Background information

Caylin – OC, Danny's cousin. She's visiting him on Hawaii, but gets stuck with Steve McGarrett for one evening and finds out something she did not expect.

Caylin's point of view

It's the first time I'm panting because I'm hurrying after someone. Usually it's the other way around. Steve McGarrett walks ahead of me with my two suitcases and I'm struggling to keep up with him. He waits for me in the elevator of the hotel.

"Are you coming?" he asks slightly impatiently. My cousin Danny wasn't kidding when he said patience was not one of his partner's virtues!

I look at the elevator, trying to get my breath back. It was way too small for my liking. I shake my head.

"I'll take the stairs and meet you at the 5th floor."

"Room 508," he calls after me, before the doors close.

I run up the stairs and see Steve open the door to my hotel room.

"Are you claustrophobic, Caylin?" he asks me casually.

"Maybe," I mumble and walk past him into the room. "Wow, this is fancy!"

Fancy is an understatement. The room looks fabulous. White walls, lavender curtains, roses on the table and a chocolate on the pillow.

"It's alright," he shrugs and I frown.

"Do you ever get enthusiastic about something?" I ask as I put my suitcase on the floor and start unpacking.

"Rarely," he drily remarks and walks into the bathroom. "You'll probably be over the moon with this stuff. Look at these little shampoo bottles and tiny soap…"

Before I can go and have a look, he's standing next to me. I get the feeling he's inspecting my luggage.

"Do you really need this?" He picks up my book and frowns at the title. "Blinded by Desire. 'Desree meets handsome doctor George after she'…Oh, my God. I didn't realise people actually read this nonsense."

I blush and quickly snatch the book out of his hands.

"No one is asking you to read it."

"Not even with a knife against my throat," he says. "I estimated your intelligence a little higher, Caylin…"

"That's the friendliest thing you have said since you picked me up at the airport," I smile sarcastically.

Half an hour later we were standing outside an Irish Pub in downtown Honolulu. Danny had apparently asked Steve to keep me entertained during the evening, until he arrived back from a family visit to New Jersey. His plane was delayed and he didn't want me to hang around on my own at night. However, being alone didn't sound so bad at this point. I've never been a party animal and I didn't really feel like going to a pub with an ex-Navy SEAL and his short temper.

"Whistle Binkies," I read out loud. I frown as I look at the graffiti clad wall and the dirty windows. "Are you sure we should go in there?"

Steve holds the door open for me. I can smell cigarettes and alcohol and wrinkle my nose.

"Are you sure it's safe for tourists? It looks like the kind of place where drug dealers…"

"Get in," he sighs and practically shoves me inside. To my surprise I see a little stage and a microphone.

"It's karaoke night," Steve informs me and points at a table in the back of the pub. "Take a seat."

I do as I'm told and look around. It's not that bad. The music is okay, maybe a little loud, but the people don't look very dangerous. More like locals and Irish tourists, enjoying their Saturday evening.

"What would you like to drink?" he asks.

"Have they got red dessert wine?"

"No, they haven't. But they have this drink I'm sure you'll like. It's sweet and very girly."

"I'll give it a try," I shrug.

He comes back from the bar with two large glasses. A beer for him and a glass with orange-ish liquid.

"Is this heavy liquor?" I ask as he takes place next to me.

"What?"

"Is this heavy liquor?" I repeat in a loud voice and point to my glass.

"No, this is a girly drink. Hasn't got much alcohol," he says in a reassuring tone of voice. He turns his attention towards the microphone on stage. "Do you like karaoke?"

I frantically shake my head.

"Oh, no. I'm not singing in front of strangers."

"You prefer singing for people you know?"

"No, I couldn't sing in key if my life depended on it," I chuckle and take a sip of the mysterious liquor.

"Not that bad, actually!" I say and give him the thumbs up in case he doesn't hear me over the music. "You can hardly taste the alcohol! What do you call this?"

"A snakebite."

"A what?"

"Snakebite. You know, the bite of a snake."

"Sounds painful."

"It will be when you're singing on stage after a snakebite too many."

"Never!"

'Never' turns out to three snakebites later. Steve tries to talk me out of drinking so much, but for some reason I decide to ignore his advice. I feel absolutely fabulous and free. In fact, I feel so good that I decide it's a good time for conquering my stage fright. The presenter tries to get Steve on the stage as well, so we can perform 'Islands in the Stream' together, but the lieutenant commander is having none of it. I think he actually threatened the presenter with bodily harm when he took hold of his arm to drag him on stage.

I perform 'Walking on Sunshine', get a roaring applause despite singing out of tune, and try to walk back to the table in a straight line.

"I think it's time to go, Caylin," Steve says after watching me almost fall down from the chair as I try to sit down.

"Why? I'm having such a good time!" I exclaim disappointedly. "I'm going to get another drink."

I try to walk towards the bar, but trip over my own feet and slam against a barstool.

"Are you alright?" I hear the bartender ask. I smile and nod.

"I'm fiiiine!"

Suddenly I feel someone grab my arm and pull me towards the exit. When we get outside I realise I can hardly walk. I lean against the wall and let myself drop to the ground. I'm ready to fall asleep right there.

"Caylin. Hey, Caylin. Look at me."

"Hm?"

Steve gently taps my cheek and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Ow! That hurts," I moan. I look up and it seems like the world is spinning. The feeling of pure euphoria is slowly fading.

"Do you think you can walk?" I hear him ask.

I look at him and realise he's actually concerned.

"You bet your Hawaiian ass I can," I mutter.

I carefully try to get up. With a little help of my cousin's partner I manage to get to my feet.

"Alright, we're going to walk slowly towards the car," Steve informs me. "Lean on me. It's not that far. Do you see the restaurant on the corner on the right?"

I nod.

"We have to turn right there and then walk a quarter mile or so."

"A quarter mile?" I groan.

We manage to get to the restaurant, but it takes a while. Steve is getting impatient again, because he keeps looking a his watch.

"Hold on. I've got a better idea, this is taking too damn long," he says.

"Hm?"

Before I know what's happening, Steve bends down, puts his arms around my waist and throws me over his left shoulder.

"No! Steve, put me down!" I shriek. The world starts spinning even faster. I struggle, but he's got a firm hold on me and ignores my insistent request. After half a minute of protesting, I give up. He's much stronger, excels in close combat and isn't drunk.

"I'll have Danny kick your ass tomorrow," I threaten him, but he pretends not to hear me.

I can hardly remember the ride back to the hotel. But I estimate it's half an hour later when I open my eyes and feel my anxiety quickly rising to an alarming level. The space we're in is really small and dimly lit. The only reason I'm standing up straight is thanks to the fact Steve is keeping me upright with an arm around my waist. My head is leaning on his shoulder. We're standing still, but yet it feels like we're moving. That is until we come to an abrupt stop. The light flickers and then slowly fades out.

"Shit," I hear Steve whisper.

"Where are we?" My voice sounds hoarse and I'm starting to feel short of breath.

"In the elevator of your hotel," he calmly informs me. "I think we're stuck. Must be a problem with the electricity."

My eyes grow wide, but Steve can't see that in the dark.

"Alright, sit down. I'll get help."

I sit on the floor as he presses the emergency button.

"Steve…I…I can't breathe."

My breathing is heavy and I grab his shirt in panic.

"So you are claustrophobic?"

I nod and then realise he can't see me.

"Yes…," I admit eventually.

I'm not sure if I'm only imagining it, but I think I hear him say 'oh, great'.

"Breathe in and breathe out, slowly. We'll be out of here in no time."

A voice through the intercom assures us we'll be out in an hour. If I had the strength I would've started screaming. An hour?! A whole hour in a tight, dark room?

He sits down on the floor next to me and I can sense he's looking at me.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"No," I whine. "This…this is like my worst nightmare."

I hear Steve chuckle.

"What? Being stuck in small spaces or being stuck in small spaces with me?"

"The latter," I answer.

We're both quiet for a moment.

"Steve?"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared."

"There is no reason to be scared," he says in a calm voice. "We're safe here and the mechanics are fixing this elevator as quickly as possible."

"You're not scared?"

"No," he says and I believe him. "There are worse things to be scared of."

"Such as?"

I try to keep him talking, because for some reason his voice has a calming effect on me.

"A lot of things," he says vaguely.

"What are you afraid of then?"

Another silence.

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?"

I couldn't help but smile.

"I promise."

"You'd better, because if you tell a living soul, I'll murder you."

"No, you won't. Danny taught me self defense," I inform him. "Anyway, what is it?"

"Mice."

I blink a few times rapidly.

"Come again?"

"You heard me."

At that moment the lights come on and the elevator starts moving.

Steve looks at me, clearly regretting his confession.

"Remember," he starts in a threatening manner. "You tell anyone…"

I smile as I hear the 'ping' that signals we've reached the fifth floor, and quickly step out of the elevator. I'd have to tell Danny later, this was information that could certainly come in handy…