To our REAL McRollers, reviewers, and friends: thank you all for the love & support! You make us smile every day.

Sammy & Ilna, thanks for making every day better, simply by being there. Sammy, thanks for our doggy discussion on this one.

Hugs, Mari

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Rough Night

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McGarrett/Rollins Residence
Saturday, 3:00 a.m.

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Steve and Catherine sat up simultaneously, blinking in the darkness to locate the source of the noise that broke their sleep. There it was again. And again. Retching. They bolted out of bed.

"Steve, she's sick." Catherine announced as Steve snapped on the light. "Oh, Cammie, Sweetie, let me see." Cammie was looking at her with a forlorn expression as she tried to vomit, but nothing left her stomach.

"Cammie?" Steve kneeled on the other side of the dog, running a hand through her soft fur. "Okay. It's okay. We've got you." Catherine heard the edge in his voice that belied his calm tone as he went into professional mode "What did she vomit up?" His eyes swept the floor.

"Looks like her dinner. There. On the rug." Catherine stood. "I'll see if she got into anything that made her sick." She kissed Cammie's head and ran to grab a pair of evidence gloves. When she returned seconds later, she used a tongue depressor from a crime scene kit to look through the mess on the rug.

"Anything?" Steve asked from where he was sitting a few feet away, next to the dog bed with Cammie half on his lap. He slid out from under the dog, intending to leave her lying on her bed, but she stood and followed him.

Catherine shook her head. "No. Nothing. Maybe she swallowed some salt water when we were swimming?" She sat on the bedroom floor and Cammie came to her. When she did, Catherine nuzzled the dog's face. "Does your tummy hurt, Baby? I'm so sorry."

Steve paced to the door and back. "What …" He ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe it's nothing. She's acting fine." He noted. Cammie wasn't lethargic; she was sitting happily across Catherine's legs, all ninety five pounds of her. "I'll get her water bowl and bring it up here."

Steve wasn't halfway down the stairs when Cammie jumped off Catherine's lap and began to pace. A few seconds later, she was vomiting again. "Steve!" Catherine called and he was back in a flash.

"What … we have to do something, Cath. What if she's really sick? She never gets sick." His voice was steady, but Catherine could see the tendons in his neck becoming prominent with tension.

"We've only had her for a couple of months. We just haven't seen her sick yet. Maybe we should …" as she spoke, Cammie darted from the room and her humans scrambled to follow.

Once downstairs, Cammie whined at the lanai door and Steve let her out, he and Catherine following close behind. "She's got the runs, too. Oh, Steve, she's such a good girl. Even sick, she didn't want to go in the house." Catherine's eyes filled with tears. "I'm calling Danny."

Steve looked up. When they reentered the house Cammie sat on the living room throw rug and he squatted on his haunches at her side.

"Danny's got Scout and he knows dogs better than we do, he's had them as an adult. I had dogs as a kid, Mom and Dad took care of them if they got sick." Catherine punched in Danny's speed dial.

"We should go to the vet." Steve announced.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"You think she's seriously sick?" Catherine's eyes widened, her concern growing with Steve's statement.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I … I'm not sure, Cath. I've never evaluated a dog … but … what if she dehydrates?"

Steve looked more concerned than when he himself had been shot and Catherine placed a hand on his arm as she heard the phone pick up. "Danny, It's Cath." She said as their friend's, "What's wrong?!" Came over the speaker.

"Cammie's sick. She's been throwing up and now she's got diarrhea and Steve thinks we should go to the vet right now. You've got a dog so I just …" Catherine was talking quietly, but faster than usual.

"Woah, woah, Hon, slow down. What's she doing?" Danny asked.

"We need to go to the vet." Steve repeated, more to himself than to Danny.

"Steve?" Danny addressed his partner "Tell me what she's doing. Exactly."

"She's lying on the rug." Steve said. "She's sick, Danny."

"I know she's sick, Babe, but how sick? Is she lethargic? Restless?" The voice Danny used to soothe Grace came through the phone.

"No, she's just … sitting here." Steve's eyes never left Cammie.

"Good. That's good. She's breathing okay, right?"

Steve moved to his knees and placed his ear against Cammie's chest to evaluate her breathing. The dog licked his hand and thumped her tail.

Catherine noted Steve's demeanor shift into SEAL mode and his tone grow even calmer, in spite of how worried she knew he was. "It's good. Respiration steady at twenty. Heart rate ninety." His eyes flicked to Catherine and he placed a hand on her thigh when she moved to kneel closer to his side. "That's normal for a dog her size." At Catherine's look he shrugged. "I asked Esther, for when Cammie comes on a swim or run."

"That's good." Danny confirmed. "Look, guys, I know the first time your furry kid has had a tummy ache is nerve wracking, but dogs puke all the time. Did she vomit up anything … odd?"

Steve's voice was still calm but both Catherine and Danny could hear the tension. "Odd, how?"

"Odd like a piece of plastic, a dead animal, a shoe. Odd."

Catherine answered, "No, just her dinner. Maybe the chicken was bad? I just bought it yesterday."

"I'm sure the chicken was fine." He knew where she was going. "This is not your fault; it's nothing you guys did. Trust Uncle Danno on that, okay?" Danny's voice remained steady as he heard retching. "Oh, there she goes again. She hit the rug, didn't she?"

"Yes, how did you …?"

"Because, Babe, you have two rugs in that entire house. Guarantee she puked or pooped on both. They always do. Look, I'm sure she's going to be just fine, but since she's vomited more than twice, run her over to the Animal Emergency Clinic – the one on Hawaii Kai Drive, across from the pizza place. They'll give her something to stop the vomiting and make her comfortable. It'll also put your mind at ease and all three of you will get some sleep."

"That's the place Esther recommended. She left us a card for emergencies." Steve told Danny.

"I took Scout there when he got stung by a jellyfish … which is further proof the water here isn't safe, even for dogs, by the way … they're open twenty four-seven, because, like kids, pets always get sick when the regular vet is closed."

"Got it. That's what, twenty minutes from here?" Catherine was mentally reviewing the route, glad to be able to focus on a plan of action. "The streets will be empty; we'll make it in fifteen …"

"Not the way the animal, the two legged one, drives." Danny joked. "You'll make it in ten. Seriously, guys, she'll be fine. But go check her out; it may be a stomach bug."

"Dogs get those?" Steve sounded doubtful.

"Dogs get everything people get, Steven."

"You really think that's all this is, Danny?"

Danny's voice softened at his best friend's tone. "Hey, hey, you're really are freaked, aren't you? Yes, I absolutely think that's all this is. She'll be fine, Babe, I promise. Do you want me and Grace to meet you guys there?"

Steve ran a hand over his face as Catherine charged upstairs. "No. No. We're good. Don't wake Gracie. Thanks, Danny."

"What are uncles for? Call back if you need me."

"Thank you, Danny!" Catherine returned and took the phone off speaker. She handed Steve a bundle that included a t-shirt, pants, socks and his boots, all of which he put on in record time. She was dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt, her hair in a messy ponytail, purse over her shoulder. The truck keys and Steve's wallet were in her hand. "C'mon, Steve."

Although she was perfectly capable of walking, Cammie didn't protest when Steve hoisted her into his arms and the family of three went out to his truck.

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Animal Emergency Clinic
4:15 a.m.

"Cammie's family?" A vet tech with Tom on his name plaque called into the waiting room where Steve paced like a caged leopard and Catherine perched bolt upright on the edge of a hard plastic chair. They weren't allowed back for the X-rays of Cammie's abdomen. After the initial exam, they were asked to return to the waiting room and told they'd be called as soon as the vet was ready to give them results.

"That's us." Steve crossed the room in three long strides and guided Catherine into the exam area with a hand on the small of her back.

"Doctor Marks will be right with you." The young man smiled and left them.

"Steve?" Catherine stood against the wall near the door while Steve began pacing the parameter of the exam room, fingers gripping his waistband where his badge normally sat. "Steve…"

"What? Sorry. They're taking so long, Cath. What the hell is taking so long? And why couldn't we go in with her? It's not like there's much we haven't seen, in people, anyway."

Catherine pushed away from the wall and moved to slide her hand across his back. "You heard the vet tech, it's because the dogs pick up tension from their owners. She'll be calmer without us back there." She was just as anxious as Steve, but tracing circles on the small of his back in a soothing gesture somehow served to comfort her as well.

"I'm calm."

She gave him a soft smile. "Of course you are. But you're also worried. I am, too, and Cammie can sense that. Here's the vet now."

A fiftyish woman with short blond hair and a ready smile walked in holding a chart. "I'm Doctor Betty Marks. First of all, Cammie is doing well."

Catherine let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and saw Steve visibly relax as he shook the vet's hand while she continued, "What seems to be happening is this: Cammie most likely picked up a stomach bug. Viral, bacterial, they go around. Dogs sniff everything on the ground, as you well know; they come in contact with an airborne illness and boom, tummy ache."

"But she's going to be fine? It's nothing we did? I'm sure she didn't get into anything." Catherine confirmed, her eyes almost pleading. "We're very careful."

"No, no. That's why we did the X-rays. Her gastrointestinal tract is clear of any foreign objects. She's got a little lower G.I. gassiness, typical gastric upset. I've given her two injections. A shot of Pepcid AC that's already calmed her tummy; and an antibiotic, in case it's a bacterial bug, but she should be just fine." She smiled at the couple who didn't realized they were holding hands until the vet's eyes shifted to their tightly clasped, white knuckled fingers.

Wearing identical sheepish grins after following Dr. Marks' eyes, Steve and Catherine each loosened the death grip they'd had on each other enough so their fingers were just comfortably entwined.

Dr. Marks continued, "I wanted to review the instructions with you first, and then I'll have Cammie brought right out. She was very good. We didn't even have to sedate her to do the X-rays."

"She's very good. Even with diarrhea she asked to go outside." Catherine noted with a hint of pride.

"And she's really smart." Steve echoed Catherine's proud tone, and she nodded with a smile.

Dr. Marks grinned her agreement. "That's so nice." She passed a pill bottle to Catherine. "You'll give her this one Pepcid tablet tomorrow morning, just to make sure her tummy's happy, and I'd like you to feed her boiled chicken and rice in three small meals per day for the next three days." She looked at the chart. "Cammie eats twice a day and gets a bedtime snack?"

Catherine and Steve nodded simultaneously; both paying rapt attention. Betty Marks regarded their very intense, concerned faces. "Cammie's your very first dog, isn't she?"

"I had dogs as a kid but never as an adult. Steve's never had a pet before." Not exactly sure why, Catherine added, "We were both career Navy," as an explanation of why Cammie was their first pet.

The seasoned veterinarian smiled at the couple. Even in their clearly disheveled state they made a handsome pair. And more importantly, they didn't seem anything other than completely focused and concerned about their dog; there was no hint of resentment of the late night hospital run, lack of sleep, or extra vet bill.

"She's a lucky girl to have such a concerned mom and dad. Now, when you feed her the chicken and rice, the amount of food in the three meals should equal her normal daily intake; only it'll be divided into three portions instead of two. If she's doing fine, mix in a bit dog food on the fourth day and then get her back to her regular schedule on the fifth. No hard running tomorrow, okay? We don't want to have her gulping large amounts of water at once. I'm confident she'll be one hundred percent by tomorrow night, but if you need us, or anything changes, you call or bring her back in. We're always here."

They nodded in unison. "Thanks Doctor." Steve said. Catherine echoed, "Thank you, so much."

The Doctor left as Tom, the vet tech escorted a perky looking Cammie back in. "Here's your mom and dad, Cammie." He looked up. "She's all ready to go." He handed Catherine the leash as Cammie leapt for Steve, paws at his waist. Catherine buried her face in the soft fur of the dog's neck and kissed her, saying, "C'mon, Pretty Girl, let's go home."

/

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McGarrett/Rollins Residence
Saturday, Noon

"Anybody home?" Danny's voice carried through the house as he used his key. Catherine had told him to let himself in case they were outside with Cammie He smiled when she came into the living room with Esther. "Hi Esther. How are you? Hey, Cath."

"Hi, Detective Williams, how're Scout and Grace?" Esther grinned.

"They're great. How's the book going?"

"Really well, actually. Thanks for asking. I'm just leaving. I heard Cammie had a trip to the ER so I stopped in to see one of my favorite girls." Esther smiled. The Commander and Lieutenant were terrific first time pet parents and when she'd called to check her sitting schedule for the next few days, he'd told her how they'd run Cammie to the ER.

When Esther popped over on her way to pick up two Doberman mixes for a play date, and mentioned how Commander McGarrett sounded a little tired on the phone, Catherine had admitted they'd decided to put Cammie on their bed and take turns sitting up to watch her sleep after getting home at 4:30 a.m.

Neither actually took their turn to sleep until after she'd kept down her first meal of chicken and rice at 6. She seemed fine so they'd allowed her back up on the bed, with Steve insisting it was just more convenient to watch her that way, and all three had gotten a few hours of much needed sleep.

Catherine thanked Esther again at the door, "You're the best. And thanks for the container of boiled chicken." Catherine gave her a hug.

"No problem. I figured it's one less batch you have to make. Even in that fabulous new kitchen. Cammie's a big girl, with her eating nothing but chicken and rice for three days you're gonna burn through a lot of chicken. But she looks great and she's totally fine, did you see how perky she was when she greeted me?"

Catherine nodded happily. "She loves you."

"Aww, I love her, too and no offense, because you're totally gorgeous, but you two look worse than she does. Get some more sleep. Unless the Detective is here to tell you about a case?" Esther looked at Danny.

Danny held up his hands. "Nope. All clear. I'm just on my way back from dropping off Grace at her friend's house." Danny said, "Take care." As Esther stepped through the door and repeated her goodbyes.

When Catherine turned from closing the door and sat on the sofa, motioning him to do the same, Danny smiled. "So, rough night, huh? But my furry niece is feeling better?'

Catherine nodded. "She's good. I'm so sorry we bothered you last night, I just … she was so sick all of a sudden and when Steve suggested the vet I got more worried because …"

"Because SuperSEAL doesn't suggest a doctor for himself unless he's got an eyeball hanging out?"

Catherine shrugged and nodded. She was no better than Steve when it came to that, really, but the feeling of helplessness that came with seeing Cammie sick was like nothing she'd ever experienced before and she wasn't ashamed to admit it. "She looked so … pitiful. It just broke my heart, Danny. But she seems fine today. Steve's out walking her actually, because the vet said no running until tomorrow."

"Sounds familiar. Hey, Cammie," Danny addressed the dog as she bounded up to him, Steve on her heels. "Did you scare these two?"

Catherine bent to hug Cammie, murmuring, "Did you have a nice walk?"

Steve unclipped the leash and dropped it on the coffee table. "Hey. Sorry we woke you last night."

Danny waved the apology away. "Here." He handed Catherine a bag.

"What's this?" She reached inside. "Throw rugs?"

"Throw rugs. Dogs, like I said, never fail to hit the rugs. Doesn't matter if you have wall to wall carpet in every room or one bath rug. They always hit the rug. Toss the old ones, the vomit never really comes out."

Catherine grinned. "Thanks. Stay for lunch?"

"I believe I will. And for the record? You can call me anytime."

Her grin grew into a smile as Steve taunted, "What about me?"

"You, my friend, are gonna be the charger. I can tell."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Steve looked at his partner.

"A charger is the parent who charges into the vet, the ER, the pediatrician and demands instant assistance for a splinter removal."

"I am not." Steve tried to look argumentative but at Danny's last term his eyes flicked to Catherine and his expression just … softened. She wasn't even sure he'd registered it until that second, but a gentle smile lit her eyes.

"Yes, you are, Steven. Yes, you are. Because I called the Animal ER last night, right before you texted to tell me Cammie was okay. The receptionist informed me when I started to describe you two that Commander McGarrett and Lieutenant Rollins had just left with their dog. How did she know your ranks, I pondered, because I doubted you arrived wearing your weapons? And then I was told that a very intense doggy daddy tried to badge his way into X-ray so his dog wouldn't be, and I quote, 'back there all alone and scared.'" Danny smirked at his tough as nails partner's soft spot for his pet.

Catherine's smile grew as Steve insisted "I am not a charger or whatever the hell you called it. Cammie's very attached to us, and I wanted to make sure she was treated appropriately, that's all it was."

"Sure, Babe." Danny scratched Cammie's chin. "Listen, all kidding aside, the first time Grace was fussy I wanted to rush her to the ER. If it wasn't for Nonna and my mom she'd have had a hundred doctor visits in her first year alone. I, my friend, was a charger, and it takes one to know one." He laughed. "Besides, it's good practice for me for when and if there's a pretty little SEAL-pup with hazel eyes dressed in a cammo onesie. First time she gets a teething fever, Uncle Danno will be ready, because someone has to talk you down from the edge."

Steve's mouth twitched up in a grin and Catherine pinked, but the smile she gave Danny was one of genuine affection.

Danny winked at his friends. "Now, let's order some food, because I'm starving. My treat. You've had, what I can promise, is only your first rough night."

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End. Thanks for reading! Mari

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This fic is dedicated all of our furry family members; for the unconditional love they give us every day.

To our guest reviewers, we'd love to thank you personally and be able to respond to your questions. You can always email us at REALMcRoll at yahoo dot com