I split the garden and eggs. We also have Ossabow Island hogs that we raise for meat. Margo and her husband get part of the meat from the hogs and cattle that we send to the butcher for personal use. We also sell to local restaurants. Nice little extra income."

"Can I ask who your housekeeper is?"

"Sure, Margo Kelly. I believe her husband Mik is a cousin of your detective, Chin Ho Kelly. Mik is my foreman and has been with me from the beginning. The real-estate agent who handled the sale for me recommended him. And he's been terrific."

Steve nods. So far, everything is falling perfectly into place. She's obviously intelligent, quick-witted, and level-headed. But there's a few more things he needs to know. "How comfortable are you with guns?"

"Very. My father and grandfather taught me to shoot when I was fourteen. I used to hunt—deer and wild hogs on the Georgia Coast. When I moved back here, I got my permit. I have a Henry Repeating Rifle for the wild hogs—inherited it from my grandfather, along with a couple of antique Colt revolvers—in working condition—his grandfather was a U. S. Marshall in Arizona and New Mexico. I carry a thirty-two snub nose revolver in my purse when I'm out and about. I have a three fifty-seven Smith and Wesson Revolver, that I carry when I'm out trail riding—in case I run into wild hogs. I've seen people badly hurt and killed by them, especially when the sows have little ones—they can be vicious and rip someone apart. I prefer to be well-armed, just in case. I work with the State DNR to help control the population."

Steve takes a deep breath, now comes the difficult questions, "I see. Is there anyone who would object to you spending time with us?"

Kris raises a curious eyebrow, "If that's your way of asking if I'm seeing anyone, the answer is no. But I was engaged, before returning here."

"You were?"

"Our ideas of Island living were very different," she shrugs.

"How so?"

Kris shakes her head, "He wanted to live in a beach-front condo and party all the time, living off of my inheritance. Wouldn't even consider living out from Waikiki. The capper was when I overheard him talking to his best friend about how how he'd have to think about another woman in order to 'bring himself to the sticking point', plus about what all he was going to buy with my money, and the girlfriend he was seeing, while engaged to me, and would continue to see after we were married."

"Good grief—what did you do," Steve stares at her in amazement.

"I was on the porch, ready to knock, when I heard the conversation. So I stormed in, snatched the phone out of his hand and hung it up, took the ring off, threw it into the fireplace, and gave him a black eye. Two weeks later, here I was."

"Have you seen him since that day?"

"Oh he showed up a few months ago—all smiles and apologetic, with flowers, wanting to take me out to dinner and show me how he'd changed. Mik escorted him off

the Ranch and I told him if he ever showed his face again, I'd shoot him." She doesn't tell Steve where she threatened to shoot him—figuring it's not something he would appreciate hearing."

"So your free time is pretty much your own?"

"Pretty much. Except for the horses."

Chapter Two:

Steve leans back in his chair. He genuinely likes the young lady, confirming his initial impression of her from when he met her at the DA's office a year ago. Not only is she attractive, but extremely intelligent. She's polite, well mannered, with a terrific sense of humor. He can also tell she's caring and compassionate as well—confirming what Richard told him.

Kris waits patiently for McGarrett to tell her why he's called her in. She's heard stories about man ever since her return to the Island: tough, demanding, instinctive when dealing with crime, stoic in the face of injury, quick tempered, courageous, fiercely loyal to his detectives—especially his Second-in-Command, Danny Williams.

"I assume you've heard about a recent series of attacks against native Hawaiians here on Oahu? Several people beaten, two killed, one missing and presumed dead."

"Yes, I have. I read in the paper where y'all are working on it."

"We have a suspect, but no real evidence against him. So I've asked you here for a reason. Would you be interested in helping us with an under-cover assignment?"

"What sort of assignment?"

"I want you to move into the house next him, to gain his trust and see if you can get evidence. Even befriend his wife, if possible."

Kris nods in understanding, "You need a white woman?"

"Exactly. You'll be working with my Second-in-Command, Danny Williams, as husband and wife. There's a rental next door that we're arranging to use."

"Have you got a file on him?"

Steve hands Kris a file folder, "Here's what we've got. You can look at it while we're waiting on Danny. He's got a dental appointment this morning."

Kris spends a few minutes reading through the file, making mental notes. She looks up—Steve finding those dark blue eyes sparkling with lively intelligence, "I know this guy."

"You do? What's your take on him?"

"I went to school with him. He was a year ahead of me."

"And?"

"He was a bad boy. Had a reputation for being rough with the girls—if you get my meaning, but nothing was ever done to him because no one ever came forward. His father was a raging alcoholic and eventually was kicked out of the Navy with a Dishonorable Discharge when he was caught drinking on the job for the third time, and his mother wasn't much better from what I heard. You've got to understand, the base school is fairly small, so word spreads quickly—good or bad. Dad told me the rumors floating around the base about his father being involved in some hate crimes on the Island, against both Orientals and native Hawaiians. He warned me away from him."

Steve can't help but being impressed, "And you didn't fall for the bad boy?"

Kris laughs a bit, "I had my nose buried in my books. And spent my free time at the farm where I boarded my horse. I wasn't pretty enough to attract Alex's attention. He was more interested in the 'loose girls'. They flocked to him for some unknown reason. He just didn't appeal to me. Good thing too."

Chapter Three:

A brief knock on the door causes Kris to look up. The young man who steps into the office is five feet eight inches tall, with a slender build. His sandy blond hair is curly. While his pale blue eyes have a merry twinkle. He's dressed in crisp khaki slacks, a navy blue cotton button-down short-sleeve shirt—minus a tie, and loafers. He looks to be in his late twenties. He's cute, she decides with a smile.

Danny Williams perches in his usual spot on the edge of Steve's desk, allowing his boss to make the introductions, "Kris—my Second-in-Command—Danny Williams. Danno, Kris Morrow."

Danny extends his hand, smiling warmly as he studies her, "I think I've seen you at the DA's office."

"You have. I'm a special investigator, dealing with women and children," Kris answers with a genuine smile at both men.

"Apparently, Kris went to school with our suspect," Steve tells him, "And has agreed to help us out with this."

Danny turns back to Steve, his blue eyes now like ice, "Are you serious? We need a cop, not a civilian."

"We need someone white," Steve reminds him, "Besides—she knows him."

Kris clears her throat, causing both men to look at her, "Actually, I know his wife as well, Linda. She was in my class. A very shy, mousy, girl. Barely spoke—even though I tried to be friends with her. Surprised she married him. She wasn't the type to attract his attention. His preference back then was for tall, busty, blonds with no morals."

"This could be dangerous," Danny warns.

"More dangerous than a racist running around the Island, murdering anyone he doesn't like the looks of," she comments softly.

"Are you sure you want to do this," Steve asks, giving her an out.

"I'll be fine," Kris reassures the two men, then reaches into her purse and removes a tiny sterling silver card case, opening it to hand each men a card, "Here's my card, with my address and phone number. Why don't y'all come to dinner and we'll finalize things and get this show on the road?"

The two men exchange glances, then Steve speaks, "Six okay?"

"That's fine. I'll grill chicken and steam some rice and vegetables, if that's alright? Then show y'all around, introduce you to the menagerie."

"Sounds good," Danny can't help but laugh, having already taken a liking to her.

"Tomorrow, we'll get this show on the road," Kris smiles, "Go look at the house and start acting like newlyweds."

Steve can't help but smile at how easily this young woman seems to be settling into her new role, "Good deal. Danno and I will bring desert."

"Is iced tea alright? I make a mean pitcher of Southern-style iced tea."

"Perfect," Danny can't help but grin at her.

Chapter Four:

Leaving Five-O's Headquarters, Kris walks back out to her Jeep, wondering how in the heck she just managed to get involved with helping the Governor's Special Task Force. During the thirty minute drive back to Ko'Olau Ranch (named for the Island mountain range it adjoins), she begins formulating plans. By the time she enters the gate, she's come up with a cover for her and Danny, even a way to explain Steve's presence at the rental house, as she's sure he'll be a frequent visitor.

She parks the Jeep in front of a sprawling white two-story house, with wide front porch (with white climbing roses going up the porch posts and covering the railings). The porch is occupied by a swing, several comfortable wicker chairs (with blue and white floral print cushions), a wicker table that seats four, and high ceiling fans to stir the air—which smells of flowers and the nearby ocean. There's even a table-top propane grill on a small table. Instead of a front lawn, there's a small parking area (a large Ford truck is there), then a large paddock with a couple of horses.

Two Golden Retrievers get up from where they're lying on the top steps of the porch, watching the world go by, and greet her with wagging tails. Kelly (the darker of the two) was rescued from the Honolulu Animal Shelter. Dusty, the lighter of the two, she found when she responded to an advertisement in the paper for someone looking to get rid of their dog before moving back to the Mainland. Both dogs quickly adjusted to living on the ranch: joining her on long trail rides through the nearby State Park (including a horseback camping trip to Molokai a year ago) and at shows, swimming in the ocean and walks on the beach, and going to various places with her.

Kris bends to love on the two dogs as Margo (half white/half Chinese) Kelly comes out of the front door. She smiles warmly at the cute young woman that she has

come to regard as another daughter, rather than an employer. She first came to work for

her two years ago, when her husband suggested her for the position as housekeeper. She's paid well and the money is good for the work she does, plus the hours are her own.

Kris looks up, "Steve McGarrett and Danny Williams are coming for supper at six. I'm thinking honey/lime grilled chicken breasts, steamed rice, and sliced tomatoes."

"I'd already taken the chicken out of the freezer, so I could make salad, so that's fine. I took out three large ones."

"I think we'll eat out here on the porch, since the weather's nice."

"Sounds great."

Going into the spacious kitchen (painted a brilliant white, with pale blue trim), Kris fixes a marinade of wildflower honey (from one of the other islands), brown sugar, lime juice, and soy sauce. The boneless skinless chicken breasts are set in the sauce, then covered with foil and tucked into the fridge to soak. Going out into the kitchen garden, she picks several tomatoes and brings them inside. The rice steamer is set up for later. Lunch is a ham and cheese sandwich, with a salad, eaten on the front porch. Iced tea is set to brew then.

The tomatoes are expertly peeled by putting a pot of water on to boil, tiny X's cut into the bottom, then plunging them into the boiling water for a few seconds until the skin loosens. They are removed with spoon and plunged into ice water to stop the cooking. The skins are then easily removed, then the tomatoes set onto paper towels to drain for a bit.

Kris spends the afternoon giving a couple of lessons, then about four, goes inside and takes a quick shower (towel drying her hair, then brushing it into satiny smoothness) and changes into something a bit dressier. By five-thirty, the chicken is sizzling on the little grill, the rice is steaming, and the tomatoes have been sliced and sprinkled with Hawaiian sea salt. The tea has been poured and sweetened, with lemons and limes cut in wedges (she prefers lime herself), along with freshly picked mint, in a little bowl that matches the table setting.

The white wicker table on the front porch has been set with pretty blue and white china in a sea-shell pattern (a housewarming gift from her maternal grandmother) with matching sterling flatware. Waterford crystal glasses are on a little cart next to the table, with a bucket waiting for ice.

Chapter Five:

Having taken the time to change out of their work clothes (in Danny's case, khaki slacks and a navy blue and white print Hawaiian shirt, Steve—black slacks and a white and red print shirt), the two drive out to the ranch in Steve's Mercury (after having stopped at a local bakery there in downtown Honolulu).

"Why did you pick Kris," Danny asks his boss/best friend, "There's several women on the HPD that would've been more than willing to work with us, just for the experience."

"I know, but there was just something about her that struck me when I met her at the DA's office. Something that I liked. When this case came across my desk, I called Richard and asked about her. He told me she's one hell of an investigator, even without any formal training, willing to go the extra mile for a victim. She is also intelligent, soft-spoken,. . ."

"And not intimidated by you," Danny finishes with a chuckle.

"There is that," Steve laughs as they reach a nice white post and rail fence, surrounding a lush pasture, where black cattle graze serenely. "But there was something about her—that I've only felt once before."

"With who," Danny asks, curious.

"You," Steve takes his eyes off the gravel driveway to glance over at his closest friend, "I was right then, and I think I'm right now. The first time I set eyes on you, I knew you were someone I could trust and depend on."

"Funny, the first time I met you, you scared the hell out of me, but my gut told me that you would be someone I could work with. Never expected us to become good friends though," Danny comments thoughtfully.

"I didn't either. Certainly didn't expect you to become such a part of my life."

Steve parks the car in a small parking area that separates the house from a large paddock where two horses (a large black and a smaller dapple-gray) graze peacefully, shaded by a large tree of some kind.

Chapter Six:

Kris comes down the steps to greet the two men warmly. She changed into a gauzy white linen dress, accenting her slender figure, trimmed with blue flowers and a matching ribbon at her waist, and left her hair flowing to her slender shoulders in soft waves. "Welcome to the Funny Farm," she smiles as she takes the box Steve hands her, "Did you have a problem finding the place?"

"Not at all. You've got a beautiful place here," Steve comments, studying his surroundings with a keen eye.

"Thank you. The house was built in the late 1800's as a get-a-way for a well-to-do haole family from Honolulu. The barn," she nods towards a nearby white-washed—

with pale blue trim-barn, consisting of a dozen stalls, "is original as well. I've even got the carriage they imported from the Mainland, which was actually built not to far from Dad's hometown. I've also restored the kitchen garden. Come on and make yourselves comfortable."

The men are greeted by the two Goldens, who then sprawl out on mats on the wooden floor. Margo comes out, carrying a bucket of ice, and is introduced to the two men as Kris checks the chicken, making sure it is cooked through. "Would you like some iced tea," she asks, putting ice in the tall glasses.

"I'd love it," Danny smiles, accepting the glass and adding a lemon wedge. Taking a sip, he finds it perfectly sweetened.

Steve also finds the tea perfect, "This is good."

"Thank you. I grew up in a Southern family, so sweet tea is something I live off of—especially here. And I like a little tea with my ice," Kris smiles as she adds a sprig of freshly picked mint and lime wedge to her own glass.

Steve, a somewhat finicky eater, has to admit the grilled chicken is excellent, along with the steamed rice (seasoned with fresh ginger and lemon-grass). The tomatoes (Black Krim, Cherokee Purple, Caspian Pink, Hillbilly, Kentucky Beefsteak, Lillian's Yellow Heirloom, Old German, Omar's Lebanese, and Pineapple) are an unusual treat for the two men—being less acidic than those they're used to. The fruit tart (pineapple and mango) is the perfect ending to the meal. Talk is light and easy, centering on the different cases they are working on, and life on the Island.

"Okay, I've done some thinking," Kris starts the conversation, "Our cover is going to be newlyweds, just moved to the Island—right?"

Steve nods, "The house you'll be using belongs to a retired cop that rents it out. It's right next door to our perp."

"My idea is fairly simple: Danny's cover to be that he's just taken a job with the Governor as a press spokesman. Mine, I'm the new resident trainer here. That way, there's reasonable excuses for both of us to be gone during the day."

"Makes sense," Danny agrees.

"And on the weekends," Steve asks.

"That's the advantage to working for myself—I set my own hours. I have the State Horse Show coming up the end of April at the Ag Center. I'll be doing breed demos with Storm and Duchess, my palomino Morgan mare. Plus I'm going to be showing a couple of horses as well, so that will explain why I'm gone most of the day. I need to be training horses to get them ready."

"How are we going to explain your presence," Danny asks Steve.

Kris jumps in, "Easy—he's your uncle. Part of the reason we 'moved' here. Unless you've got family here that could interfere?"

"My parents were killed at Pearl Harbor. After the war, during which I lived with a Hawaiian family, my Aunt Clara, who lives in New York, came and claimed me. I lived with her for a while, but returned to finish school here, living with my foster family again. She visits about once a year, usually during Christmas."

"I'm a Navy brat, born at Pearl. My father is a physician at Kings Bay Submarine Base back in Georgia," Kris informs him.

"You two need to go to Town and Country Jewelry Store in the morning and pick out wedding rings. We've dealt with Mr. Montague before, so he's agreed to help us out this time," Steve tells them.

Chapter Seven:

Kris sets her napkin down, "How about a quick tour? Do either of you ride?"

"I love to ride," Danny smiles.

"It's been at least since I was teenager," Steve admits as he stands, allowing the younger man to link his arm through hers, then following them down the wide wooden steps. The two Golden Retrievers follow them, tails wagging the whole time.

"Kelly is the lighter of the two, Dusty the darker," Kris explains as she leads the way over to the large paddock in front of the house.

The two horses leave their grazing on the lush grass to wander over to greet their owner, sticking out their noses to accept the carrots she gives them. The small dapple gray is an obviously pregnant mare. The larger black is a pretty stallion with a star and four stockings. "Meet Storm and Dixie," Kris explains, "Storm is a seventeen hand black stallion. Dixie a fifteen hand dapple gray mare. She's about a month away from foaling."

"Beautiful animals," Steve comments.

"Storm's registered name is Storm Cloud, since he was born right after a severe thunderstorm blew through the area where he was born, back in Georgia. He was a National Champion in both Western Pleasure, Trail, and Pleasure Driving. Dixie's name is Ozark Mountain Beauty. She was never shown due to an injury, but was used quite a bit for trail riding, which is mostly what I do, and Fox Trotters excel in that."

"Why Fox Trotters," Danny asks, curious about why she would pick something so unusual, rather than Quarter Horses, Arabians, or even Thoroughbreds.

"No bounce. They have a gait in which they walk with their forefeet and trot with their hind, which is very smooth and means no posting. It's very comfortable for riding long distances over difficult terrain. I often ride into the mountains, exploring. DNR told me if I come up on any wild hogs, take care of them since they're so dangerous. Storm's used to gunfire and doesn't flinch. The Quarter Horse and Fox Trotter geldings are also well trained and used to gunfire."

Kris then shows the two men the rest of the farm, pointing out the palomino Morgan mare she'll be giving a breed demo on at the State Show, along with the pretty little blood bay Arabian mare she'll be showing in Country Pleasure and Side Saddle,

and the black mare she'll be showing in Junior Western Pleasure and Trail. She also takes them through her kitchen garden, where she grows lots of different heirloom flowers and vegetables. They meet Mik as well.

"You've got a wonderful place," Steve tells her as they walk back to the car.

"I'm proud of it. It wasn't in to bad of shape when I bought it—did some remodeling in that I created two bathrooms upstairs, where there was only one, and made the housekeeper's room into a downstairs guest room with its own bath. And did some landscaping around the house—using a lot of plants that would've been here when it was first built, as well as native plants. Experimenting with plants has been interesting. I've also built a kitchen garden. Luckily, as you tasted—tomatoes thrive here. I've got green and sugar snap beans, and snow peas started as well. Some of the things common in the South simply won't grow here, but other things will grow year round—like tomatoes, peppers, garlic, various herbs, and lemon-grass. I'm also working with medicinal plants used by the native Hawaiians, in conjunction with the AG Department."

"Do you cook," Danny asks, wondering if they'll be eating out a lot.

Kris can't help but smile at him, "Yes—I cook. You'll have to tell me what you like. I can do Southern, German, Italian, and Mexican. I use a lot of vegetables, plus I've got some things in the freezer. You'll have to tell me what you do and don't like."

"Chinese," Danny asks, hopefully.

Kris shakes her head, "Sorry, but that's above me. But there's always Ming's."

Steve can't help but chuckle. Danny absolutely loves Chinese, and it's often what they have delivered when working late in the office. "Dinner was great," he tells the young woman.

"Glad y'all enjoyed it," Kris smiles up at him, her eyes twinkling merrily. She's already decided that she likes the older man, which will make things easier. He reminds her of her father, but with a subtle difference—he has a softer side, that she's seen with Danny, something her father seldom shows except to his family.

"I'll pick you up about nine in the morning," Danny tells her, "We'll get this show on the road."

"Sounds great. How should I dress?"

"Island casual. I think we'll go with your idea of Danny working for the Governor, which will explain his presence at the Palace, if something comes up," Steve decides, "The only problem would be if Alex has seen his picture in the paper."

"I don't think that'll be a problem, since he's probably not the type to read a paper."

"We'll go get the rings, then play newlyweds and look at the house."

"Is the house furnished? We can run to Ala Moana and pick up some odds and ends, then get groceries," Kris offers.

"It is. Just keep your receipts and you'll be reimbursed. Pack enough clothes for a few days. You'll be able to come home and get anything you need."

"An overnight bag and a suitcase," Kris decides.

Which Danny agrees with, "Nothing to fancy, since your cover is what you really do."

"I can always say I leave my boots and riding clothes here on the ranch."

Danny gives Kris a quick kiss goodnight, "Just getting into practice," he grins at her laugh.

"Get out of here," she giggles, giving him a gentle shove, to Steve's amusement, "I'll see you in the morning."

Chapter Eight:

"What do you think," Steve asks as they drive back to Honolulu.

"I really like her," Danny admits with a warm smile.

"I can tell."

Danny looks out the window at the passing scenery, "I swore I'd never get involved with another woman again, at least not seriously. Because it hurt so much"

Steve looks at him, "Danny", the fact that he's calling him by name, not his nick-name, causes the younger man to look at him curiously, "Don't do what I've done. I don't regret much, but I do regret not having a special someone in my life. I let first the Navy, then Five-O, take over my life. I'll be the first to admit that it's takes a special girl to handle being a cop's girlfriend, let alone you, but Kris—she's different."

"I know, and that's what scares me. Kris is outgoing, has a terrific sense of humor, she's a lady—in the truest sense of the word. And she's a stunning woman, physically. I'm drawn to her, despite having just met her."

Steve gives Danny his best fatherly advice, "Take it slowly, get to know her over the next few days." She may just turn out to be just what Danno needs, he thinks but doesn't say, not wanting to overwhelm his closest friend, just plant the seeds, for future consideration.

"What do you think of her," Danny wants to know.

"I like her. And if things work out, I may even offer her a position with us—doing the same kind of job that she does with the DA. Sometimes, we could use a woman's touch on our cases. We've both seen cases where having a woman to talk to would've helped in getting statements from either the witnesses or victims. When you have time—take her to the pistol range and see how she does," Steve reminds him.

Chapter Nine:

Watching the car leave, Kris muses about the events of the day. She desperately wants to call her best friend, but Gail's back in Georgia and wouldn't appreciate being awakened so early in the morning. She has to admit, the assignment seems like it will

be a challenge, but that is what she thrives on: why she moved back to Hawaii, away

from her large extended family (her mother's in particular has a tendency to be somewhat overbearing), why she went with an unusual breed of horse to raise, and why she took the job with the DA's office.

Then again, there's Danny. She smiles, thinking of the detective. If asked, she would've said her type was tall and dark-haired (more like Steve), but there's just some-thing about him she really likes, and already enjoys his company. He's a genuinely nice guy, with a great sense of humor, and the most amazing blue eyes. She's already looking forward to getting to know him better.

And Steve, she likes him as well—in a different way. Though he could easily intimidate her, he doesn't, Guess that comes from growing up with a father in the Navy. And she can sense a kind, caring, man beneath the tough outer shell he projects to the world. Not to mention the fact that she'll learn a lot from him.

Margo comes out onto the front porch to refill Kris' glass, "Well?"

"They love the place," Kris tells her, "And I guess I need to tell you, I'll be going undercover with Danny to help bring down the guy behind these recent attacks on Native Hawaiians and others."

"Sounds dangerous," the older woman comments.

"I'll be very careful, you know that. Anyway, Danny will be picking me up first thing in the morning to get things rolling. I need to pack my garment and overnight bags and suitcase with enough for a few days. My cover is that I'm the new resident trainer here, so I'll be here during the day."

"And Danny?"

"He's going to be working for the Governor, so that will explain his presence at the Palace. We'll be posing as newlyweds, living in the house next to the guy."

Kris spends the evening watching the news as she packs—mainly casual Island-type clothing. Last thing she adds is her make-up bag (she really doesn't like to wear much, but figures it will help with her cover as the wife of the Governor's new aide).

Danny also spends the evening packing: mainly work clothes, but also a few more casual things (like for going out to dinner). He finds himself looking forward to the next few days, getting to know first the girl that has really attracted his attention, since Jane's death.

Chapter Ten:

Promptly at eight-thirty, Danny's little white Mustang pulls up in front of the house. Kris, having heard the car, steps out onto the porch and motions for him to come in, "Come on and get a cup of coffee. Have you had breakfast yet? Margo makes a terrific omelet."

"Yes, but I'd love some coffee," Danny smiles, walking up the steps and into the living room he saw last night. Margo hands him a cup, which he then fixes to his taste.

He sips it as he studies the young woman. She's dressed in white linen slacks and a

royal blue polo shirt, tucked in to accent her slender waist. Her face is bare of make-up,

but has the naturally healthy glow that really doesn't need any. Her hair is up in a pony-tail, which has natural curl to it. Her jewelry is the same things she wore yesterday. "You look nice," he tells her, causing her to blush furiously.

"Mahalo, so do you," and he does: khaki slacks and a teal blue and white Hawaiian print shirt, with loafers. She's always liked a man in khakis.

Danny finds himself pleased by her compliment, "Since we're newlyweds looking at the house, I figured I could dress down a bit."

"Works for me," Kris laughs as she finishes her Tab—she doesn't drink coffee, so she gets her caffeine from sodas.

Danny hands Margo a piece of paper with a couple of phone numbers written on it, "The phone at the house is connected, so here's the number, and the office number in case you need to get in touch with us."

"I'll post this on the bulletin board," Margo promises.

"I keep all my important numbers typed and on the board next to my desk, so they're handy when I need them," Kris explains.

"I have a Rolodex myself," Danny laughs.

"But you probably have to keep track of more numbers than I do. This is just the easiest way for me." She throws her can into the trash, "Ready to get this show on the road?"

"Whenever you are," Danny smiles. He picks up a large black nylon suitcase, while she grabs her matching overnight bag. She pulls on her silver-framed aviator sunglasses as they walk out to the Mustang.

"Nice car," she comments as her bags are stowed in the trunk and backseat, next to his own.

"Five-O prefers something a bit more sedate, but this baby is something I bought myself when I celebrated my one year anniversary of working with Steve," Danny explains as he pulls on his own gold-framed sunglasses. He grins over at her, "I felt like I deserved it after surviving that first year."

"I like it, suits you," Kris smiles, "Just wouldn't be to practical for me—hauling around two Goldens and horses. My Jeep and truck work fine."

"Our first stop is Montague's, to pick up the rings," Danny explains as he drives back towards Honolulu, "Then the house. Steve also wants me to take you to the gun range. Probably tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

Town and Country Jewels is a small jewelry store located near the Palace, owned by a second generation Frenchman. The short, older, gray-haired, owner greets them warmly, "Detective Williams—welcome! Mr. McGarrett called yesterday and asked that I assist you with this matter." He turns his eyes to the young lady with him, "You are enchanting! So beautiful!"

Kris blushes, "Thank you."

"Ah, a blushing bride—so rare today," Mr. Montague smiles, then turns back to Danny and remove a tray of women's rings from the cabinet. It takes only a few minutes for her to select an oval-cut pale blue topaz, surrounded by tiny pear-cut diamonds, engagement ring, set in white gold, and a plain white gold wedding band. Another tray is brought out of men's rings, from which he selects a simple gold band.

"You have excellent taste, my dear," Mr. Montague tells her.

"I'll take good care of them," Kris promises.

"I am not worried. After Mr. McGarrett and this young man helped me, anything I can do to assist them, I am willing to do."

"Why blue topaz," Danny asks as they leave the store.

"It's my favorite stone," Kris explains, "Though I inherited a set of sapphires and some diamonds from my maternal grandmother. I usually wear my blue topaz, that my mother gave me for my sixteenth birthday."

"That's my birthstone. I was born December eighth. Steve's is the twenty-sixth."

"I always loved it because it's the color of the ocean off the Islands in calm weather," Kris tells him, "The ocean off of the Georgia Coast doesn't begin to compare."

"What's your birthstone?"
"Diamond. My birthday is coming up here shortly, on the twenty-second of April. I've got a few diamond and pearl pieces that I inherited or was given."

"We'll have to do something special—maybe a nice dinner," Danny decides, causing Kris to smile at him as he guides the car to a small, older neighborhood of neatly kept houses on small lots. He pulls into the driveway of a small white house, trimmed in dark blue, then puts the car into park, "Well—this is it, Honey."

Kris raises a curious eyebrow as she notices someone sitting on the front porch of the house next door, "Oh it's just perfect, Danny!" She leans forward and kisses him gently on the cheek, whispering, "We've got an audience." She then sits back, "Let's go in and get unpacked."

Getting out, they walk up the steps and on the pretext of opening the door, look around. Alex Hill, a short, stocky built man with red-hair, is sitting on the front steps of his house, a beer in hand, watching every move they make with interest. Kris smiles at Danny, "It's perfect until we can buy a house on the beach! Plus it's convenient to both our jobs."

"That's what Uncle Steve thought," Danny tells her as he gets the door open, "Go on in and I'll get our luggage."

"Sounds good," she answers as she walks in into the small living room, which is about a third the size of the one at home. To her relief, there are two bedrooms, sharing

a bath, both furnished. The furniture is obviously old and well-worn, but will suffice. The kitchen is tiny, but has a fridge and working stove, along with a small table and chairs, overlooking a tiny backyard.

"What do you think," Danny asks as he carries in her luggage.

"I'm glad I won't be staying here long, it's so small. And there are two bedrooms, I was wondering about that. Let's get unpacked, then go to Ala Moana and the grocery store to get a few things we need."

"Our suspect was giving me the stink eye while I was getting our things out. I waved to him and he just took another drink," Danny tells Kris before going back out to get his things.

"Not surprising. I'll stay home tomorrow and see what I can do about making friends with the neighbors."

Going back out to the car, Danny is greeted by a tiny gray-haired woman in a colorful muumuu, "Welcome to the neighborhood. I saw you arrive and thought I'd introduce myself. I'm Mrs. Elizabeth Wyndom, your neighbor across the street." She nods towards a small yellow house.

"Danny Williams, my wife is Kris. We've just arrived from the Mainland," he answers with a smile, knowing that gaining the woman's trust is important.

"Oh really? Where are you from?"

"My wife is from here, originally, but went to school back in Georgia. I lived in New York, but was born here," Danny explains patiently, keeping close to their real-life, "Would you like to meet her?"

"Of course, I'd love to."

Kris looks up when Danny comes in with the elderly woman. She greets her husband with an affectionate kiss, "I see you just met our neighbor."

Mrs. Wyndom sighs at the sight of the attractive young couple, "Oh—to be young again. How long have you two been married?"

"Two weeks. We got married back in Georgia, with my family, but Danny's got a job working for the Governor, plus has an uncle living here, so here we are," Kris explains with a smile, then extends her hand, subtly showing off her rings, "I'm Kris Williams."

"I'm Elizabeth Wyndom," the older woman introduces herself, "My husband, William, is retired from the Navy. We loved it when we lived here before, so we came back two years ago and bought our little place in Paradise."

"My father's in the Navy. And Danny's uncle is in the Reserves," Kris tells her as Danny carries his clothing into the spare bedroom. Mrs. Wyndom watches curiously,

then looks at Kris for an explanation, which she provides, "Our closet is so small, so

there's additional closet space in the spare bedroom. We'll be doing some shopping later, getting more into the Island life style."

"I'll let you get on with unpacking," Mrs. Wyndom smiles, heading back to the door, "Come over tomorrow and we'll talk story. I'll introduce you to the other neighborhood wives as well."

"Sounds great. I don't have to start my job for a day or two."

"Oh really? What do you do?"

"I'll be the resident trainer/instructor at Ko'Olau Ranch—working with Missouri Fox Trotters, and eventually Morgans as well."

"How interesting!"

"I went to college with the owner, and she's back on the Mainland, so it works out for both of us."

Danny comes out as Mrs. Wyndom leaves, "Well?"

"She bought it. She wants me to go over tomorrow for coffee and to meet the other women."

"Terrific, good first step. Let me call Steve and let him know that we're here, then we'll go shopping."

"Sounds great."

At the Ala Moana Shopping Center, Kris goes into Watanabes (a small department-type store) and buys a small coffee maker and mugs (the house came with pots and pans); along with a casual dinnerware set, glasses, and silverware for four people; towels, washrags, and sheets for the beds; along with some fresh reading material from a nearby bookstore. Then at the grocery store, they buy coffee, sodas, tea bags, sandwich fixings, and other staples.

Returning to the house, they find Alex still sitting on the porch, with yet another beer in his hand. There's no mistaking his interest as they get out. "He looks about three sheets to the wind," Kris comments softly as they start bringing in bags.

"If he's an alcoholic, he has a high tolerance," Danny muses.

"Wonder where Linda is," she muses.

"No telling."

While Kris is organizing the kitchen, Danny makes the beds.

Chapter Eleven:

"I was wondering how we were going to handle the bed situation," Kris tells Danny as he returns to the kitchen.

"The thought did cross my mind," he admits.

Kris nods, grateful for the understanding, "Thank you. How about I fix some iced tea?"

"Sounds great, I love your iced tea."

Kris moves into the tiny kitchen and puts the tea on to brew, then sits down at the little kitchen table, "So—what is on your agenda for tomorrow?"

Danny takes the seat across from her, "I need to go in for a while and take care of some paperwork from a case we just wrapped up. Then tomorrow afternoon, take you to the pistol range."

Kris nods, "What's the qualifying score?"

"For us, ninety percent. Fortunately, there's never been a problem with anyone meeting that score. If there were, he'd be given another chance."

"Even higher than the FBI."

"Steve's a stickler for accuracy. But he doesn't expect you to be that good. If you can score about seventy, he'll be happy."

"I brought my thirty-two."

"Excellent. I was trained as a sniper myself by the HPD. Ever shot anyone?"

"Yes, I have."

Danny's blue eyes become wide, "When? How?"

"When I was fourteen, my step grandfather tried to rape me. I wasn't about to let that happen, so I got his gun away from him and shot him."

"Why did he-"

Kris shakes her head, "I'm not sure. I was staying with my aunt during summer vacation and he broke in—with a gun in his hand, thinking that would keep me from making a racket. I ripped off his mask and was able to ID him before he got away."

"What happened to him?"

"My father beat him to within an inch of his life, when he caught up with him at my grandmother's house, then called the Sheriff—who happened to be a school buddy. He was charged with breaking and entering and attempted rape. He was sentenced to Reidsville, the most notorious prison in the state, for twenty years. My grandmother divorced him while he was awaiting trial. He never did say why. Sort of clammed up and wouldn't answer any questions. Still hasn't, as far as I know."

"And it changed the course of your life," Danny guesses.

"Yep. I decided right then that I wanted to work with the victims of violent crime." Kris laughs, "Course I never expected to be going undercover with Five-O."

"I'm glad you did," Danny reaches across the table to take her hand, tracing the delicate veins in her wrist.

"Me too. If nothing else, I'll learn from working with you two."

Chapter Twelve:

Recognition dawns as the couple moving into the house gets out of the Mustang. Taking a swig of his beer, Alex focuses bleary eyes on the blond woman as she kisses the man with her. His hands tighten on the bottle. The little bitch! Always thought she was better than everyone! Never even looked my way! Now look at her—all grown up! Damn-she's hot!, he thinks morosely.

Linda, a small pear-shaped blond with green eyes, comes out onto the front porch and hesitantly approaches her husband, scared to disturb him, "Dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Whatever," Alex snaps, watching as old lady Wyndom goes scooting across to talk to the man. Wonder who the hell that guy is?

"We've got new neighbors," she comments softly, watching as their neighbor follows the man inside.

"Yeah, that bitch from high school—Kris Morrow!"

Linda hesitates to speak, fearing Alex's temper, "She was always nice to me."

"Wonder why the hell she's moved here," Alex muses, despite the alcohol. He takes another swig of his beer, trying to formulate a drunken plan to get what he missed out on all those years ago. He looks up at his wife, pleased at the fear he sees in her eyes, "Go back inside and take off your clothes."

Linda realizes what he wants and goes back inside. Maybe she can help me get away from him, she hopes.

Chapter Thirteen:

The ringing of the phone interrupts their conversation about their childhood. "Ten to one it's Steve," Danny sighs as Kris catches it on the second, smiling back at him.

"Williams residence."

"You sound nice and professional," Steve can't help but smile, even through the phone, "All settled in?"

"Just making plans. Here, I'll let you talk to Danny."

Danny takes the receiver, "Hey Boss."

"I'm bringing dinner. Ask Kris if she likes Italian."

Danny turns to Kris, "Steve wants to know if you like Italian."

"Sure. Just no olives or onions."

Steve chuckles, overhearing her comment, "Lady after my own heart. Be there in an hour."

"We'll be here."

Kris stands to set the table with a casual set of plates she bought at Watanabes—in blue and white floral print. The little tablecloth is a plain white linen and the flatware a simple floral design. The glasses are a pretty cobalt blue. "I never thought much about

what goes into setting up a house," Danny comments thoughtfully as she sets the table, "When I got my first apartment, Tutu, my Hawaiian foster mother, along with one of my foster sisters-Leilani, simply went shopping and bought what I needed, then put things where they thought it should be. Leilani is now a florist and has her own little shop."

"When I moved back, I sort of channeled my grandmothers in setting up my new home. My mom wasn't happy about my returning, so she didn't come and help with things—totally on my own, except for Margo." She sits back down, "Tell me about your aunt."

"When my parents were killed, I was three years old. I was placed in foster care, with a Hawaiian family, the Kulani's, until after the War. She took me back to New York with her," Danny looks down at his hands, which Kris covers with hers,

giving them a gentle squeeze, "I lived her life for a while—great private school, with her friends from music and the theater, plus travel. It was nice and all, but I was miserable and begged her to let me return here to attend high school, ended up living with the Kulani's again. After a year at the University of Hawaii, I transferred to Berkley to finish my degree in Criminal Justice. I did a stint in the Coast Guard for a while after college. Then came home, and HPD gave me training as a sniper and in bomb disposal. Did a lot of undercover work at first, since I look younger than I am."

"How did you come to work for Steve?"

"I first met Steve when I graduated top of my class from the Academy, presented me with the Top Cadet award, and he kept an eye on me as I went from undercover cop to detective. He tapped me for Five-O right before I turned twenty-eight, after I made detective at twenty-five. And caught a bunch of flak for it, since I was so young—lot of other, more experienced, detectives were angling for the open slot. Even more when he made me his Second, within a year—over Chin and Kono. They, of course, had no problem with my being his Second, are behind me one hundred percent—they didn't want the added responsibility and hours. Besides, we're all friends—which helps. That first year was hard, he's difficult to work with—stubborn, dedicated, determined. . . There was a time or two I almost quit because we butted heads a few times. But I took his own advice and stuck with him."

"I can imagine."

"But he trusted me, had more faith in me than I did in myself. I admit, I've learned a lot from him. Like to trust my own instincts when it comes to a crime and not to back down. Sometimes though—it's hard to explain."

Kris gives Danny's hands a gentle squeeze, sensing he's never really talked about this with anyone. He takes a deep breath, realizing that she's probably the one person he can trust, "I know that he's my boss, but it's more than that. There's been times when I've been hurt, and only reason I'm still alive is because he wouldn't let me go, giving me

a reason to hang on, helping me fight back from the abyss. If I'm in the hospital, his face always is the first one I see when I open my eyes. He never leaves until he knows

I'm alright. Can't tell you the nights he's spent at my bedside, holding my hand, keeping

me calm and from fighting the tubes and all. Doc can't run him out. And I usually stay with him while I'm recovering."

"It goes both ways, doesn't it," she asks softly.

"Yeah, it does. I'd go through hell if it meant keeping him safe," Danny admits, "Come to think of it, I have gone through hell. If he's hurt, I won't leave his side until I know he's alright, until he's awake and talking. We've sat by each other's bedside more times than either of us can count. When he goes home, I stay with him until he's able to be on his own again. Plus, Jenny is in and out, along with Chin's wife and Kono's family. They're great about bringing meals and helping with any house work. Five-0 is its own little close-knit Ohana."

"Does he have any family?"

"Just a sister, Mary, who lives in Los Angeles, with her husband Tom. Their infant son died a few years ago of cancer, less than a year old. It really tore him apart. Only time I've seen him cry," he admits, "Because neither of us has any family, Doctor Bergman, who is our private doctor, knows to call the other if anything happens and the other isn't there, which has happened a few times."

"Isn't Bergman the Coroner?"

"Yeah, he is. But somehow, he became Five-O's doctor. You'll like him, he's a nice guy, a bit tough, but nice. His wife, Doris, is really sweet. She often helps him out, and us as well, once we're home by bringing food and doing bandage changes, since she's a Registered Nurse at Queens and works in the ER."

"I took the course to become an Emergency Medical Technician while I was in college. It was offered at the local tech school one summer, and with all the traveling I do, Dad thought it was a good idea. I passed with flying colors."

Danny's once again amazed, "Wow!"

"Since I was traveling to shows and all, Dad told me I needed to take it. Mom was hoping I'd get interested in medicine and change majors."

"Didn't work though, did it?"

Kris shakes her blond head, "Nah—I like what I'm doing. And I was determined to come back to the Island. Now, I'm glad I did."

"Me too," Danny gives her hands a quick squeeze in return, then changes the subject, "Look—being a cop, especially with Five-O, means that my life is at risk—if you can't-"

Kris stops him, "I know what you're fixing to say about being a cop's girlfriend. I won't deny that I'll worry, but I accept the risks. I know you're careful, but you also have a job to do. Keeping busy will help. Then again, some say riding horseback is dangerous."

Chapter Fourteen:

The sound of a car in the driveway interrupts the lighter conversation, centering on books recently read (both are avid readers) and movies seen. Danny goes to the door to see Steve getting out of his car, still in his suit, but minus his tie. They both notice Alex back on the porch, with yet another beer in his hand, staring at them.

"Come on in, Uncle Steve," the younger man calls, going down the steps to greet the older man. "Alex is on the porch," he whispers as he takes one of the bags. Then, a bit louder, "We're about settled in."

"Great. I'm looking forward to seeing Kris again," Steve says, just loud enough to be heard, but without looking at their suspect.

Alex scowls as he sips his beer, watching the two men as they go inside.

Steve takes a slow look around, noticing that the little house looks a lot homier than it did the last time he was here. Kris hands him a tall glass of iced tea, complete with lemon wedge, smiling up at him warmly, "Thanks for bringing dinner. I was planning on sandwiches and chips tonight."

"You saved us from a meal worse than death," Danny jokes as he begins opening the bags to find a big box of seafood alfredo, another of bread sticks, and yet another of salad.

The next few minutes are spent helping plates. Talk centers on the State Attorney General's recently announced retirement, with Steve informing Kris that Walter and Danny got off to a bad start when he questioned his choice of Danny for not only detective, but Second-in-Command. She admits she thinks the guy's a jerk, which both men agree with whole-heartedly.

After dinner, the three retreat to the living room with cups of coffee for the two men. Steve actually finds himself relaxing a bit. Kris, he is starting to discover, is a lot like Danny in the fact that she's easy to talk to, plus has a terrific sense of humor. He drags himself back to the conversation, "So—have you two met your neighbors yet?"

"The lady across the street introduced herself as we were unpacking. Alex was giving us the stink eye the whole time," Danny answers.

"You think he recognized you," Steve asks Kris.

Kris shrugs, "Hard to tell. He looked to be about three sheets to the wind when we pulled up. Mrs. Wyndom invited me over for coffee in the morning, to meet the other neighbors and talk story."

"Sounds like a good start."

"I'll do a little digging, tomorrow, see what I can learn," Kris tells them.

Chapter Fifteen:

Kris is startled out of a sound sleep by what sounds like crying. Sitting straight up in bed, it takes her brain a minute to clear from whatever she'd been dreaming. She glances at the alarm clock on her nightstand, finding it is about two in the morning. She pulls on the robe lying across the foot of the bed, slipping it on over her knee-length royal blue cotton t-shirt. Without flipping on the light, she makes her way out of the bedroom and to the other one on silent feet.

Pushing the door open, she finds the room dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the open curtains. It takes her eyes a minute to adjust before she can clearly see Danny curled up under the covers, obviously in the grips of a nightmare. She moves to sit on the side of the bed next to his hip, speaking softly so as not to startle him to badly. When there's no reaction, she places a gentle hand on his shoulder, her voice soft as she shakes him lightly, "Danny—wake up, Honey."

It takes a moment for the soft voice to penetrate the nightmare, driving away the demons. Danny opens his eyes to find Kris sitting beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. She stands and vanishes, returning in a few seconds with a cup of cool water and a wet washcloth, which she hands him, waiting patiently as he wipes his face then takes a sip of water. "Thanks," he murmurs.

"You're welcome," she smiles softly, "How you feeling?"

"Better," Danny admits, "Sorry I woke you."

"It's okay, I don't sleep well in strange beds anyway." She takes a deep breath, "Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now," Danny looks into a pair of deep blue eyes that are gentle and compassionate. Without thinking, he pulls her into his arms, needing a human touch after such a horrible nightmare. And she comes willingly, allowing him to pull her to his chest. "I just need to hold you," he murmurs, "To feel a warm body next to mine." They lie down, with her head on his shoulder and his arm holding her close. He smells the subtle scent of her shampoo, something delicately floral, and allows the slow rhythm of her breathing to calm his nerves.

The nightmare was pretty bad, but it was nice to have someone come in and wake him, then snuggle with him. She didn't mind, it seems. He glances at the alarm clock on the nightstand, finding it's a bit after two. He drifts back off to sleep, with a gentle kiss to the top of her head, content in her quiet, undemanding company.

The alarm going off at six awakens Kris from a relatively peaceful sleep. It takes a minute for her to realize that she's not in her own bed, but instead has her head resting on Danny's chest, his arm wrapped around her. Then she remembers the nightmare, coming in to check on him, and curling up with him. He stirs next to her, reluctantly awaking. "Sleep better," she asks as she stretches and gets up, turning to look at him.

Danny finds himself a bit embarrassed, even though he's in a white cotton t-shirt and pale blue boxers, "Sorry about waking you-"

Kris puts a gentle hand on his, "It's okay. Nightmares can take a toll sometimes, believe me—I know. Go get your shower and shave while I get breakfast."

Kris changes into shorts and a t-shirt before going into the kitchen and starting coffee for Danny. She turns on the little radio she bought as she hears the shower starting. It was a bit strange, not being awakened in the middle of the night—that's nothing unusual, but falling asleep in a man's arms. Apparently, he was badly rattled by the nightmare. Who's woke him up before, she muses as she beats two eggs in a bowl for an omelet, then adds chopped ham and shredded cheese, I'll bet he's had to suffer alone, unless they happen when he's staying with Steve after an injury. Wonder if he'll tell me what it was about?

As he shaves, then showers, Danny muses about how nice it was to have someone there after the nightmare. He's especially grateful that she allowed him to hold her afterwards. Drifting back off with her in his arms was nice, just having a warm comforting presence was a help to his badly rattled nerves.

Kris looks up in approval as Danny comes into the kitchen. Since it is Spring in Hawaii, he's dressed in a light gray suit, white cotton shirt, and blue and gray silk tie, with his hair combed neatly into place. "You'll have to tell me how you like your coffee," she smiles as she plates the omelet and sets it on the table, with an orange juice glass already waiting.

"Cream and sugar please. Steve drinks his black, and I can't stand it." Danny takes a sip of his juice as she pours his coffee, "Thanks for breakfast. I usually just grab a piece of toast and coffee on my way out the door. Then more coffee at the office."

"I'm spoiled, I guess," Kris comments as she sits down, "Southerners eat breakfast every morning: grits, eggs, bacon, and either biscuit or toast."

"Grits?"

"They're coarsely ground up corn kernels, not meal. Served with butter, salt, red-eye gravy, or cheese. Very comforting on a cold day, sort of like oatmeal or cream of wheat."

"Which we don't have here in Honolulu."

"True. But I can make pretty good Southern-style biscuits." Kris takes a sip of her Tab, "So what's on your agenda for today?"

"Steve likes a morning meeting at eight before we get busy, to go over whatever we're working on and get updates on other things, before we head out for the day."

Kris nods as they listen to the weather report, high of eighty with possible after-noon showers. She stands to refill Danny's cup, "I'll stick around here and do some nosing around. Mrs. Wyndom invited me over, so I'll do that."

"Just be careful. And call the office if you need anything. I'll be back around noon, then we'll go out to the pistol range."

"Sounds like a plan," Kris smiles.

Danny looks up into a pair of concerned blue eyes. He reaches across the table to cover her smaller hands with his, "Thanks for coming to check on me last night."

"You're very welcome. How often do you have them?"

"Not to often. But it was nice to have someone to wake me up, then hold on to, to keep them from coming back. It felt—I don't know—right to have you in my arms this morning," Danny's voice is soft.

"Tell me about it," Kris murmurs, looking down at their intertwined hands. The rings seem to look perfect together. "Who usually wakes you up?"
"No one, unless I happen to be staying with Steve after an accident. Of course, he comes and checks on me during the night. But it's not the same thing as having someone to hold, to snuggle up to, to keep the nightmares away, a reassuring heartbeat in the night, telling me I'm not alone."

Kris is careful to keep her voice low and soft, reassuring, "You're not alone Danny, not anymore."

"I know, and it's nice, knowing that you're here. Don't get me wrong, Steve's great—but he's-"

"A man," Kris supplies helpfully.

Danny can't help but smile at her understanding, "Exactly. It's not like having a warm body in the bed next to me, keeping them away."

"What was the nightmare about," she asks softly.

"The same thing it usually is—my parents' death. My mother's body was apparently vaporized, never recovered, in the fires. My father, his body was never recovered either. I used to dream that they'd survived and would one day come back for me. As I got older and learned more about that day, I realized it's wishful thinking," Danny's voice is soft with pent up emotion. He's never really talked about it until now, until her.

Kris gets up and comes around to kneel beside him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, touching his chin and forcing him to look at her, "I won't tell you that it's okay, because it's not and never will be, for you—a survivor of that horrible day. But I will tell you this—they're looking down on you, and they're incredibly proud of you. A lot of people would've let what happened turn them into a lonely, bitter, hard person. But you, you've turned it to your advantage. You're a wonderfully warm, caring man with a great sense of humor, who's a top notch detective. You've made your way in the world

without using that loss as an excuse for failure, and now work for one of the top law-enforcement agencies in the world—something very few people can claim."

Danny looks into a pair of concerned midnight blue eyes, reaches out to gently stroke her own cheek, then leans forward to kiss her lightly on the lips, causing her to melt against him. He pulls back after a moment, "I—I-"

Kris takes the words right out of his mouth, "Tell me about it. Guess that sort of—confirms it?"

"Yeah, it does. But let's take our time, okay?" Danny reaches out to brush his finger tips across her cheek, "But I'm not going to deny that I'm starting to feel something for you, even though we just met. I think you're absolutely beautiful, wonderful."

"I think you're great too," Kris sighs softly, "And I'm starting to have feelings for you as well."

"We'll talk tonight," Danny promises, "There are some things you should know."

Kris nods as Danny leans in for another kiss, causing her to melt against him as the smell of his aftershave fills her senses. She feels his hand gently stroking her hair, toying with the silky strands, as he deepens the kiss. After a long moment, they reluctantly part.

Chapter Sixteen:

After Danny leaves, Kris spends a few minutes straightening the kitchen, putting dinner in the Crockpot, then makes the beds. Moving to the bathroom, she gets a whiff of his aftershave (Aqua Velva—she determines) before grabbing a shower of her own.

Changing into khaki shorts and a white men's t-shirt, she pulls her hair into a quick braid just as she hears a gentle knock at the front door. Slipping her feet into her sandals, she opens it to admit Mrs. Wyndom, in yet another colorful muumuu, and two other women. "We came to officially welcome you to the neighborhood," the older woman announces.

"Please, come on in," Kris smiles, This is going to be easier than I thought.

The heavy-set native Hawaiian woman hands Kris a small basket of goodies, then turns to hug her, "Welcome to our little corner of Honolulu."

"Thank you. Would you like some coffee? I can put on a fresh pot."

"That would be lovely," the other lady, a tall gray-haired woman in her forties, tells her, setting a gift basket on the sofa.

"This is Mrs. Lila Lukela and Mrs. Catherine Dillon," Mrs. Wyndom makes the introductions.

"Kris Williams, but call me Kris," Kris brings cream and sugar over to the kitchen table while waiting on the coffee to finish.

"What does your husband do," Mrs. Lukela asks as she sits down.

"He just started a job with the Governor's Office, doing Press Work for Jameson."

"What about that man who came over last night," Mrs. Wyndom can't hide her curiosity about the cute young girl.

"Danny's Uncle, Steve MacArthur. He's part of the reason we moved back here. He's his only living relative and wanted to be close to him," Kris explains, "He works for the Governor as well."

"Where you from," the question comes from Mrs. Dillon.

"We were both born here, but left when we were fairly young. When Danny was offered the job, we both jumped at the chance to return."

"Gladys told me you train horses," Mrs. Dillon comments as Kris fills the three coffee cups. She then pours herself a glass of pineapple juice.

"I'm the new trainer/instructor for Ko'Olau Ranch, which raises Missouri Fox Trotters and Morgans, when they get here—they're in quarantine on the mainland right now. I'll be working with the horses and teaching riding. I'll start tomorrow."

"Sounds like a wonderful job," Mrs. Lukela tells them.

"For me—it is. I'll be able to set my own hours and take advantage of the Island life style. I think Danny wants to take up surfing again."

"Do you surf," Mrs. Wyndom asks.

"Not at all. I swim and SCUBA dive, that's it." Kris smiles warmly, "I appreciate you're coming to welcome me. Tell me about the neighborhood."

The three women tell her about the nearby stores, including the restaurants. Then talk turns to their neighbors. Kris expresses her curiosity about the house next door. "Keep away from him," Mrs. Dillon tells her.

"What do you mean?"

"He's pilikia (Hawaiian for trouble)," Mrs. Lukela explains as she sips her coffee, "All he does is sit on his porch and drink until he's plastered. And he's mean too. Just the other day, I saw him haul off and hit his wife for no reason—knocking her to the ground and giving her a black eye. And I've heard yelling several times. When she does come outside, she won't even look at anyone, like she's scared to death."

"Does he work at all?"

"Part time for a nearby garage," Mrs. Dillon adds, "But he stays drunk. His wife is real sweet, but he won't let her have much to do with anyone. I've heard rumors about the guys he hangs around with—how they don't like anyone who isn't white."

"Has anyone ever called the police about the abuse," Kris asks the three women.

"I did—once. And when the cops left, he threatened me," Mrs. Wyndom tells them.

"What happened with the cops?"

"She refused to press charges," the woman answers quietly.

"It figures," Kris mutters, filing the information away for later.

"She's terrified of him. From what we've seen, the man is mean as a snake."

"Picks on someone smaller than himself," Mrs. Lukela comments, "And when she tried to stand up to him, he beats the daylights out of her. She's stuck in a horrible situation."

"Maybe she just needs someone to help her out."

"We're only women, what can we do?"

"It takes only one person to make a difference," Kris reminds the three ladies.

"What will your husband say," Mrs. Dillon wants to know.

Kris can't help but smile, "Danny'd be the first to offer to help."

"How did you first meet," Mrs. Lukela asks, curious about the younger lady.

"We were introduced by his uncle, who is a good friend of my father. We dated a while and fell in love," Kris explains, "Uncle Steve works for the Governor's Press Office, and suggested Danny for the position as his assistant. Eventually, we'd like to get a place on the beach somewhere."

"He seems really sweet," Mrs. Wyndom comments.

"That's an understatement," she smiles.

Kris then opens the gift baskets. One is filled with fresh-baked goodies from a nearby bakery. The other has assorted shower gels and body lotions in tropical scents.

Talk drifts on to the latest news about Honolulu's recently elected mayor being spotted with a woman not his wife at an upscale restaurant.

Once the three women leave, she takes a few minutes to write down what she learned in a handy spiral notebook she picked up at one of the little shops. After what Danny told her about how he and Steve work, including to trust her instincts, she scribbles down her impressions. Then she glances at her watch, finding it's about eleven. Closing the notebook, she drinks another Tab before going and changing clothes into something more suitable for spending an afternoon with Danny.

Chapter Seventeen:

A little before noon, Kris looks up from her newspaper when she hears a car in the driveway. Danny, minus his suit jacket, comes up the steps and into the house. He can't help but greet her with an affectionate kiss to the cheek, "You ready to go? I thought we'd grab lunch, then head to the office and target range." He studies her for a minute, noticing that she changed from shorts and a t-shirt into crisp khaki slacks, a cobalt blue polo shirt, and brown loafers. Her long hair has been pulled back in a scarf that matches her shirt. And her jewelry is the wedding and engagement rings, a matching pendant from her little collection, and a ladies' sports watch. "You look nice," he tells her sincerely.

"Thanks. How was your morning?"

"Busy. You remember that domestic violence/hostage situation last week?"

"Yeah, I saw where you guys were involved."

"The guy committed suicide last night, in jail."

"On no!"
"Tell me about it. We had to make sure it was suicide, not murder."

"Was it?"

"He was in solitary, so definitely. Then Steve and I had to go and tell his wife about his death." Danny doesn't tell Kris that they discussed hiring her as a victim liaison, taking on some of that responsibility.

Kris' compassion for the family shows clearly, "How did she take it?"

"I think she was relieved that it was over, at least for her and the kids."

"Domestic violence is never easy to deal with," Kris comments, "And that's what we're dealing with next door as well."

"Alex?"

Kris tells Danny about the welcome visit from the three neighboring women and what she learned. "Did you write all this down," Danny asks when she finishes.

She taps the notebook on the table, "It's all written down, including my thoughts on what I learned."

"We'll make a detective out of you yet," Danny grins as he skims through what she wrote down.

"Yeah, right," Kris smirks back.

"Let's go get lunch, then we'll go tell Steve what you discovered."

"I want to go out to the farm and check on things, then get my Jeep so I won't have to rely on you to get where I need to go."

Chapter Eighteen:

After a quick lunch at Danny's favorite Chinese place, they head for the Palace. They find Steve in his office, reading over a report on the unexpected death of a wanted Communist terrorist in Los Angeles at the hands of an armed robbery suspect. He looks up when his closest friend comes in, with the newest member of the Five-O Ohana—a hand at her waist, gently guiding her in front of him. He can't help but smile to himself: she looks perfectly at ease as she sits down in the same chair she used a couple of days ago.

As usual, Danny perches on the edge of his desk next to him. "I had a visit from the neighborhood welcoming committee after Danny left," Kris explains, "Gladys Wyndom, married to a retired Naval Officer who volunteers at the Arizona Memorial and Punchbowl. Lila Lukela, widow of a HPD officer killed in the line of duty and mother of Officer Duke Lukela. And Catherine Dillon, widow of a Naval Petty Officer. They brought me a basket of baked goods and some bath and body stuff."

"How did you present yourself?"

"Just like we discussed—Danny and I were both born here, but raised on the Mainland. You're Danny's uncle, and a friend of my father, who introduced us to one another." Kris then consults her notes and tells Steve what she learned from her conversation with the three women.

Steve leans back in his chair and studies Kris, "Gut feeling?"

"We're dealing with someone who takes a great deal of pleasure in hurting those smaller than him, who won't fight back. He's definitely got a mean streak. I was also warned about his views. Apparently, they're familiar with his leanings."

"Did you see anything out of him this morning?"

"Afraid not. He works part-time for an auto repair shop. That could be a lead right there—some of his co-workers could be involved with his little gang, possibly even his boss. He left about eight-thirty this morning."

"Do you think you can get into the house?"

Kris thinks a minute, "I can go over on the pretense of introducing myself. But I don't want to do anything that would put Linda in any further danger."

"What are the odds that either of them would recognize you," Danny asks.

"Linda might. Alex, it's doubtful. He never gave me a second look in school. I wasn't his type," Kris reminds the two men.

"Sounds like you've made good progress," Steve praises the young lady.

"Thanks. I want to do a good job for y'all," Kris can't help but slip back into her soft Southern accent.

Steve then changes the subject again, "Did you bring your pistol?"

"Yes Sir." Kris reaches into her white straw bag and removes a holstered thirty-two caliber snub nose revolver, which she carefully hands to Danny, who hands it to Steve. They both notice that the little gun is spotlessly clean and oiled, and the holster is of tooled black leather.

"How good are you with this," Steve asks.

"Probably not up to Five-O standards, but I'm fairly good. About eighty percent."

"Good. Danno, let me know how she does."

"Right, Steve. I'm sure she'll do fine," Danny smiles over at her, "We're going to run out to the ranch when we get through, so she can get her Jeep."

"Why a Jeep," Steve asks, curiously.

"More practical for hauling two Goldens around," Kris explains, "I bought it while I was in college, then had it shipped here. I bought the truck and trailer after I got here, to haul horses with."

A quick ten minute drive takes them to the pistol/rifle range that the Honolulu Police Department uses. Danny introduces Kris to the retired sergeant that mans the range, just to have something to do with his free time. The older man shows them to a shooting lane and hangs the target for them, then fetches headphones.

Kris checks that her pistol is fully loaded, with a box of extra bullets on the counter. Danny steps back as she moves into a two handed grip (the pistol in her right hand, with her left supporting her wrist). At the sergeant's nod, she fires six shots in quick succession. Setting the pistol down on the counter, she waits as the target is recalled.

"Not bad," Danny tells her with a smile. There were three shots to the head, with the others to the chest. Almost all of them would've been kill shots. He hands her his thirty-eight service revolver as the target is replaced and reset. She takes a second to appreciate the weight and balance, finding it similar to her three fifty-seven.

Danny watches as she lines up with her target and squeezes the trigger. Trained as a sniper with the HPD, he's an expert and is often called on to make the difficult shots. He's impressed with her own marksmanship, though it's a bit off—considering she's firing an unfamiliar weapon. But still—nearly all six would be kills.

"Well, do I pass," Kris asks as Danny reloads the revolver and sticks it back into the holster on his belt.

"With room to spare. Steve will be pleased," Danny tells her as she reloads her own pistol and replaces it in her purse.

"I don't see why he wants to know how I did on the range," she gripes as they go back out to Danny's Mustang.

Since Steve wants to tell her himself, Danny settles for a half-truth, "He just wants to know that you can take care of yourself in a pinch."

The drive back to the Ranch takes about half an hour. Margo greets them both warmly, "Welcome home!"

"Mahalo. I just wanted to check on a few things and get the Jeep, so I won't have to rely on Danny when I need to go somewhere," Kris explains.

"Of course."

Danny follows Kris over to the barn, where she checks on two mares—a black and a palomino—that are due to foal any time. Mik Kelly, her foreman, walks up as she is in the stall with the palomino. He immediately greets him warmly, "Danny! How's it going?"

"Not bad," Danny grins as he shakes hands with the man, "How about you? Like your job?"

"Yups, great boss, terrific hours, and good working conditions."

Kris steps out of the palomino mare's stall, "Looks like she's waxing up. Keep an eye on her. And the other as well. I'll be back tomorrow. Any thing going on I need to know about?"

"Not much. Our two hogs look like their about ready to farrow any time."

"Hogs? Farrow?"

"That's the term for when hogs give birth. We raise Ossabow Island hogs, which are considered a Heritage/Rare breed. Because they're smaller, they're easier to handle and aren't quite as wild as some breeds. And since they come from an island off the Georgia Coast, they thrive here in Hawaii's warm climate. We keep them in a small paddock with hog-wire fencing and give them table scraps to supplement the corn." Kris leads the way over to two small pens (surrounded by hog wire), where the two sows (female hogs) are dozing in the sunshine, while the boar (male) is rolling in the mud in the other pen. Though smaller than what he usually sees, Danny can tell they're all three in excellent condition. There's even a small shed where they can go when it's time to give birth or get out of the sun, along with an automatic waterer and mud holes to wallow in.

"How's the meat," he asks.

"Pretty good. Nice and lean, since they forage some. Once the piglets are weaned, I give them to a nearby farmer to raise off to market size," Kris explains. "We keep some of the meat and sell the rest to local restaurants."

Mik walks over, hearing the conversation, "Ms. K is also working with the State Ag Department to get some Heritage breed turkeys. They'll be free-range as well."

Margo walks out onto the porch as they return, "Sorry to bother you—but Mrs. Bouquet is on the phone, wanting to know if she can schedule a lesson tomorrow afternoon?"

Kris sighs, to Danny's amusement, "Tell her if she can be here about one, that's fine." She looks at him, "Mrs. Bouquet is British and married to the British Consul. She thinks she has a say so on my personal life—telling me how I should dress, what I should eat, where I should go to church—you get the general idea. Since my mom lives back in Georgia, she's appointed herself in her place. She wasn't happy when I joined the First Baptist Church, instead of the Anglican. Wait until she finds out I'm dating you—she's really going to pitch a fit."

"Steve's great, but he's never interfered in my life that much," Danny chuckles.

"She believes she was born to rule, and that everyone should bow down to her, since she comes from British family with connections to royalty. I really shouldn't put up with her, but she became a student when her closest friend started boarding here. And it's her friend's little blood bay Arabian mare that I'll be showing in Sidesaddle and Country Pleasure at the State Horse Show. She's taking lessons on the mare as well."

Margo returns, having delivered the message, "She said that would be fine, but for you to please be dressed professionally."

"See what I mean," Kris smiles, "Her idea of dressing professionally is white breeches, dress boots, and a polo shirt. Mine, since we're in Hawaii, is khaki slacks, paddock boots, and a Hawaiian shirt."

"Be grateful you don't have to wear a suit and tie all the time," Danny grins.

"Yeah, but you look so nice in a suit and tie," Kris can't help but laugh. Then she looks at Margo, "I should be here about lunch. I've got a couple of things to do before I get here."

Chapter Nineteen:

Kris and Danny take their own vehicles back to the house, where she had left a small pot roast cooking in the Crockpot, complete with potatoes in gravy. Served with iced tea and a tossed salad, along with fresh fruit, he's extremely pleased with the dinner. They listen to the local news on the little TV as she reads the newest "Horse and Rider"

and "Western Horseman" magazines and he looks over a couple of files he brought home. They can't help but laugh about the mayor's appearance on TV to talk about being caught at a restaurant with a woman not his wife. His embarrassment at having been caught is obvious.

"I guess Greg Patterson actually served a purpose this time," Danny comments with a smile.

"Who?"

"He's a photographer/writer for the local tabloid who loves digging up things on local celebs, including politicians. He's made Steve's life hell as well for the last few years. And when the word got out that I was chosen for Five-0, he camped outside of my apartment for days. Plus he even followed me when I took out my last girlfriend to a luau given by one of my surfing buddies." Danny looks at Kris, softening his voice,

"Are you prepared for the kind of publicity that could result from our dating? As Steve's Second-in-Command, I'm kind of used to it. Matter of fact, that was one of the questions Stuart asked me when I was first hired."

Kris takes her time answering, sensing that it's very important to him, "To be honest, I don't think it'll bother me. For two reasons: one, you're worth it; and two—I was taught at an early age to be poised and self-confident in most situations."

Danny relaxes, then broaches another subject, "A lot of girls wouldn't be able to take the pressures of dating a cop."

"But I'm not an ordinary girl," Kris reminds him as she sets the magazine down and looks at him.

"No, you're not. But the last girl I dated didn't like it to much."

"Her loss, my gain."

"And my being a cop, especially with Five-O, can put a strain on a relationship. Lot of girls can't understand about the long hours. There are lots of nights I don't get home until late, if at all, since I sometimes sleep on the couch at the office. Plus we rotate being on-call nights and weekends. Not to mention the injuries. And more importantly, my relationship with Steve. He's very important to me, and I won't give that up."

Kris considers herself warned, and smiles, "After having spent the last few days around you two, I can see how close y'all are. And I give you my word, I won't interfere with it. Actually, I admire it."

"Thanks." Danny changes the subject, "Look about tonight-"

"Would you like to hold me," Kris offers gently.

"If you wouldn't mind," Danny's voice is soft.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did."

About nine, Kris goes and grabs a quick shower before bed. She changes into a knee-skimming navy blue night gown, then goes into the bedroom to find Danny sitting

on the edge, in a pair of pale blue pajama bottoms (revealing a finely muscled chest with a smattering of light hair). She stretches out, then allows him to lie down next to her and pull her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

It takes only a few minutes to drift off into a deep sleep, lulled by one another's deep breathing. The last thing she feels is his pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.