Ice and Blood

Liz Gregg

NOTE: Hawaii Five-O fan fiction.
This story was written in response to a challenge. I was required to severely hurt McGarrett emotionally and not physically, and to keep the story short 3-5 pages.

She could see them but they couldn't see her. Her father, so tall and handsome in his dark suit and crisp white shirt. But his voice sounded different, roaring, blistering, it hurt her, but she couldn't move to get away! Her mother wept, 'Frank, no, no, no, Frank, no…'

One deafening bang. The swish of fabric and a carpet-muffled thud. An arm flung across the floor, and on fingers splayed, long and slender, a ring gleamed. The diamond's facets reflected a prism of light in the hallway, trapping her there as effectively as the steel bars of an isolation cell. Kneeling, she grabbed the hand, her mommy's hand, cold, still, sticky-wet, 'Mommy, wake up, Mommy. Mommy? mommymommymommymommymommy……."

Twenty years later…

Steve McGarrett was in love. Wildly in love. He'd never met a woman like Rebecca. Playful and childlike, warm and tender, wanton and passionate, her emotions ran the gamut. She'd shown them all to him, especially during their lovemaking. Obsession gripped him, and if it wasn't for the hard work of establishing Five-0, he feared he'd go mad.

They'd only known each other for a few months, but Steve had made up his mind. He'd pick her up tonight and take her to a restaurant where the aroma was ambrosia, and meals arrived on Wedgwood and cost half a week's pay. He'd seen an accountant and a jeweler; had everything planned and the details settled in his mind. Sure, it'd be tight for a while, but they'd make it, he had no doubts.

Steve drove directly to her apartment after work. The end of a long day, he cut it close for time but made sure he wasn't late. Not tonight. But when finally in her living room, holding her in his arms, it seemed Rebecca had something else in mind.

"Come on, Steve," she purred playfully, pulling him toward the bedroom, "I haven't seen you all week!" Rebecca pretended to pout, but her sparkling green eyes betrayed her

"But Rebecca," Steve began.

"I need you, Steve," she insisted. She unbuttoned his jacket and slipped slender hands around his waist. "Please."

"I need you, too," he pulled her close, and kissed her, "and we'll have each other, baby, later, after dinner." He kissed her again…and again, and then pulled her lithe, warm body against his.

He could never resist her, never say no. Soon they lay naked on the bed, the sheets kicked to the floor in a tangled heap, his hard body covering hers.
He kissed her fiercely, bit her lip and breathed into her mouth, "You are so hot, baby, so hot."

"Now, Steve, I'm ready now," she urged.

Their feverish skin was moist and flushed, and their bodies pushed and twisted and strained to be closer. Steve moved inside her with an urgency that soon brought both them to completion.

"I love you, Steve," she whispered afterward, lying in his arms, her eyes wide, bright, full with love.

"I love you too, Becca," he murmured, his voice husky. He felt overwhelmed, bursting, like his heart wasn't large enough to hold all the feelings he had for this beautiful, enigmatic woman.

Suddenly inspired, Steve shot up in bed. Reservations be damned; he'd rustle up an omelet later. This is not what he'd dreamed of doing, but neither had he dared to imagine finding a woman like Rebecca. Not bothering to grab a robe, he scrambled out of bed and found where his jacket lay in a heap on the bedroom floor. He fumbled in the pockets until he found the smooth, hard box.

"Becca, my sweet Rebecca," murmured Steve, and he grabbed a blanket from the floor before he slid back on the bed. He tucked the coverings around their hips, fluffed a few pillows behind them and pulled Rebecca to sit up with him. He felt uncharacteristically nervous, but then decided to just let the words rush out.

"I made special plans for tonight, Rebecca, to take you out to dinner. I made reservations, and… Oh, Becca, none of this is going the way I had planned, but, I love you so much, and I want us to be together forever." Steve pulled his hand out from under the blanket, and handed her the black box. "This is for you, baby."

Rebecca looked at the small case, then at Steve, but the odd, frozen expression on her face made Steve's throat tighten. She opened the box, and the moonlight reflected on the facets of the diamond, casting a prism of light on Rebecca's glistening, hollow, empty eyes.

Steve knew it was time to propose, but he couldn't get the words out. He could say nothing, do nothing but watch as the case with the diamond ring tumbled from her fingers to the bed sheets. This was a nightmare unfolding, it couldn't be happening, no way. How had he misread her so horribly wrong?

Rebecca slid away from him, towards the edge of the bed. Then she moved so fast he had little time to react. His gut compressed into a mass of tightly knotted steel when Rebecca deftly opened the drawer to her nightstand, rummaged around and then smoothly pulled out a handgun.

At first he still didn't know what was happening. "Becca, no! Be careful! You could get hurt!" Then his mouth tasted sour when she stood and pointed the gun at his chest.

"No, no, no, Frank, no…" The monotone words, uttered lifelessly, in a voice Steve didn't know, a voice that was not Rebecca's, nonetheless saved Steve's life. He rolled off the bed and avoided a bullet that ripped through the mattress, instead of blasting a hole through Steve McGarrett's chest.

On the floor, his heart hammered violently in his chest. On a warm, clear night, the best Hawaii had to offer, Steve shivered and his limbs felt stiff and frozen. Rebecca's slim legs appeared in his line of vision and he managed to escape another shot. Cold sweat poured from his body, running down his back, his neck, his face, mixing with his tears.

"Rebecca! Put down the gun! Now! Before you get hurt!"

"Rebecca?" Her voice morphed into a ghastly shriek. "Rebecca's not here, you fool!"

It was then the horrific thought took full form: I have to make her put down that damn gun, one way or the other! He had no time to think about what her words meant; it had come down to raw survival. He crept along the floor to the other side of the bed; to where before making love, he'd hastily wedged his gun between the mattress and box spring. Finally he reached his weapon and yanked it free. Firearm readied, he knelt and peered over the bed, only to see Rebecca standing still in the doorway.

"Please, baby, please," he begged, suddenly drained and exhausted, desperate for it to all be over, "give me the gun, and we can talk about this. We can figure out what's happening."

She spun around and fired. Steve's instincts saved him again, but the shot was damn close. He stood and Rebecca aimed her revolver, but she never had the chance to fire. Steve's single shot hit its mark; she was dead instantly.

For long moments Steve sat on the floor, cradled her body and wept. He kept reviewing what happened, over and over again. Was there was nothing he could have done, no way to foresee what had happened? Hell, what exactly did happen? And despite what she did, how would he live without her now?

"Rebecca!" he cried out loud, rocking her body back and forth, kissing hair that had grown dull, and lips and cheeks that cooled with each passing minute. I killed the woman I loved. I killed her I killed her I killed her…. He didn't know how he'd live with himself, or how he'd ever be able to function effectively. How could anything be normal again?

As her body moved, her arm freed and her hand opened. Steve saw that she was clutching a diamond ring, an old one set in white gold, not the one he bought for her, and its facets reflected the moonlight across their faces.

Something about the moment helped snapped Steve out of his personal agony. Whatever happened here, she must have family somewhere, someone who needed to be notified. And he had to find out about that ring. He knew there was a link with it, somehow.

Steve carefully placed a pillow under her head, and then sat on the edge of the bed by the phone. It took three tries to reach Dan Williams, and when he did, he found that he could hardly talk.

"Dan," he began, but his voice started shaking.

"Steve? Is that you, Steve?"

"Yeah, Danno." Steve was shocked by the weakness of his own voice.

"Are you alright? Where are you Steve?"

"I'm okay. I'm at Rebecca's apartment." He gave Dan the address. "Can you come right away?"

"I'm as good as there, Steve."

"Thanks, Danno."

"Oh, and Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I need to bring…anything, anyone, else?"

"Later, yeah. But right now, I just need you."

"You got it, Boss."

Steve knew he could count on the Dan Williams to help him straighten out this mess. For now, he'd protect Rebecca the only way he could. He'd begin a thorough investigation, but he'd keep it as discreet as possible. And he'd try to find a way to go on.

The End