Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii Five-O or any of its characters.

Portrait of Jane – ATC to "Beautiful Screamer"

(In loving memory of James MacArthur)

The brief graveside service was over. Danny stood in silence with his head bowed, sweltering in his black suit, which was too warm for the tropical day. He felt Steve's hand still gripping his shoulder as it had been ever since they had arrived. He felt dazed and utterly empty. The fact that the case was solved and Walter Gregson was in prison offered no comfort, no closure. Why did this happen? Why Jane?

Steve's heart ached for his friend, but there wasn't anything he could do other than be present. Slowly, the mourners walked away, a few at a time. Steve whispered in Danny's ear, asking if he'd like to be alone for a while. Danny nodded, and giving a final firm squeeze to Danny's arm, Steve walked back to the car. Danny stood there alone, too numb even to cry. Finally he gently dropped a single red rose onto the casket whispering "I love you, too" and walked away.

Soon Danny sensed another presence, and looked up to see Pete King walking beside him, his face still bruised and swollen from their first encounter. Danny winced inside as he recalled completely losing his temper and blindly pummeling the man when he thought Pete was involved with Jane's murder. Fortunately, Chin and Kono had pulled him away from Pete before he had inflicted too much damage. Now here they were walking alongside each other. After a while, Pete reached out and caught Danny's arm, bringing him to a stop. Pete spoke quietly, his respect for Danny evident in his voice and his words.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. I know that doesn't help much. If it's okay, I'd like to meet with you to talk sometime - later, not now - only when you feel comfortable. Please. I have something to give to you."

Danny couldn't bring himself to respond. On top of his grief, he felt shame for injuring the man so unjustly. He also felt astonishment that Pete had actually come to his apartment after the beating to apologize to him! Maybe Pete is the better man, thought Danny miserably.

Pete pushed a piece of paper that bore his phone number into Danny's hand. Out of reflex, Danny put it in his pocket and continued walking toward the car where Steve sat waiting for him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As the weeks passed, Danny immersed himself in work, spending most of his time at the palace. Sitting alone in his apartment was far too suffocating. In truth, the office wasn't much better. At first, the guys walked on eggshells around him and Jenny hovered way too much. Part of him appreciated the effort; but the continued looks of sympathy and downcast eyes were beginning to get on his nerves. Steve, at least, was back to business as usual. Chin's face had taken on a "fatherly" expression, and Kono was at a loss for words most of the time. Gradually, Danny felt he was able to at least project the image of being back to normal.

From Steve's point of view, things were far from normal. He was deeply concerned about his second, his best friend. Danny's distant gaze and inattention, which had become a regular thing of late, scared the head of Five-O down to his soul. He knew that on a professional level, even a brief moment of distraction in the field could have deadly consequences. On a personal level, this was also beginning to affect the relationship between the two men, who had always been so close. A significant part of Danny was closed off from the rest of the world - the "spark" that was Danny Williams had disappeared.

This morning was no different. Danny had been silent throughout the morning staff meeting, almost motionless except for the occasional sip of his coffee, and oblivious to the concerned looks of his coworkers.

"Danno, you look like you could use some air." Steve gently remarked after his other detectives had left the big office. "Why don't you go over to HPD and pick up the evidence file for the Henderson case?"

Danny knew that it was more a command than a request. "Sure, Steve." he quietly replied, and left the office without another word.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The salt-scented breeze felt good as it blew through the open window of Danny's car on the short trip, lulling him into a more comfortable mood. As he pulled into a vacant parking spot, he heard a familiar voice call out "Hi Danny!" He looked up to see Duke Lukela approaching the car, dressed sharply in his HPD uniform, his silvery grey hair peeking out the sides of his hat. "What brings you to HPD?"

"I'm just here to pick up a file, Duke," Danny replied flatly as he stepped out of the big black Ford. "I think that Steve wanted me out of the office for a while."

Responding to the puzzled expression on Duke's face, Danny continued "I guess I haven't been quite myself lately." For some reason he couldn't explain, Danny felt comfortable admitting this to Duke.

"Do you want to talk about it, Danny?" offered Duke sincerely. He was concerned about the withdrawn look in the young man's blue eyes and the sorrow etched on his face, and he hoped that Danny would accept the invitation.

Danny considered this for a moment, and then quietly responded "Okay, thanks."

The two men walked in silence as they approached the building and sat outside on a bench in the cooling shade of a banyan tree.

"How long has it been?" asked Duke softly, carefully watching for Danny's reactions.

"Five weeks" answered Danny, staring down at the leaves on the ground.

"That's not very long. You know, Danny, every person grieves differently and there's no time table," Duke explained gently. "You need to allow yourself to feel sad, hurt and angry and not feel guilty about it. Stop fighting it and trying to hide it. It's part of taking care of yourself. That's what Jane would have wanted."

"Does it ever get better?" asked Danny in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. It will always hurt some, but the sadness will eventually fade away, hard as it is to believe right now. After a while, you will start to feel happy again every once in a while. Don't feel guilty about that either," Duke said, a hint of a grin lighting his face.

"Thanks, Duke," Danny replied, finally lifting his head to look the older man in the eyes. "You know, Steve is my best friend, but I just can't talk about this with him. Don't know why," Danny admitted, feeling that a heavy burden inside him was beginning to lift.

"Maybe because Steve didn't know very much about Jane or the depth of your relationship with her," Duke responded thoughtfully. "Danny, it might be a good idea for you to talk to someone else who knew her, maybe someone from the Makaha Club?"

Duke's suggestion hung in the air for a few minutes before Danny suddenly remembered the phone number in the pocket of his black suit jacket.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Danny started to relax, and his expression brightened a little as he changed the subject. "So what's happening around here?"

"Well, we have a new group of rookies fresh out of the academy. I'm working with a couple of them – they're ready to take on the world." Duke chuckled, sensing Danny's lighter mood. "Remember those days?"

Danny nodded and smiled, a bit of light returning to his eyes.

"And Sam Miller has announced that he is retiring in a couple of months, Duke continued. "We're planning a party and you guys are welcome to come!"

"He's going to be hard to replace," Danny added, now sounding more like the young, confident detective that Duke remembered.

"You said it, Bruddah!" said Duke, patting Danny on the shoulder. "Now let's go and get you that file."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When Danny got home that evening, he pulled his black suit jacket out of the closet and rummaged around in the pocket until he found Pete King's phone number. After rehearsing in his head what he planned to say, he got up the nerve to make the call.

"Hello, Pete?" It's Dan Williams," he began. "You asked me to give you a call so that we could meet and talk. Sorry it's taken me so long to call. I've been…uh…it's been a difficult time."

This call really felt awkward to Danny. After all, he hardly knew Pete, and their short history wasn't the best, to put it kindly.

"I have Thursday off from work," Danny continued. "Can we meet on Thursday? Okay, two o'clock at the Makaha Club; that will work for me. Good. I'll buy you a beer. See you then."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed. What have I gotten myself into now?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

On Thursday afternoon Danny walked into the posh Makaha Club. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat as bittersweet memories came rushing back. It was difficult to come here again, but it was the most convenient place since they were meeting during Pete's break time from his kitchen job. Danny made his way to the bar and spotted Pete sitting at a table in a private corner. Pete's face looked much better after several weeks' worth of healing. He rose from his seat and offered Danny his outstretched hand.

"Hey, man, it's good to see you. Thanks for coming," Pete said, smiling through his bushy mustache as Danny shook his hand.

"Good to see you, too, Pete," Danny returned as both men took their seats.

Danny motioned to a waiter and ordered two beers.

"You know that Jane had been helping me out with money for school, one hundred dollars a month," Pete began. "She asked me to donate a couple of my watercolors for the charity auction, which I was more than happy to do."

Danny realized that this information sounded completely different to him now than the first time he heard it – when he was seething with rage and looking for a motive for murder. Now it spoke to him of Jane's kindness and generosity and Pete's sacrifice of his artwork, the sale of which could have helped pay his own bills.

"I was also working on something else for her," Pete continued.

He pulled a canvas bag from beneath the table and handed its contents to Danny. It was a simple pencil sketch portrait of Jane, just her face and shoulders, but an excellent resemblance, professionally dry-mounted and protected with an acetate cover sheet. The sketch took Danny's breath away; the eyes reflected her lovely spirit and in Danny's mind, her love for him.

"Wow!" Danny whispered once he found his voice again. "Did Jane pose for this?"

"No," Pete replied. "I sketched it from memory. It was going to be a thank you gift for her financial help. I'd like you to have it."

"Thanks," Danny quietly replied, not taking his eyes from the portrait. He had mixed feelings about accepting this gift, but did so out of respect for Pete. It was the least he could do. "It's a wonderful likeness. I thought you only did landscapes."

"I do portraits, too," explained Pete. "But there's more money in painting Hawaiian scenery for tourists. I'm on pretty thin ice with this dishwashing gig after getting caught twice sketching on the job, and I need the money. Speaking of which, my break is about over and I have to get back. Thanks again for coming and thanks for the beer."

"Thank you for the portrait, Pete," Danny replied sincerely, looking Pete in the eye and shaking his hand. "I really appreciate it."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That night, Danny carefully placed the portrait of Jane on his bedside table, propping it up against the lamp. He stared at it for a long time as he lay in bed trying to fall asleep; he couldn't seem to take his eyes away from her face as the happy memories of their brief courtship played through his mind. Then the awful empty sadness hit him like a ton of bricks. Danny started to cry but this time, he allowed himself to cry and didn't feel guilt or shame. As the trade winds gently stirred the night air, he cried himself into a deep sleep.

In the morning, Danny awoke more refreshed than he had been in weeks. He glanced at the portrait on his bedside table and smiled. Once again, his eyes were captured by the sketch and as he studied it, an idea began to form. I wonder if

He laughed at the random pieces that just might fall into place as he hurried to shower and dress.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

With a renewed spring in his step, Danny jogged up the staircase of the Iolani palace to the Five-O office suite. Jenny was already there, making the first batch of coffee. When she looked up into Danny's smiling face, she was startled by the sudden change.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Danny?" Jenny teased.

"I'm just feeling better today," replied Danny, giving the petite secretary a quick hug. "I have a couple of important phone calls to make," he continued with a wink, disappearing into his cubicle.

Jenny shook her head and grinned from ear to ear. It seemed that her favorite detective was back!

Danny found the phone listings for HPD in his rolodex. He was on the edge of his seat as he dialed and waited for Sam Miller to pick up.

"Hi Sam, Dan Williams," he began. "I hear that you're up for retirement in a couple of months – congratulations! I have a proposal for you, Sam. I know a young artist; he's really good – I think you should meet him. Would you be willing to let him shadow you on the job for a couple of days? Good."

The elder police sketch artist knew where this conversation was going.

"That way, he can see what the job entails, and you can get a feel for his strengths and see if he'd be a good fit for the position," Danny continued. "I've seen his work, Sam, and I think you'll be impressed. He's also a good guy. Great, Sam. Thanks. No, I wanted to check with you first. I'll call him as soon as I hang up. Bye."

Danny fished the weeks-old slip of paper out of his pocket and redialed the phone.

"Hi Pete; it's Dan Williams. How would you like to get paid for sketching on the job instead of getting chewed out?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As it turned out, Pete King was a perfect fit for the HPD sketch artist position. He was kind, patient and understanding when working with victims of crimes or confused witnesses. The sketches he drew from verbal descriptions were incredibly accurate. And he was well-liked by the officers with whom he worked, both at HPD and at Five-O. He still had time on the side to capture the beautiful scenery of his island home in the watercolors he painted, many of which he displayed and sold in local art galleries.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been a long day and the palace was empty, except for Hawaii's two top detectives, still occupying the corner office. The palm trees rustled outside the French doors opening to the lanai, gently swaying in the evening breeze. Half-empty cartons of Chinese take-out and open file folders littered the big desk. On top of one of the folders was a pencil sketch of the prime suspect in the current case - Pete King's latest rendering.

Steve stood up and stretched his tall frame. He rubbed his hand over his face and walked over to the open door to breathe in the night air.

"It's late, Danno. You should go home," Steve said through a stifled yawn.

"Let's go over the facts one more time, Steve," replied Danny, scratching his curly head. "Maybe something new will jump out. I'm fine."

Steve grinned. "I know that you're fine, my friend. I'm so glad that you're back, one hundred percent."

"Steve, thanks for your understanding the past few months," Danny replied softly. "I know that I haven't been at my best, and it was hard for me to talk about it…"

With you. Steve completed Danny's unspoken thought in his own mind.

"Danno, I have a confession to make," Steve continued. "I sort of arranged that meeting you had with Duke. I knew that you had to talk to someone, and for whatever reason, it wasn't going to be me. I just wanted you to have the help you needed. Sorry about the hidden agenda."

Danny shook his head in mock annoyance. "You're always watching out for me," he replied. Then he smiled sincerely, his blue eyes twinkling, and added "Mahalo, Steve!"

Pau