Steve, Danny and Irene were once again seated in the living room but a whole new kind of tension filled the air, as Irene recounted her first meeting with Jack McGarrett. "Your dad popped by the local tavern one night, said he was in town on business. He seemed a little shell shocked when I first approached his table to take his order but he was sweet and kind. He had a wonderful smile, a lot like yours," Irene added, locking eyes with Steve. "Anyway, after he'd had a few drinks, he told me that I reminded him of someone." She obviously knew who that someone was because she offered up a sad smile for Steve. "He missed her so much, Steve. He just wanted to feel something again."

McGarrett knew she was looking for a response but he was still trying to process the fact that his dad had been romantically involved with a woman other than his mother. It just seemed preposterous to him, and yet... his eyes drifted over to the pictures of Jacob on the mantel. Realizing that Irene wasn't going to continue without some kind of reaction from him, and not really knowing if he even wanted her to continue, Steve nevertheless gave her a curt nod.

Before she was able to proceed with her story, however, Danny stopped her with a question that he hoped would take some of that 'kicked-puppy' look off his partner's face. "How long were the two of you... involved?" Even as the words left his mouth, he prayed his detective instincts would not betray him.

"Romantically?" Her eyes darted to Steve, "Just that night."

Danny and Steve each released a breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. After a brief moment, Steve shot a grateful glance Danny's way for asking the question Steve himself was too afraid to ask, then returned his attention to Irene.

"But you remained friends?"

"To a degree," she admitted. "I think it was too painful for him to be around me much. He felt like he had betrayed not only you and your sister, but also the memory of your mother. But, he knew Jacob was his son and he did his best to keep tabs on him. He even helped out financially until I met Scotty and told him the support was no longer necessary."

"Scotty," Danny asked.

"Yes. Scotty Beckett. A wonderful man. He treated Jacob like he was his own son, even legally adopted him when he was still just a toddler."

This time, when Steve and Danny looked to the mantel, their eyes sought out and found a wedding picture, easy to miss in the maze of Jacob's school pictures but still with its own honourable position in the display.

"Did my dad ever meet..." Steve attempted, stumbling slightly over his words, "I mean, does Jacob know..." The SEAL was having a hard time formulating the words in a way that wouldn't make him sound like a jealous child.

Danny, of course, saved him. "Does Jacob know that Jack McGarrett was his biological father? Did they ever meet?"

"No," Irene admitted. "They never met and I never told Jacob the truth. I was going to tell him. So many times, I was going to tell him. But the time just never seemed right. Then Scotty was deployed to Iraq."

"Is that where he is now," Steve asked, curiosity piqued once again.

Irene's mood changed to one of sadness and regret. "Scotty was killed in action three weeks ago."

Both Five-0 agents were stunned to silence. When she'd said that Jacob lost his father recently and then made the revelation that Jack was the boy's biological father, they had assumed she had been speaking of his death. But, Steve now realized, how could Jacob be mourning the father he'd never known existed?

"Jacob is having a hard enough time dealing with Scotty's death, if I tell him now that Scotty wasn't his real father, I'm afraid that would just break his heart even more than it already has been..." Her voice trailed off as she saw movement from the corner of her eye.

There, standing in the entryway with an oblivious Officer Pete stepping in behind him, was a fourteen year old boy with a black eye and a split lip, most likely from one of the school fights Irene had mentioned him having a penchant for. The markings on his face were overshadowed by the pain in his eyes, however. The kid looked like he'd just had his heart and soul ripped right out of him. Didn't have to be a detective to know that he had heard the tail end of the conversation loud and clear.

"Jacob," Irene said, rising from the couch. Her gaze darted to the clock on the wall, surprised that the afternoon had gone by so fast.

"All this time," he said. "You lied to me all this time?"

"No, Jake, it wasn't like that," she insisted, taking a step toward him.

"Stay away from me!"

"Jacob, please, listen - "

"I hate you," he yelled. "I hate you!" Without another word, angry or otherwise, the boy ran out of the house, down the steps and across the lawn.

Sensing that this wasn't over yet, that Hesse may still have plans for the boy, Steve took off after him, leaving Danny to stop a devastated Irene from following. He had a pretty good idea why McGarrett had gone after Jacob and logic dictated that Irene would be less of a target if she remained inside the house.

"Better to let him vent off a little steam," he suggested.

At first, it seemed as though Irene would ignore his advice and run after her boy, anyway. Instead, she sat heavily on the couch and placed her head in her hands. For long moments, she simply stared at the floor.

"You know," Danny began, placing a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder, "kids say stuff they don't mean, all the time. Especially when they're angry. He'll get over it."

Irene patted his hand with one of her own and gave him a sad smile. "I know he didn't mean what he said, Detective. Unfortunately, that knowledge does nothing to make the words easier to hear."

"It never does," Danny agreed.

"Do you have children, Detective Williams?"

"If I can call you Irene, you can call me Danny. Deal? And, yes, I have a little girl. She's eight."

"That's a good age. Children still have their innocence at that age. But, when they get older, they tend to befriend the wrong types of people, and those people tear their innocence away, force them to grow up faster than they should have to."

"Who has Jacob become friends with, Irene?"

Instead of answering, Irene stared out the window. Danny followed her gaze and saw Steve out on the street trying to talk some sense into a still angry teen. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned back to Irene. Seeing that this was a conversation to be had at a later date, he said, "I should probably get out there. Steve doesn't have a whole lot of experience with kids."

She chuckled dryly. "I'm not sure having experience makes all that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. Some new and uncharted territory always manages to pop up."

"I hear that," Danny laughed, heading for the door. "You wait here, okay? Let the kid take some of his frustration out on us, instead, then we'll bring him back inside."

Reluctantly, she conceded. As he passed Pete, Danny whispered, "Keep an eye on her, Pete. Make sure she stays inside this house."

Pete nodded his understanding, "You know, I always got your back, Danny. Remember Waimea Bay?"

"You promised never to mention that again," the detective chided. Then, shaking his head at Pete's nonchalant shrug, Danny stepped outside to join Steve in his 'negotiations'.

H50H50H50

As he made his way across the lawn, Danny couldn't help but grin. Steve was still out on the street, blocking Jacob's path while trying not to look like he was blocking Jacob's path. Huh. Maybe the guy knew more about kids than Danny had given him credit for.

H50H50H50

"Just, please, come inside so we can discuss this," Steve said, forcing himself not to just throw the kid over his shoulder and carry him back into the house. That wouldn't accomplish much. Though, at this point, it would feel pretty darn good. This kid was a real piece of work. Stubborn as... Steve grinned... stubborn as a McGarrett. The grin didn't last long, however - Steve still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea that his father had had a kid with someone other than his mom.

"Who are you, anyway?" The kid's words wheedled their way through Steve's thoughts and brought him back to the present. One issue at a time, McGarrett.

"I'm, uh..." your brother? "I'm a friend of your mom's. And she's really worried about you."

"Yeah, whatever. She shouldn't have lied to me," Jacob said bitterly, making a move to brush past McGarrett, who, in turn, unobtrusively blocked the kid's path in a very SEAL-like manner.

"Come on inside, kid. It would mean a lot to your mom."

"You think I care what she wants, right now?" At that moment, he glanced past Steve, saw the other, shorter guy heading towards them. Great, now I'll have two jerks to deal with... and, dude, what's with the tie? His thoughts were interrupted when he saw his mom, standing just inside the door, watching him. The fact that he wanted nothing more than to run to her. to forgive her, just made him that much angrier. How could she have done this to him? He trusted her! Then he saw the anguish on her face... okay, he didn't so much see it as he felt it. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll go inside." He took a step toward the house...

BOOM!

TBC

A/N Okay. Even I thought this was a very cruel cliffie... Two in a row? Seriously? But the final scene of this chapter is the scene I pictured in my head when I first decided to write this sequel, and I always pictured it as the end of a chapter, hence this installment being a bit shorter than the previous two chapters. Sorry. And an extra special apology for this cliffhanger goes out to PureHalo. Forgive? Question now is... will y'all come back for more? *mischievous grin* ~Kelcor