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Wow! My last goal was 50 reviews and I now have 56! That means that I get to post two chapters today! You guys are so awesome.

I am proud to announce that I have actually finished writing ALL of the chapters for this story! Don't be too impressed, though; it was actually really easy once I got going. And before you ask… no, I'm not going to tell you how many chapters there are going to be. Because then you would know that the end is coming and I couldn't shock you. BUT I would like opinions on whether I should write a sequel, or just include a part two to the end of this story. Let me know what you think.

Thank you all so much for the reads, reviews, favorites, follows, and private messages. I appreciate you all so much.

Happy reading!

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Chapter Ten: Tell Me Something I Don't Know

Steve

Danny was staring at Allie from across the table, his stare so heated that I was kind of amazed she hadn't burst into flames yet. Then again, she appeared so cool that flames probably couldn't have touched her, anyway. As far as poker faces went… Allie's was the best I'd ever seen.

Grace had folded long ago and had played with Gideon for a bit before she'd fallen asleep on Allie's couch. Not long after that, Kono had said that she needed to go because her boyfriend was flying in early the next morning and she was supposed to pick him up at the airport. Kol was the next one to leave, claiming that he was too tired to continue, even though he'd been doing rather well (his chips had been divided evenly among the remaining three players).

I had lost all of my chips two games before and, now, I was just waiting to see who would be victorious. Allie's game of choice had been Seven Card Stud, and it had been intense from the very beginning. They'd both been dealt one face card each – a king for Danny and an ace for Allie. Their other cards were just regular numbers with no matching suit.

They were at the very end of the game, and Allie had already made her final bet.

Danny continued to stare, but finally spoke. "I don't think that you hit the flush. You would need all of the cards in your hand to be hearts."

"I'm aware," she replied, voice calm and even. "Are you going to call, or are you going to fold?"

After a moment's deliberation, Danny pushed all of his chips to the center. "I'm all in. You're bluffing."

"Okay," Allie said, still not reacting. "I'm in. Show me your cards."

"Not until your chips are in the middle," he disagreed, as if this was a hostage negotiation instead of a card game.

"Seriously, Danny?" I asked him incredulously. "Just show her your cards. She called."

But he was adamant. "That's not how it works, Steve. What do you even know? You only made it so far because other people quit and kept giving you more chips. The rule is: if someone is all in, the other person has to count out that many chips and put them in the pot in order to call."

"Oh my God," I groaned and began to argue, but Allie held up a hand and stopped me.

"It's fine. He's just prolonging the inevitable." She started to count out her chips, completely ignoring Danny as he said that he was not prolonging the inevitable, he just wanted to "play the game right". Finally, she had counted out the correct number of chips and pushed them towards the center with all of the others. "Good?"

Danny nodded his approval. "Good." And then he showed his cards. "I hit my straight. Ha!" His eyes glowed with his perceived victory. "Don't feel too bad. I-"

"Just a second there," Allie said as Danny started to rake in his chips. "Doesn't a flush beat a straight?"

It was like all of the blood instantly drained out of Danny's face. "What did you say?"

"Yeah, that flush you thought I was bluffing about?" Allie tossed three hearts onto the table. "Not bluffing. So… I believe these," she put her arms around the pile of chips, "are mine." And then she raked them right out of Danny's arms as I looked on in laughter that I couldn't control.

"Shut up," Danny told me and then stood. "It's just that it's late and it's hard to… to focus when it's… late. We should be going. I'll grab Grace and then be out of your hair." He left the kitchen while I was still laughing.

"Not a bad night," Allie said as she began to put the chips back into their metal container. "Too bad this isn't Vegas and these chips aren't real. I'd be sitting on a week's pay right now."

I laughed as I grabbed the playing cards and began to put them back into their box. "You're good. Where did you learn to play?"

"From my uncle. He was over all the time and he wasn't really into hide and seek, so he taught us cards. We started with Blackjack and my mother was furious, until he argued that it was actually a very good way to teach addition."

I felt myself grin. "That's not a bad argument. Fast addition, at that."

"Well, my dad didn't mind, and so Uncle Edward kept teaching us. I was his most eager student and we played all of the time. He taught me everything that he knew and the rest is history."

"Have you ever gone to Vegas? Tried out your skills at any casinos?"

"I've been to a few casinos, but I don't play much. I'm on a cop's salary, after all."

"Technically, you're getting paid what a detective gets paid," I reminded her and closed the box of cards. "You want some help with the dishes?" It was the least I could do after she'd fed me dinner, dessert, and beer. Good beer, at that, though she had claimed that Kol had picked out the beer because she was more of a wine girl.

She seemed surprised by the offer but nodded. "Sure." She closed the lid on the chips and then put them away with the cards. "Let's get to scrubbing."

Allie

Steve had offered to help me with the dishes, which I thought was odd, but I didn't protest. If he wanted to fish for information while he was scrubbing dishes, I'd let him. At least I wouldn't have to do it all by myself.

"I guess you could just leave these for tomorrow," he said as he looked at the pile-up near the sink.

I laughed. "You definitely don't have to help out if you don't want to, but I won't be able to sleep if I know that these dishes are down here." Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was already midnight. "And I get up at five to run, so I need to hustle and get it done."

"Well, good thing two is better than one. Where do you want me?"

"Ah, I get to be the commander." It was probably just the five glasses of wine that I'd had throughout the night, but I was in a joking mood. Definitely the wine.

He smiled. "Only in your kitchen."

"Fair enough. You wash, and I'll dry and put away."

"Sounds fair." He took his place and turned on the water, waiting for it to get warm before he grabbed the dish soap and the first plate. "Thanks for having me over. It definitely beat the frozen pizza I would have had for dinner."

"I think a bologna sandwich would have beat a frozen pizza for dinner."

He laughed. "Yeah, maybe. Do you cook a lot?"

"I try to. I like to try and eat as healthily as I can. But with this job… I've found myself swinging through a drive thru more than once." A lot, actually. Especially for lunch because I had yet to buy myself a mini fridge to keep in my office.

"Well, at least you have some variety in your life," he told me as he handed me another plate. "I eat at Kamekona's too much. I need to spice it up with some chicken every once in a while. Or a steak."

"Kol could grill you a steak." I put the plate away and waited for the next one. "He loves to grill and it's not often that he has the opportunity to do it for more than just himself. When we were growing up, there were always at least six of us at the table. It gets lonely, eating alone."

"Yeah," he said, almost sadly. "I know what you mean. My mom always used to cook dinner for my dad, my sister, and me."

"And then what happened?"

He scrubbed a stubborn fleck for longer than was necessary and didn't look at me as he answered, "She was killed in a car accident when I was sixteen."

I remembered seeing that when I'd looked into him. But it really wasn't my business. "I'm so sorry."

It was like he hadn't even heard me as he handed me the plate and continued. "She was late for dinner and that's how I knew that something was up. And then the officer came to the door and I just… I knew. Not long after that, my father moved me to the mainland to go to the military academy. Mary, too, but she went to live with our aunt."

"That must have been hard."

"It was."

We worked in silence for a few minutes and then he said, "So, what does Kol do when he's not leading high speed chases and conning his way into a criminal gang?"

And there it was. I smiled at him as I began drying the dish he'd just handed me. "More fishing, Commander?"

He shrugged and fought a smile. "Habit, I guess."

"What is it you want to know about?" I asked him and almost laughed at the surprise on his face. "No, I'm serious. If you were to get right down to the root of your mistrust of me, what would you say?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "I guess that I don't know you. The governor never asked me for my opinion; he just placed you on my task force, where we go out every day and put our lives on the line. He doesn't understand that, but I sure as hell do and I know that you do, too. I never got a chance to get to know you before I was asked to trust you."

The plate that he was holding had been under the water long enough, so I reached over and gently took it from him, holding eye contact. "But the questions that you asked me aren't going to help you know me. You're asking about what I did for the CIA. You're trying to figure out if my brother ever worked for them, too. But the CIA, bomb squad, White Collar Crime, State Department… those were all just jobs. Not who I am."

"It's a part of who you are," he argued, but I could see that he was still processing my words, evaluating them.

"One of the smallest parts. Who I am is who I choose to be. When I come home, I choose not to be a member of Five-O. I choose not to be a girl with a past with the CIA. Because those things aren't really that important."

He finished washing the last dish and handed it to me. "Okay… I can kind of buy that, I guess."

"Let's put it this way." I put the dish away and then turned to face him, leaning back against the counter as I tossed the towel aside. "In my opinion, anything that you can find in a file is not a true reflection of a person's inner self. For example: anyone could do a little research and find out that I'm a part of Five-O. But I don't think that anyone could do research and find my favorite song. I'd rather know those types of things about a person than their job history any day of the week."

The look in his eyes told me that he could see my point. Maybe he was even starting to agree with me. "I think I get it." He took up a pose much like mine, right across from me. Crossing his arms across his broad chest, he smiled at me. "So, what is it?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Your favorite song," he clarified. "What is it?"

"Once Upon a December from Anastasia."

"I don't think I've ever heard it."

I felt myself perking up almost exactly like Gideon did when it was time to be fed. "Well, then you're in for a treat. Let's go outside so the music doesn't wake Kol."

He followed me out the back door and then I waved for him to sit in one of the outdoor chairs that I had sitting on the porch. He sat down and I perched myself on the railing before starting up the song.

The voice that began to sing was beautiful, and I felt myself getting lost in the music. "Dancing bears, painted wings… Things I almost remember. And a song someone sings, once upon a December. Someone holds me safe and warm. Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully across my memory…"

Once the song had ended, I looked to Steve and could just make him out in the dim glow of the lights I'd turned on as we'd walked out. I couldn't quite figure out his expression, but it held a smile. "That was pretty. You really like that song."

"My favorite. What about you? What's your favorite song?"

"Well, I prefer The Rolling Stones over The Beatles," he teased me, "but I don't have a favorite song. I'll listen to whatever is on. Danny is the picky one. You should hear him in the car when he doesn't like a song that comes on. Instead of just asking me to pick a new station, he has to give a three minute commentary about why the song is terrible. By then, it's over and he's free to rag on the next song."

I laughed at the image, because I could totally see Danny doing that. He wasn't one to keep his opinions to himself. "What about a movie?"

"I like Black Hawk Down."

Typical. I rolled my eyes. "Of course you do."

He looked offended. "It's a classic."

I laughed. "It is definitely not a classic. The Sound of Music is a classic."

He made a face. "I'm guessing that's your favorite."

"Ever since I was a little kid. I wanted to be able to sing like Julie Andrews. I still wouldn't complain if that did end up happening, but I highly doubt it. I can do alright in the shower, but I don't have a future in theater."

"Favorite color?" he asked me.

Thankful that we were having a conversation without any tension, I said, "Purple. It's the color of royalty, you know. And also, the color that my favorite Ninja Turtle wore, which is actually the real reason that I chose it."

His laughter was loud and full, and I couldn't help but laugh, too. "You were into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

"Don't make fun!" I said. "My older brothers watched it all of the time and it grew on me."

"Why was Donatello your favorite?"

I could feel my eyes light up as I pointed at him accusingly, laughing. "You watched it, too!"

If it hadn't been so dim out there, I bet I could have seen him blushing. "I mean, yeah. It was always on TV, so…"

"Donatello was my favorite because he fought with a staff," I answered. "Who was your favorite?"

"Leonardo. He was tactical and kind of the leader."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course."

"Enough of that," he said. "What's your favorite… flavor of ice cream?"

"Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey." At his face of disgust, I said, "There's some in the freezer right now, if you want to check it out. It's delicious."

"I'll pass. I'm a plain chocolate kind of guy."

"Clearly, you need to branch out more."

He didn't respond to that. "Next question. Umm…" He thought for a few moments. "What is your favorite… animal?"

"Dogs. German Shepherds, specifically."

"I've been meaning to ask you how you came to own Gideon."

"He was a stubborn puppy that the CIA was trying to train. He was super smart, but he had a mind of his own. They were going to kick him out of the training program and have him adopted out, but I fell in love with him as soon as I saw him and I convinced one of the trainers to help me keep him. He helped me train him and everything. And he's been with me ever since."

"I'm not really a big animal person," he told me. "I think it's because my parents weren't. I didn't have any pets growing up."

"Not even a goldfish?"

He shook his head. "Not even any fish. My dad said that if I wanted to see fish, I could just go down to the beach."

I laughed. "Did you surf?"

"Still do, whenever I have the chance."

I could easily picture him out there on a board, riding the waves as they came.

The image was broken up as he said, "What about your other brothers? Are they like Kol?"

I laughed. "We're all pretty different. I think Kol and I are the most alike, for obvious reasons. My oldest brother, Michael, is pretty serious, super intelligent, and takes his job as the eldest very seriously. Trent is an artist, brooding and serious as they come. And Max is… Max. There's really not a good way to describe him. He does what he wants, when he wants. And he's always sort of been a trouble maker."

"Sounds a lot like my sister, Mary."

"Well, don't say that we should get them together. Max's longest relationship lasted a week. He's not one to get tied down by anything, even love. In fact, he sprints away at the first sight of it."

"Mary is kind of the same way," he said. "They probably wouldn't be any good together."

"No," I agreed.

He was silent, but stared at me for a while.

I held his gaze evenly.

Finally, he said. "This has actually been nice. I think you were right about jobs not being the most important thing about a person. I feel like I've gotten to know you better just in the last ten minutes."

I didn't fight my smile. "Good."

Steve

I couldn't believe it, but I actually felt okay with Allie after the conversation that we'd had on the porch. It hadn't been at all about her time in the CIA – other than when she'd told me that she'd obtained Gideon from the CIA – but I felt like I knew her so much better.

Maybe I could learn to trust her, after all.

"Well," I said as I stood up. "I think I've taken up enough of your evening. Or…" I glanced at my watch. 12:33. "Your morning, I guess."

She laughed and hopped down from the bar. "Don't worry about it. I enjoyed it."

"So did I," I said, and I really meant it. "I guess I'll see you at work."

"That's a pretty good prediction." She followed me inside and even to the front door.

"You don't have to walk me out," I told her with a smile.

She shrugged. "I'd have to anyway. To lock the door."

"Oh. Right." For about the fifth time that evening, I was overwhelmed by how nice she looked tonight. But, I shook the thought away and put my hand on the doorknob. "Good night, Allie."

She took one step closer. Not so close that we were touching, but close enough that I could see her pupils. They were slightly dilated, likely from the transition of dark to light. Wait… that wasn't right. The opposite would have happened. "Good night, Steve."

As I stared into her eyes, the strangest sensation suddenly filled me. It was similar to adrenaline, but also different in a way that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, it was overwhelming and I wasn't comfortable with it.

It took most of my inner strength, but I ripped myself out of its grasp and opened the door, which seemed to break the spell only slightly. "Lock up behind me," I said, which was a stupid thing to say because she'd already told me that that's exactly why she'd followed me to the door.

Before I could make an even bigger fool of myself, I walked out and shut the door behind me. Once in my truck, I let out a long, shaky breath.

And the farther away from her I got, the clearer my head seemed to become.