Author's notes: This story takes place immediately after the end of Double Cross. You don't need to have read that to understand this but the first few paragraphs will make more sense if you have. To all of you who left such AMAZING reviews on Double Cross I'm working my way through replying to them. I promise. Please know that every word is appreciated more than you could ever know. Things have been a bit insane in my real life lately and time has been a bit of an issue but I'll get there.

To those of you who review as guests let me say a great big THANK YOU!

Thanks to Mari & ilna, who are simply the best. I couldn't do this without you girls and frankly I wouldn't want to.

And as always to Sandy who, quite simply, just gets it.

Many of you have asked if there will be another jumbo length fic forthcoming and the answer is yes. You guys are so awesome I might actually shoot for 200 pages this time. LOL Just give me a few weeks to get some other things taken care of. I already have a storyline in mind. Look for it sometime in September.

Fare Bet

After being shut down for almost a week while authorities wrapped up their investigation, Kamekona was relieved to finally celebrate the Grand Reopening of the shrimp truck. The trailer had been scrubbed and polished inside and out. The crime scene tape was gone, replaced by balloons and brightly colored streamers. There were smiles all around as people from all over Oahu, as well as many from the neighboring islands, came by to say hello and express to Kamekona how happy they were he made it through his ordeal unharmed.

The big man held court at a table out front, regaling his enthralled customers, some who hadn't heard the story yet and many who had but delighted in the prospect of hearing it again, with his retelling of the events that took place inside that very trailer the night he was held at gunpoint by Riley Winstead.

He beamed from ear to ear when a small boy approached timidly, said he heard on TV that Kamekona was a hero who helped catch a very bad lady, then held up a napkin and a crayon and with wide eyes asked for an autograph. Kamekona assured the boy they could do better than a napkin and a crayon then lead the young man and his mother into the trailer for a personally guided tour. The youngster emerged ten minutes later wearing an official t-shirt, carrying a menu with Kamekona's autograph emblazoned across the front and sporting a smile a mile wide.

Steve, Danny and Catherine watched the scene unfold from their seats at a table directly in front of the freshly polished truck. The VIP table Kamekona affectionately called it. They were delayed conducting an interview on a new case and so arrived after the others who'd made plans at yesterday's BBQ to meet today for lunch. By the time they sat down everyone was almost finished eating. They were in time, however, to join Chin, Kono, Leilani, Adam, Duke and Grover in a rousing rendition of For He's A Jolly Good Fellow dedicated to Kamekona. They stayed behind to finish their lunch as the others headed back to work.

"So, against my better judgment I have to ask," Danny said as he wiped his hands on a napkin and looked across the table at Catherine, "because I've been trying to figure it out since last Tuesday … explain to me please how this bar trick of yours works. Can you really stand on your head and drink a beer?"

Catherine and Steve looked at Danny and smiled knowingly.

"I mean … I'm sure I probably don't want to know and yet … I can't stop thinking about the logistics of it … well not your specific logistics … ," he indicated Catherine," because I prefer not to think of that … just the general … you know … of how a person does that …" Danny's voice trailed off, his cheeks slightly pink.

"Actually," Steve corrected him, "I believe I said you should ask her to show you."

"I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that yet." Danny waved off the suggestion. "I'd rather just hear the story of your lucrative second career making money off suckers in bars."

Catherine smiled indulgently. "It wasn't anything like that. It's not like I did it regularly to cover my bar tab."

"You didn't?" Steve teased.

Catherine elbowed him in the ribs. "You know very well I didn't."

"How does one … and again please don't make me regret asking this … but how does a person realize they have no gag reflex?"

"My mother said when I was a little girl learning to brush my own teeth she noticed no matter how far I stuck the toothbrush back in my throat I never gagged. So I guess I've always known. It's not all that unusual though," Catherine explained. "Up to thirty percent of the American population has no gag reflex."

"Really?" Danny looked at her skeptically, "because it's been my experience … never mind. So are you telling me that any of those people can stand on their head and drink a beer?"

"No, but it helps. You also need really strong throat muscles."

Danny let out a strangled moan.

"You asked," Steve reminded him.

"My dad claims I got those," Catherine went on, "because I used to line up my stuffed animals and pretend we were in a battle and I was their leader and I would yell commands at them for hours on end."

Steve smiled at the mental image of a young Catherine urging her stuffed troops on to victory.

"Still … what makes a person try something like that… standing on your head and drinking something... for the first time?" Danny asked.

"Curiosity," Catherine answered simply. "I was a senior in high school and some of my friends and I saw somebody do it on TV. We wondered if we could do it so we grabbed a couple of bottles of soda and tried. I was the only one who could."

"And a bar trick was born," Danny grinned.

"I tried to use it sparingly," Catherine smiled in return.

She knew Danny was only teasing, and it didn't bother her coming from him, but she was well aware the connotations that came with the trick and she didn't want to get a reputation, especially when she was on active duty and often drank in military bars when she did go out, for being a girl who did outrageous things to get attention.

"What constitutes a trick worthy occasion?" Danny asked interestedly.

"Well," Catherine confessed, "I'll admit I was goaded into doing it a few times to shut up a loud group of Marines, and once to stick it to a particularly annoying Army Ranger but most of the time I did it for things like … well once to raise some money to help pay for one of the women in my unit to fly her family to London so she could meet them there for a three day leave, and once to buy my parents a special anniversary gift."

"And at least once to pay for a very luxurious three-day leave in a fancy hotel in Amsterdam," Steve added.

Danny cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

"That wasn't what it started out as," Catherine smiled softly.

"I know," Steve said as he dropped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the temple.

"Ok then," Danny settled in. "That's the one I want to hear about."

Catherine sat on a stool at a crowded bar in downtown Amsterdam eyeing a large group of men gathered at the back of the room. They had a dozen or more tables pushed together, most covered with beer pitchers and appetizer trays, and it looked to her as if they were celebrating something. She hoped they'd be in the mood to play a little bar game and help her get what she needed.

Money.

And fast.

She glanced at her watch.

The next plane to Frankfurt Airport in Germany took off in a little over an hour and she intended to be on it.

She arrived in Amsterdam the previous day on a seven-day leave. She'd been planning the get-away for weeks and just a few days earlier Steve let her know he'd be able to join her, probably not for the entire week but at least for a couple of days.

She practically floated into town after hearing the news.

They hadn't seen each other in close to two months and she missed him more than she wanted to admit. She could tell by the happy tone in his voice over the phone when she assured him she'd love it if he joined her that he was missing her as well.

She arrived early and waited at their pre-arranged meeting place but he never showed.

Once she started making calls it didn't take long to discover why. She didn't know details of what he'd been up to of course but when she heard the tragic news of a live explosives accident on a joint training mission at an undisclosed location she knew he had to have been involved.

It's the only thing that would have kept him from calling.

She could only get limited information over the phone, even using her connections and calling in every favor she could think of, but she did find out Steve's team was part of the exercise. She was told the injured men were being evacuated out to Landstuhl for evaluation. After two more fruitless hours of trying and failing to reach someone … anyone … who could give her news about his condition, she knew what she had to do.

She checked out of the hotel determined to get to his side in Germany.

She made some calls and tried to get on a military transport but things were chaotic after the accident and she was having no luck. With no more time to waste she decided to fly commercial.

Last minute.

Full fare.

She didn't care what it cost. She had to be on that plane.

She watched as one of the men from the group approached the bar and asked the bartender to send over several more pitchers of beer.

Hi," Catherine said.

Hi," the man replied.

Something about this whole situation felt wrong and she thought about just paying for her drink and leaving. She could go to the airport and call her parents. She was sure they'd wire her the money. Her only fear was that it wouldn't arrive in time for her to make the next flight. She knew her friends would help as well but again none of them could get their hands on the kind of cash she needed in time.

A picture of a wounded Steve forced its way into her consciousness and she knew what she had to do.

She turned to the man beside her and struck up a conversation.

After a few minutes of bland chit-chat about the weather Catherine got right to the point. She didn't have any time to waste.

"I'm sorry what did you say?" the man, who had now taken a seat on the stool next to her, smirked.

"I said … I'll bet you I can stand on my head and drink this beer." She indicated the full beer on the bar in front of her.

The man was well dressed, impeccably groomed and looked to be in his late twenties.

"Really?" he asked, his curiosity clearly peaked.

"Yes, really," Catherine said matter-of-factly.

"Well I … uhhhh … I'd like to see that," he nodded.

"Like I said … it's a bet … ," Catherine said nonchalantly, "you're gonna have to make it worth my time."

"How much?" the man asked

"Five hundred dollars," Catherine shrugged.

The man whistled through his teeth. "That's a steep price."

"It's a good trick. Maybe you should see if your friends want to chip in." Catherine indicated the group of men towards the back of the bar. The large number of them was what led her to approach this particular man in the first place. She only had time to do this once and she needed to make it count. So the more people chipping in the better.

"Well, why don't you come over with me and we'll …" the man placed his hand on Catherine's arm and she pulled away.

She took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eyes. "I want to make sure you didn't get the wrong idea here. This is just about the bet. You're paying for the show. There is no after party."

"I appreciate your straightforwardness," the man smiled at her. "Just let me go talk to my friends for a minute."

"Thank you," Catherine relaxed. "I'll wait right here."

She glanced at her watch and calculated how long it would take her to get to the airport as the man sauntered over and talked to his friends. After a few minutes he returned with another man.

"My manners are atrocious. I realize I didn't introduce myself. My name is Gerhard. This is my brother, Cameron," he pointed to the other man. "We're here celebrating his bachelor party."

"Oh, wait," Catherine held up her hands. "I think you might have the wrong idea … "

"No, no, it's fine," Cameron assured her. "Gerhard told me about your bet. He said you needed a little quick cash."

"Yes, I do." Catherine eyed him cautiously.

"I'm with the Amsterdam police and I just wanted to make sure you're alright and you're not in any trouble."

"No," Catherine smiled, feeling relieved, "I'm not in any trouble. I need to get to Landstuhl to see a friend. I haven't been able to reach him and I'm afraid he may be injured. He doesn't have anyone else and I want to get there as soon as possible."

"You're American military?" Cameron asked, noting her duffle bag.

"Yes, Navy," Catherine nodded.

"Is your friend badly injured?" Gerhard chimed in.

"I'm not sure. That's why I need to get there." There was something about the kindness the two men were showing her that made Catherine blurt out everything. How Steve was supposed to meet her but hadn't shown up. How he would never stand her up without calling unless something was wrong. How she couldn't get any details because the mission was top-secret. How she just wanted to get to his side as soon as possible.

The men listened with sympathetic smiles.

"Well then let's get you there," Cameron said determinedly. He turned and addressed the bar in Dutch. After listening intently several of the patrons began to take a few bills out of their wallets and lay them on a table in the center of the room. Gerhard and Cameron collected the money and cajoled a little extra out of the men attending the bachelor party.

Finally, Cameron stepped forward and handed her a stack of bills. "I think this should get you to Germany."

Catherine picked up her beer, smiled gratefully and said "Let's do this then."

"The money is yours whether you do the trick or not," Cameron told her. "I can see how badly you want to get to your friend. But I'll admit to being slightly curious."

Catherine smiled at him then handed him her beer and said, "Hold this for a second". She placed her duffel bag on the floor in front of the bar to give herself something soft to put her head on.

"Can you help me slide a few of these tables off to the side," she said, trying to create an open sight line so the people who had kindly put up money could see the trick.

As they were sliding tables out of the way the door to the bar opened and a young man wearing military fatigues, his face covered in scratches, entered. He looked around anxiously. After not finding what he was looking for in the front part of the bar he moved towards the back section where the bachelor party was being held.

He took a few steps into the room and his gaze immediately fell on the Catherine moving furniture.

"What's going on?" he asked the man standing closest to him.

Barely looking up, Gerhard, who had rejoined the bachelor party and was now standing on the edge of the group said, "This young lady needs to get to Germany quickly to see a sick friend so in order to earn the airfare she bet us she could stand on her head and drink a beer."

Steve's heart clenched.

He knew Catherine would never do the trick in a room full of strangers unless she was desperate.

But here she was. He'd hoped he could make it to Amsterdam before news of the explosion and the casualties reached her.

His team was part of a large multi-nation joint training exercise that went very wrong. A truck carrying explosives that were supposed to have been de-activated, but because of a miscommunication weren't, detonated killing five and injuring nearly a hundred more. All the men in his unit were thankfully still alive, though several had significant injuries. They were evacuated out to Ramstein for emergency treatment and would then to be moved on to other facilities.

When Steve first arrived in Germany he was consumed with trying to make sure all his teammates were ok. By the time they were all out of the woods, and they all, along with his CO, encouraged him to take his scheduled leave, he tried to call Catherine to fill her in on what was happening but she'd already left for Amsterdam.

He knew he was going to be late to meet her, and that she'd be worried, but in all the chaos he forgot exactly which hotel they were staying at so he couldn't call and get a message to her. Then he got word he could get a seat on a transport leaving immediately and he grabbed it.

As soon as he arrived in Amsterdam he made contact with Carrie, Catherine's roommate from the Naval Academy. Even though were on separate assignments he knew Catherine would have called Carrie under these circumstances to tell her what was going on. Carrie told him Catherine was panicked about not being able to reach him and was going to do her bar trick for plane fare. She told him the name of the bar, which Catherine had given to Carrie in the interest of safety, and Steve made a beeline.

He watched her move the tables with a determined air before turning, surveying the scene one last time, then flipping into a headstand. She got her balance, crossed her legs gracefully, then reached out her hand for the beer. Cameron leaned down and handed it to her then stepped back as she placed the bottle to her lips and drank it straight down.

Or rather up.

"Can you imagine what kind of throat muscles that takes?" Gerhard said as Catherine finished up the last of the beer and flipped herself upright again.

Steve smiled softly.

"Whoever she's rushing off to see in Germany is a lucky guy."

"He certainly is," Steve beamed and suddenly Gerhard made the connection.

The two men watched as Catherine grabbed her things, thanked Cameron for his help, and headed for the door.

The minute she spotted Steve her face erupted in a smile.

"Steve," she squealed delightedly. She ran across the room and jumped into his arms as the bar broke into raucous applause. "Are you alright? I was so worried." She peppered his face with kisses then pulled back and looked at the scratches. "What happened?"

"I'll explain later," he told her as he placed a kiss on her lips. "Right now I'm exhausted. I just want to go somewhere quiet. With you."

"Let's go then." Catherine started to pull him toward the door then stopped and looked at the money in her hand. She turned back towards Gerhard and Cameron who were smiling at her happily.

"I shouldn't accept this," she tried to hand the money back. "I don't need to fly to Germany now."

Cameron smiled. "It's ok. You keep it. You did the trick and a bet's a bet. Besides, your friend looks like he could use some rest. Take that money and check into a nice hotel and pamper yourselves."

"Are you sure?" Catherine bit her lip.

"Very sure," the men said in unison. "Now go."

An hour later Steve and Catherine lay wrapped up in each other in a sumptuous room at the Park Plaza Victoria Amsterdam Hotel. The room, the small bit of it they'd looked at as they headed immediately to the bed, lips fused together, was magnificent.

"Thanks, Cath," Steve said as he drew lazy circles on her bare shoulder.

"For what?" she asked. She knew he'd talk when he was ready. She was happy to let him set the pace.

"I know you hate to do that trick in this kind of situation …"

She pressed her finger to his lips to quiet him. "I would have done anything to get to you."

"Same here," he smiled as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. "Always."

Danny smiled fondly at his friends. "That's a very sweet story and all … but … I was kind of hoping …"

"Hoping what?" Catherine asked.

"I don't know. I was thinking maybe I could be your manager and we could get a lucrative little side business going. I'll have a kid starting college before you know it and this could be her college fund."

"Grace is brilliant. She'll be just fine," Catherine chuckled.

"Besides," Steve chimed in. "She won't need a scholarship. She's going to the Naval Academy." He couldn't resist winding his partner up.

"Bite your tongue, Steven. Bite your tongue."

THE END

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