Trouble

Summary: Just how much trouble can Steve get into during one tiny reserve drill?

Pairings: Steve/Cath, minor Kono/Adam, Chin/Malia

Warnings: unbeta-ed

Chapter 3

Captain Swanson used one hand to rub circles across his temple in an attempt to keep calm under the onslaught of chaos and bitter fighting he was expecting. Commander McGarrett had not struggled in the MPs' grip, merely demanded to know what it was they believed they were doing. His new JAG had informed the SEAL of the accusations that had arisen against him with grim determination, as well as a certain glee that worried the Captain. McGarrett had thereupon asked the man if he was mad, and set his jaw stubbornly. He had allowed the two MPs to lead him away to the brig, all the while Lieutenant Rollins had protested against the whole situation. She'd repeatedly assured the men hauling her friend off, then Vucovik and finally himself that she had most certainly not been assaulted or forced in any way.

"Sir, it's not that I don't commend Lieutenant Commander Vucovik for his initiative, but this whole situation is ridiculous," Lieutenant Rollins pleaded with him. "With all due respect, sir, don't you think I'd have called the MP myself if what the Commander suspects were actually true."

"Lieutenant, we've all heard your statement," Swanson attempted to placate her. He cast her a stern gaze when he saw her open her mouth to interrupt him. The young woman pressed her lips together, and inclined her head in an unspoken apology. She was wringing her hands on the table, he thought they might be sweaty. Her face was pale and worried, and there was something in her her eyes that she wasn't saying. A quick glance at his JAG told him that he saw it too. Captain Swanson cursed McGarrett and Rollins up one side and down the other in the privacy of his own mind. In the short time since he'd been introduced to Vucovik, he'd learned that the man was like a pitbull; if he found a weakness in your defense, something he could attack, he would sink his teeth into it and not let go. Catherine Rollins was hiding something, meaning that McGarrett was hiding something, and the lawyer had already tasted blood. This would get a whole lot worse, before it got better, and Swanson didn't think that anyone of them would come away with their secrets intact.

"Sir?", Vucovik prompted.

Swanson nodded.

"Lieutenant Rollins, as a JAG I'm entitled, hell, duty-bound to investigate any possible sex offense."

"And I'm telling you, sir, as the purported victim, there was no offense," Rollins insisted firmly.

"And I'm sure the judge will consider that at the Article 32 hearing; he and Commander McGarrett's counselor are already on their way."

Rollins' hands turned to fists on the table.

"Lieutenant, we've heard your statement. We won't keep you any longer," the Captain intervened, before worse could happen.

"Yes, sir," the young Lieutenant replied as she rose to leave. Once the door had closed behind her, the Captain turned toward his new JAG.

"Do you really see a necessity to pursue this in an Article 32 hearing, Commander? Lieutenant Rollins has repeatedly stated that she wasn't raped. I'm not sure how an Article 32 is supposed to create more clarity on the matter."

"Sir," the Commander began calmly, placing his hands on the table for emphasis, "Lieutenant Rollins would hardly be the first woman to cover for an abusive boyfriend, and it's not just the assault either. He's her superior. For all we know Rollins has been coerced into this situation. In any case, their relationship is in violation of Article 92 (I'm not sure it's the right one, because I found two different sources on the matter). As far as their clandestine meeting last night is concerned, it is a violation of Article 133. I have to pursue this."

"They were sitting together in the fantail, Vucovik. It's not like they were making out in a supply closet," Commander Taylor reminded him.

"And are you sure they haven't done that? For that matter, if they were just sitting and talking, what was Commander McGarrett doing on his knees in front of the Lieutenant? What else might he have done in the past?"

"And how are you going to prove it? I think that's the more interesting question," the doctor commented. He rubbed his hand over his face tiredly, then extended it in front of him towards their Captain in a helpless gesture. "That's assuming that there is anything to prove. Maybe the Commander found kneeling more comfortable. Unless you are suggesting that he was proposing to her, I don't see his actions as conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, and even a SEAL wouldn't propose in the fantail of all places. The man lives in paradise for Christ's sake."

Vucovik sighed.

"Let me worry about proving my case to the judge, sir." His face was determined, and suddenly both his doctor and his JAG were looking at the Captain expectantly. Swanson wanted to turn back time, wanted to ignore the whole thing until it went away; more than anything, though, he wanted another coffee. It was too early in the goddamn morning to decide a good man's fate without liters of coffee in his system.

"Why aren't you prosecuting Lieutenant Rollins? Wouldn't she be guilty of the same offenses?"

"As I said, sir, she might have been coerced by Commander McGarrett. There is, at this time, little point in pursuing both officers. McGarrett holds seniority in rank and years of service, so he has to be the first on whom I place my focus. The judge's decision will decide the future course of action for the Lieutenant."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Commander, you could destroy a good man's carrier," the Captain said, dismissing him. The young JAG left with a nod of respect, and he was barely out the door when the Captain saw a cover sail across the room. His attention was drawn to his doctor, who looked at him none too kindly. His you-gotta-be-kidding-me expression would have gotten him in trouble if the two of them hadn't known each other so long. He appreciated the man's integrity and honesty, which he displayed even when it was Swanson himself, who had crossed a line in the Commander's eyes. "Just spit it out, Taylor, before it eats you up from the inside."

"Are you freaking kidding me, Swanson?!"

"Language!", the Captain warned.

"Rape?!", the Commander went on, undeterred. "Have you seen McGarrett's injuries? 'Cause I have, and he's got the worse deal of the two. Not that he doesn't wear them with a certain pride in his 'accomplishments'. And their relationship – Vucovik's gotta be joking."

"He is, technically, her superior."

"They are not part of the same command chain. Hell, McGarrett's in the reserve, and even before that, they usually weren't even on the same bloody continent! To construe an unprofessional relationship from that, is... it's-"

The Captain got up.

"What do you want me to do?!", he asked, frustrated. "They spend their leave together, sharing living accommodations, and go out when they're off duty. Or at least they do the next-best thing they can on a freaking aircraft carrier by meeting up in the fantail. I don't even want to know what they were talking about out there, but I doubt it was the weather. They flirt and sleep with each other, and that's more or less the definition of an unprofessional relationship."

"In that case, you ought to bring half of the crew up on charges," the doctor muttered.

"Don't you think I know that? I know you can't share a deployment on a carrier without getting attached to your colleagues, making friends and such, and you certainly can't put two-hundred women on a boat with two-thousand male sailors and expect there not to be any flirting. Unfortunately, the regulations are still in place, and our resident JAG has decided to implement a course of action according to them. I can't order him to back off, because it's his bloody job, and it would show favoritism. What am I supposed to do?"

Commander Taylor sighed.

"Let it run its course, I suppose. There isn't really much you can do, is there?"

"No, not really."

"Then let's hope Vucovik doesn't find any of the alleged past transgressions he talked about. Maybe he'll get bored, and everything can go back to normal."

"He may not be very likable, but he's a decent lawyer. I'm sure he's already got something."

"I was afraid you were gonna say that."

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(Brig)

The MP guy on duty had had certain qualms to let her into the room with the man who had supposedly raped her. She had made her way directly there, once they had thrown her out of the conference room, so when the MP told her that, she'd brushed past him without another word. The man didn't make a move to stop her, perhaps her expression had dissuaded him. Realizing he couldn't get her to drop it, he made half a move to open the door for her, but a withering glare had him stand back at attention. Catherine knew she wasn't making any friends here, but right now she couldn't care less. Steve was lying with his back to the door when she entered. He looked over his shoulder at the noise, then stood up quickly when he saw it was her.

"Cath."

"Hey, how are you holding up?", she asked softly as she approached the cell. A diminutive cage really, hardly even adequate to house a dog, but there just wasn't that much space on an aircraft carrier. She stepped as close to the bars as she could, and, on the other side, Steve instinctively did the same. Her hands wrapped around the bars, and his in turn moved to cover them. His warmth seeped into her fingers, and Catherine briefly closed her eyes to savor it. Then she set her gaze squarely on him.

"I'm fine, Cath."

She chuckled.

"Let's try that again, and this time with honesty."

"Okay," he sighed back at her stubbornness. "I'm in a tiny cell, accused of a serious crime for which my fellow sailors look at me like I'm a monster, and I'm probably facing court-martial and dishonorable discharge, at best. Other than that, I'm fine."

"Have they given you your call yet?", Catherine asked in a subdued tone.

"Don't need it." At her raised eyebrow, he elaborated. "They're gonna call a JAG lawyer anyway. I've been told they are already on their way."

Catherine frowned.

"What about Danny?"

"...What about him?" The minute hesitation had Catherine snap to attention. She knew something was up from the way he shifted sideways, and wouldn't meet her eyes. When she focused, she could see a sadness in them, and guilt she'd thought she had gotten rid off, and a hint of fear too. She cocked her head wondering what he could be afraid of, before it hit her like a ton of bricks, and she stood, disbelieving, as he continued. "The Navy will inform the governor of this... predicament. Denning will, no doubt, suspend me, and put Danny or Chin in charge."

"Don't you think they deserve to hear it from you? They're your friends, Steve, they'll know it's not true. They're ohana; they'd never leave you hanging."

"What am I supposed to tell them, Cath?"

"The truth, as opposed to the version Vucovik will spread."

"What is the truth, though?" He sounded almost defeated. He walked away from the bars, raising his hands to cover his face tiredly. Catherine moved her own hands to rub soothing circles over her temples; she had a feeling they were about to repeat a previous conversation. She gritted her teeth at the thought that Steve apparently hadn't taken her words at face value. Damn his stupid sense of honor.

"I told you to stop that, Steve. I'm not disgusted with you, why can't you be cool with this too?"

"I wish I could, but I... I'm sorry, Cath. I swear it's not like I don't believe you, it's just... This is not how I have been brought up to treat women. Cath, what I did... The thought of hurting you, of having hurt you. It doesn't matter that you wanted it, I was out of line."

"Yeah, because I'm such a delicate soul, I can't possibly want to have a good fuck with you," she growled, and heard Steve take in a breath. For someone who must be deaf to swear words after all the years in the Navy, he sure listened to her when she was the one using them. It was like a wake up call; it drew his attention, because she so rarely did that. "You were exactly the way I wanted you, Steve."

She passed a hand through the bars to cradle his face, and make him look at her again. She used her grip as leverage to pull him closer to the bars again, until he was sure to feel her sweet breath waft across his lips. His gaze fell to her mouth, momentarily distracted by her proximity, then rose back to her eyes. He licked his lips as he pressed ever closer; he could almost taste her, he was close enough to touch her, and she wasn't flinching away from him, and her eyes didn't question his humanity. Their noses touched as they had the first morning she'd spent in his house, and Steve could almost hear the waves in the background.

"I wanted you, Steve. I still do, and I'd have you right here if the bars weren't in my way," Catherine whispered, the promise in her voice burning through his blood until his breaths came out in little pants.

"And if you wouldn't both be court-martialed for it instantly," a voice commented from the entryway. They sprung apart hastily, then relaxed a little when they noticed that it was only Mick. "Jesus Christ, I know you two exist in your own little world when you're alone, and that you spend most of that time in Steve's bed, but could you postpone the sex talk. Any one could walk in here at any given moment."

The two flushed a bright red, but didn't move further apart then necessary, their hands intertwined around the bars again.

"Hey, I've just heard. Are you alright?", Mick questioned them.

"No, I've got a few hickeys, and everybody is running around like headless chickens, including Steve," Catherine complained, then pleaded. "Could you please talk to him. He listens to you; set him straight."

"I thought I already had," Mick replied thoughtfully, and bit his tongue when he realized what he'd just let slip. Catherine's eyes were stormy when he looked at her. She scoffed at no one in particular, and raised her hands jerkily in surrender.

"Thanks, Mick," Steve grumbled.

"Kitten," Mick started, but she cut him off.

"I don't believe it. I'll leave you two men to talk, 'cause obviously I'm wasting my time here." Then she stormed out. Steve tried to grab her, and called for her repeatedly in an attempt to halt her in her tracks, but she ignored him. She was livid.

"Let her go," Mick recommended. "Give her some time to cool off."

"Yeah, but... she-"

"I'll go after her in a minute, I just have one more thing to say. I warned you that you would create a problem where there wasn't one if you didn't let it go. Why couldn't you just let it go?"

"You haven't seen her, you haven't seen the extend of... what I did to her. I know she was on board with all of it, but..."

"It's not you."

"...No. Go after her, please, I don't want her to be alone right now. She needs you."

"No, she needs you. I'll go now, just one thing; I told you so," he said it with a grin, and Steve couldn't help but grin back. "She'll get over it. She'll be back here with you sooner than you can miss her."

"Too late."

"Dude," Mick laughed at him on his way out. "Your girlfriend's got you whipped."

"She's not my girlfriend," Steve said automatically. Mick rolled his eyes at him as he stopped at the door to reply.

"You know, you keep saying that, Smooth Dog, and I keep hearing 'she's so much more'."

With that, he turned to leave.

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Mick joined Catherine outside the brig. She'd wandered just a few steps down the hall, and was leaning against the wall silently fuming. Mick swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and reminded himself that SEALs weren't afraid of anything, certainly not of petite dark-haired women who packed a mean punch and called it a love tab, before he approached her. He knew she'd noticed him when he saw her tense up, but she didn't directly acknowledge him. Sighing, Mick cleared his throat to get her attention. When she looked up at him, her gaze was daunting. The taller man wanted to shrink back, usher her into the brig, and let Smooth Dog deal with his enraged girlfriend himself, but he'd made a promise, and he'd never go back on it.

"I'm sorry, Kitten."

"Not your fault. You tried. It's Steve who doesn't listen, ever. Stupid, stupid, stupid," she growled out frustrated.

"I know, Kitten, but it just means he cares."

"Or that he doesn't care enough. Why can't he just take me at my word. I swear to God I'll punch him if I ever hear him say... that again. Why won't he just believe me, dammit!"

"Because he... Oh God, whatever! Because he loves you, even if he's too thick to just come right out and say it. You should have seen him after you left. He was in a right panic. Catherine, to see you hurt because of him, he can't bear it; is that such a bad thing?"

"No," Catherine conceded. "I told him time and again, though, that it's okay."

"I know, and he believes you; he just doesn't think he deserves to, and it's not like you can prove him wrong at the moment – although I think that comment about getting reacquainted in the brig did a pretty good job."

That had her blush bright scarlet.

"Just forget you ever heard that."

"Can't, you said it, now it's ingrained in my brain as one of the top ten things I never wanted to hear my little sister say."

"Sorry," she mumbled almost inaudibly.

"It's okay, now let's go call his task force."

They made their way through the maze of corridors quietly until they reached the phone. There was already a young Seaman on the phone with his girl back home, judging by the soft whisper-like tone of his voice and the color in his cheeks. Catherine leaned back against the wall, ready to await her turn, but Mick didn't have that kind of patience. He, too, leaned against the wall, but directly in front of the poor Seaman, who quickly cut his call short, and left them alone in the hallway. Mick gave her a self-satisfied smirk that didn't even leave his face when she warned him about getting into trouble for harassment. She couldn't help but feel a little grateful, too. She was full of nervous energy. Her stomach fluttered uncomfortably at having to tell Danny about what had happened. There was no way around it, though. It was unthinkable to let Danny, Chin and Kono find out through someone else. She heard the free line signal a couple of times, and twisted the cord nervously around her finger.

"Unknown number, huh? Hey, sailor, do you miss me already? Or are you just calling about your house, 'cause it's fine. I'm taking good care of-"

"Hi, Danny," Catherine chimed in, before he could really go off on one of his famous rants.

"Catherine?", Danny asked surprised. "I'll be honest. I didn't expect you to call."

"Yeah, neither did I," she replied wistfully. "Listen, Danny, this isn't a social call. It's about Steve."

"What's wrong? Is he hurt? Did SuperSEAL capsize or something?"

"Not exactly, Danny." Catherine took a deep breath to steady herself. She sniffed a little. "Okay, I hope you're sitting right now, because here goes nothing."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Steve came to pick me up for reserve duty, and we still had a couple of hours to kill, so we-"

"I get the picture," Danny piped up sarcastically, "but I don't see how that-"

"No, Danny, you don't get it. This time was different. We played rough, really rough, and now Steve's being held on charges of sexual assault."

There was a moment of terse silence between them, then she could hear him gasp for breath. She glanced at Mick, who looked worriedly at her. He placed a hand on her shoulder for support, when he noticed that her grip on the phoned turned a little tighter. She was growing pale; Danny's immediate reaction did not bode well for what she could expect next. Perhaps Steve had been right to worry about his partner's response after all. Catherine had only spoken with Danny a few times, but the way Steve had described him to her, she'd expected something else.

"Sexual assault?!", Danny screeched into the phone, loud enough that Mick must have surely heard it. "How could you two let it get that far? How did the Navy even find out? Did you two parade around naked or something?! Jesus, it's so like Steve to get himself into trouble for some stupid Barry White! He-"

Catherine had tried calling his name to get him to calm down a few times, but he'd just kept ranting. Her grip on the phone turned vice-like, her knuckles completely white, and she was trembling. Catherine felt close to tears; she knew her eyes were shining. Mick noticed this, and took the receiver from her with a strong hand. She could still hear Danny ranting when Mick brought it to his ear, but she couldn't make out the words as she wiped at her eyes to prevent herself from actually crying.

"Shut your mouth a moment, Detective," Mick told the man on the other end of the line, then paused briefly to listen to Danny's answer. "I'm Lieutenant j.g. Michael Storm, I'm one of Steve's team mates, and if I tell him that you've made his woman cry, he'll kick your ass when he gets out of this mess."

Catherine pulled the receiver into a position between them. Mick spared her a quick glance as Danny apologized.

"Don't apologize to me, but to her. She can hear you now."

"I'm sorry, Catherine," Danny repeated meekly.

"It's okay, Danny. I get it."

"No, it's not okay, Danny," Mick protested. "Don't let her tell you differently."

Catherine glared at Mick, who just shrugged.

"How did this happen, Catherine?", Danny asked more calmly.

"We have a new JAG on board; I don't know why, but he seems to have it out for Steve somehow. There'll be an Article 32 hearing, and only if that goes through, are we'll really in trouble. Not that an Article 32 hearing isn't enough to worry about. They're flying in another JAG and a judge to preside over the hearing and-"

"Okay, slow down. You lost me at jagg, what's a jagg? And an Article 32?"

"Oh, right, sorry. JAG is an acronym; it stands for Judge Advocate General. It's a corps in the Navy that provides judicial services. We call Navy lawyers JAGs," Catherine explained.

"An Article 32 is a hearing at which the cases of prosecution and defense are first laid out before a judge, so that they can decide whether or not the defendant will face a court-martial."

"Okay, so Steve is not being court-martialed right now?"

"No, and he won't if the judge rules in his favor."

"How long will this take?"

"Don't know, Danny," Catherine sighed. "It could take any number of days. He won't make it back in time. The governor will probably be informed shortly."

"Great, just great. What can I do to help?"

Catherine and Mick exchanged a look.

"Just keep Oahu safe, Danny. That's what Steve would want."

"And why isn't he telling me this himself? Don't you get a phone call in the Navy?"

Catherine licked her lips. She'd asked herself that.

"I think he's ashamed, Danny. He feels responsible for all of this and guilty, and I think he's somewhat afraid of how you might react. He's afraid you'll think less of him. Your opinion matters, Danny." She saw someone approaching out of the corner of her eye and nearly dropped the receiver when she realized who. She could feel Mick shift behind her uneasily as Lieutenant Commander Vucovik came to a halt next to her. Catherine barely heard Danny's reply.

"Guess I didn't react too well when you told me, so... Tell him I have his back, okay. We all do."

She nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see it, then told him she had to go and hung up rather abruptly as Vucovik beckoned her to follow him.

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(Five-0 HQ)

Danny walked out of his office into the main room, where Chin and Kono were discussing where to grab a bear. They looked up at him when he walked into the room, and his disgruntled expression must have worried them, because Chin immediately asked what was wrong. Danny jerked forward, then paced back and force a little, occasionally pausing to open his mouth to speak, except every time he tried it would get stuck in his throat. Chin and Kono exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised, then Kono went over to Danny and struck him forcefully on the back.

"Better?"

"Has nobody taught you that violence isn't the answer," Danny sputtered. "Steve got himself arrested on the Enterprise for some rough Barry White he had with Catherine just prior to their transportation to the gulf."

"Wait, what?!", the cousins asked after the words had tumbled out of Danny's mouth at lightning speed.

Before Danny could come up with an adequate explanation, the door to the main area opened for the governor. The mainland detective figured that Catherine had been right in assuming that Denning would be informed shortly, because the man bore a face as long as a fiddle. He stalked up to the computer table around which the members of his task force had grouped himself. He was alone, for once not accompanied by his personal assistant, body guards and what not.

"You're still here, good. I have some unfortunate news for you. Commander McGarrett is being detained on the Enterprise on serious charges, such as sexual assault, engaging in an unprofessional relationship and conduct unbecoming."

"How can you be accused of having and unprofessional relationship and rape?", Kono grunted incredulously.

"I realize that you have been an officer of the law for only a few years, Officer Kalakaua, but I'm sure you've heard of the date rape phenomenon," the governor replied tersely. Kono quickly looked away to hide her scowl, and bit her lip so she wouldn't get into trouble for some of the choice words she might say to Denning.

"McGarrett would never – Sir, that's ludicrous," Chin interjected.

"Be that as it may, I have been informed that there will be an Article 32 hearing to see if there's enough evidence against the Commander to forward this case to a court-martial. I have no choice but to suspend Commander McGarrett, pending the decision of the judge in this hearing, or later at the court-martial, and place you in charge, Lieutenant Kelly."

"Sir, you can't do that. This is Steve's team-"

"No, it is my team, and I can't keep a suspected sex offender in charge of it," the governor declared harshly. He held up a hand when everyone made to protest. "It's already done. The only other choice would be to temporarily disband Five-0, and the task force is having too good an effect in the fight against crime. I'm sorry, but this is the only way."

He turned to leave.

"No, it's not," Danny told him boldly. "You could support McGarrett instead, stick up for your man. You know he didn't assault anyone, you know Steve never would, no matter what you think of him personally."

Denning sighed as he turned around to face his angry task force.

"Unfortunately, Detective, I don't have any proof, and I can't just ignore this."

"You want proof?!", Danny challenged him harshly. "I just spoke to Catherine, his supposed victim, and she said it's complete bull, that the JAG has it out for Steve or something. I mean, as the suspected victim, wouldn't she know if she'd been raped?!"

"Well, they must have reason not to believe her, and barring that charge, there's still the unprofessional relationship and the conduct unbecoming that the Commander will have to answer for."

He left behind a thoughtful task force when he left. The others briefly gave voice to this possibility, but ruled it out very quickly. They'd only ever met Catherine once or twice, but she certainly didn't strike them as someone who'd go back for more once abused. She'd have started this investigation herself if Steve had tried anything untoward. Danny relayed the message he'd received from Catherine, word for word, earning himself some glares when he retold his immediate reaction. Then he suggested they do their jobs until Steve returned, as Catherine had said he'd want them to.

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(JAG office)

He offered her a seat in his office. She wanted to refuse but knew he'd only insist, even pull rank on her. If he wanted this conversation to happen, he would get it. He was within his rights to question any victim or witness on board this ship. To an extent, even the Captain had to make time for him and back him up – as the very fact that they were having an Article 32 hearing proved splendidly. She swallowed the lump in her throat and cleared it. This was about the last place she wanted to be. When he moved to close the hatch, she asked him to keep it open. There was no way she would stay in this room alone with him and his secretary, or whatever the young Ensign typing away on his laptop at the other table was. Vucovik acquiesced her request much to her surprise. He gave her a kindly smile as he also handed her a cup of coffee she hadn't asked for. She thought about refusing that, too, but didn't want to be rude and destroy what could be her only chance to get him to shelve the charges.

"Help me understand something, Lieutenant," he began gently.

"If I can, sir."

"How long have you known Commander McGarrett?"

"About eight years, sir. We met in 2002 in Coronado."

"And how long have you two been seeing each other?" Vucovik's kindly smile didn't leave his face, but Catherine now perceived it more as disquieting. She pressed her cover in her hands, which she had taken off upon walking into the office. Now it made for a nice stress relief, taking the brunt of her uncertainty and frustration.

"That's a bit complicated, sir. We didn't exactly... Commander Mc-"

"This isn't court, Lieutenant. Given the personal nature of your relationship, you may call him Steve if you like."

You may not, she wanted to say but resisted. He was taking too many liberties with their relationship already. She didn't need him to play the role of friend and confidant; he was neither. She lightly bit her tongue as the thoughts raced through her head, and kept them inside the privacy of her own mind. What he would have done with her opinions if they had been revealed to him, she did not wish to contemplate.

"Commander McGarrett and I shared a casual relationship for years. He was always my best friend."

"With benefits," Vucovik corrected. "It's more than that now, though, isn't it."

"I would say so, sir."

"Wouldn't he?", the lawyer immediately fired back as if he had hit a weakness in her defense and wanted to see if he could slip past it by exploiting said weakness. Catherine smiled sweetly, happy to reassure him.

"Quite," she replied seriously. He held her stare for a moment, before moving on as if nothing had happened.

"According to the medical report, you have sustained substantial bruising which you claim derives from private interaction with the commander. Interaction of a sexual nature. Does that happen often?"

Catherine sputtered, outraged. She gritted her teeth and, as her lips were stilled pulled back from her previous smile, it must have looked as if she were baring her fangs at him. She quickly schooled her features, though her heart rate was at a hundred miles a minute and her body was almost entirely taken over by the adrenaline rush that accompanied her fury.

"Are you asking me how often we have sex, sir?"

Vucovik chuckled, obviously pleased to have caught her off guard.

"Of course not; that would be harassment – and completely irrelevant to this case. I want to know if you get bruises from your sexual interaction with the commander on a regular basis."

"No, sir."

"That makes it more forgivable, then?"

Catherine wanted to strangle him for the implication.

"There is nothing to forgive, sir. He didn't do anything wrong."

Vucovik had taken out a pen and a notepad at the beginning of her interview, presumably to take notes, but all he'd done with it so far was twirl the pen around while the notepad lay uselessly in his lap. He continued to stare at her blankly for a few minutes, twirling the pen as she held his gaze, then he stood abruptly to turn away from her and put the notepad and pen back onto the desk from whence they came.

"Pity, I'd hoped you could help me understand." He turned back around to her. "I could have helped you more easily then. Now, I guess, we'll have to do this the hard way. I ordered a more thorough examination of your injuries, including internal fissures. Commander Taylor awaits you."

Catherine didn't say another word when he dismissed her.

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(Brig)

When the door opened again, Steve was on his feet in an instant. Then his vision caught up with his preoccupied brain, and he realized that it wasn't Catherine who came in. This woman had dark hair too, but she was smaller. Her face revealed her Asian heritage, and she wore no smile on it. She approached him in his cell with a measuring look. She was a full bird Commander, and Steve automatically stood a little straighter. She waved the MP away, who'd stuck his head in to ask her if she'd be okay, before turning back to him and motioning for him to sit down on his cot. Steve noticed the briefcase she'd brought with her for the first time, when she took a note pad and a pen from it.

"Commander McGarrett, I'm Commander Jade Lou from JAG. I've been assigned as your legal council for the upcoming Article 32 hearing. Have you been informed of the charges?", she asked kindly as she held a hand out for Steve to shake. The SEAL nodded as he did just that. "Would you like to make a statement in regards?"

"I'm innocent," he suggested in a lax tone, "but I suppose that's what everybody says. I guess you have something more specific in mind, ma'am."

The Commander nodded.

"How about I'll lay out my case for you, and you jump in with the details?"

"Works for me, ma'am."

"Alright. Lieutenant Commander Vucovik has you detained here under charges of sexual assault, having an unprofessional relationship with a subordinate and conduct unbecoming. From what I have been told, your supposed victim and partner are one and the same." She looked through her notes briefly. "A Lieutenant Catherine Rollins. The charge against your relationship with her would imply that there was some kind of romantic or sexual involvement before or after the alleged assault, is that correct?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the term 'victim' in relation to Catherine. She was a strong woman, and nobody's victim, certainly not his. He may not be proud of the way he'd acted, but he would never depict her as some weakly puppet on his strings. He nodded mutely at the Commander, for which she gave him a stern look, informing him that she needed more from him than just silent participation. Steve cleared his throat; this wasn't going to come over his lips easily. His relationship with Catherine had always had a 'don't ask, don't tell' character for the Navy. Pretty much everyone around them knew, yet nobody ever said a word, so everyone, including their superiors, could deny any and all knowledge in regard.

"Lieutenant Rollins and I have been... seeing each other for a while."

"How long is a while, Commander?"

"Seven... or, actually, closer to eight years now."

"So you're admitting to the this charge," the lawyer asked challengingly.

"No! We weren't part of the same chain of command, we always kept it separate from work. Of course we didn't... Who's side are you on?!", Steve barked, jumping to his feet and pacing back and forth in his tiny cage.

"Yours, Commander, but Commander Vucovik will no doubt ask you the same question, and you better show a more controlled reaction than this," she warned him, and Steve sat back down with a flushed face. She was right; he couldn't let Vucovik catch him off guard like this. It wouldn't well for either him or Catherine. "I take it that despite her many and diverse injuries, you didn't force yourself on her."

Steve tried to swallow the ire and bile that rose in him at the accusation. He'd thought much the same of himself when he'd first laid eyes on Catherine, but he'd soon overcome that. He wasn't happy with all the pain he must have caused, but he knew she'd been on board with him. Every harsh caress, every pant, every scream of hers had served as proof. Heck, she'd thrown him over and ridden him when he was going too slow for her taste. He had been beside himself, and didn't know for sure what he would have done if she'd refused him, but she hadn't and they'd had one of the wildest, craziest rides of their lives, and he was reasonably sure that they'd unintentionally informed the whole neighborhood of this. No, he hadn't raped her, and for his own lawyer to imply that he had, even as a test, was making his blood temperature rise to dangerous new levels.

"I would sooner cut off my own hand than do that to Cath, Commander, to any woman," he replied stonily.

"And she will confirm this?"

"She confirmed it all the way from the fantail to the Brig while Vucovik was reading me my rights, so I'm mildly surprised that he hasn't dropped that charge-"

"He says that the Lieutenant is hardly the first woman to cover for an abusive boyfriend."

"I did not abuse her," Steve declared again, and only just bit down on his usual answer to the relationship terminology. It would leave too much to explain, and he didn't have the patience. Besides, he wanted Catherine to be the first to which he spoke of the extent of his feelings for her; anything else would hollow out the importance of declaring himself to her – not that he was doing a very good job, considering that he'd been carrying those three words with him for eighteen months.

"When did your relationship start?"

"I told you-"

"Not the exact date, Commander, but you already knew that," the JAG woman cut him off impatiently. "You two worked together in Intelligence about eight years ago. Did it start then?"

"No," Steve answered a little to quickly. He realized it himself, even without the look he got from his lawyer.

"I'm on your side," Commander Lou told him. "Everything we say is protected by lawyer-client confidentiality. I won't be running to Vucovik to tell him all your dirty secrets, Commander, but I'd prefer not to be blindsided if he somehow finds out on his own, so I'll ask you again; did it start then?"

Steve stood up to pace again. Eventually he leaned against the bars to the adjacent cell, and raised his hands to his head to rub over his face. He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd never told anyone this, not even his own team, and now it might be forced out into the open because of some stupid hickeys, as Catherine had called them. If he got out of this, he'd handle her like a porcelain doll, he vowed silently, at least when he was about to join her for his reserve duty.

"Okay... okay," Steve said taking a deep breath. "We didn't start our relationship until my time with Intelligence was done. We... uh... ended up in bed after my going away party. It was my last day, and we had already all clocked out, and Catherine took me home. After that, we more or less fell into the routine of meeting up when we could have leave, and spend the time together – and yes, mostly in bed, and sometimes we didn't even make it there, happy?!"

"There was nothing before that night? Or after during any time when it shouldn't have been," The Commander looked skeptical.

"Nothing serious." The words were almost inaudible. If the MP had come through that door any earlier...

"Let me be the judge of that. I will defend you to the best of my ability, but you're the one who needs to fight back."

Steve chuckled.

"You sound a bit like her. That's something she would say."

"I'll take that as a compliment; would she call you out on your stalling tactics too?"

"Yes, she would."

"Good, then stop stalling and tell me."

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(Quarters, later that day)

She had tried to read, to nap and to meditate but Catherine just couldn't shake the turmoil Steve's arrest had provoked or the conversation she'd had with Vucovik hours before. So now, even though work had been exhausting that day, the lieutenant was wide awake and revved up despite the late hour. Having given up on any attempt to sleep on it, Catherine had gone over to pacing the small, frankly suffocating space of the quarters she shared with Trish while airing her grievances loudly. Trish was listening patiently from where she was perched on the top bunk as her friend ranted and raved about her misfortune.

"It's unbelievable how everyone's done a one-eighty. Everyone in the Navy liked Steve, respected him, and, you know, we've had to struggle to get to where we are, but our colleagues always backed us up," Catherine screeched angrily. "But when I came back here, everyone I passed just looked at me like I was infectious or something. They won't look me in the eye when they talk to me, they stammer and if one more person asks me if I'm doing alright, I might explode!"

"You might anyway if you don't take a break," Trish commented. "Breathe, Catherine."

"Fenn on the other hand is being a hardass-"

"More than usual?"

"He received a call earlier at work, and has watched me like a hawk ever since, it's disquieting. I can't seem to breathe from the oppressive stares. Frankly, I'm getting claustrophobic. And that's not even accounting for Vucovik and his assumptions. He kept insinuating that Steve abused me, and all I wanted was to punch him in the face, but every time I looked at him, there was this gleam in his arm. I think making me out to be some powerless victim is just part of his plan; he doesn't actually believe that."

She continued to pace back and forth in front of their bunks as Trish straightened out to let her legs dangle over the edge. Her face had taken on an inquisitive look.

"Wait, you think he's fabricating this idea of you as a victim. What for? It can't be just to go after Steve, what good would that do him?"

Catherine shrugged helplessly.

"Big case like this – it would certainly boost his career." Trish scrunched up her face as she suggested it. The mere thought was distasteful. "But to go to such length just to climb the job ladder, really? I've heard of Vucovik's unorthodox methods, but I'm not sure he'd go that far."

The concept made Catherine's blood run cold as fright slowly seeped into her bones. If this was a career move for the commander, then she could talk till her tongue fell off, he would never listen to her or give a damn about the truth. Anger pooled inside her stomach, burning hot and coiling ever more tightly into itself. It felt like a weighty lump wearing her down. Her fist clenched, her teeth gritted together and, with an angry yell, she turned toward the wall of their quarters unloading all her wrath into one blindly aimed punch. She didn't even notice the pain that went through her when her fist made contact with the cold metal, and only distantly heard her friend jump down from her position on the bunk. She felt Trish's hands gently pull her away to sit on her bed, positioning her hand between them to take a look at it. Catherine looked at her hand without seeing it, and Trish's words of assurance that nothing seemed broken just passed her by. She could identify some bruising, but nothing seemed to be too greatly affected. Trish thanked God for small favors.

"It's a good thing McGarrett didn't see that; you know he'd hate for you to hurt yourself over this."

"But Steve isn't here, is he? I'm here, and he's in the brig, and if you think he hasn't done the same yet, then you're..."

"Hey, hey," Trish tried to soothe her when she stopped to take a breath, enveloping her in a gentle hug. She felt Catherine melt into the embrace and realized for the first time how much her friend truly needed the comfort. For all her anger, Catherine was essentially worried sick and perhaps even somewhat heartbroken over what had happened. Trish understood her quite well. Catherine and Steve had navigated a couple of rough waters over the years, even drifted apart once in the beginning, but this was a particular low for them; threatened to be torn apart by the Navy they both served. "I know this is tough, okay, but you're not alone. Steve may be in the brig, but he's in this with you. We all are. We will get through this, together. As a family, as – what do you call it in Hawaiian?"

"Ohana."

"That's right, as ohana."

End of chapter 3!

A/N: The plot is moving forward. You may have noticed a tiny crossover with JAG in the character of Vucovik. The two series exist in the same universe, but I'm not moving this story to the crossover section because Vucovik is practically the only tie to JAG. So, don't worry, you'll still find this story in the H50 category.