Trust
Summary: Things between Steve and Catherine end in a bad way after he finds out that she's been withholding information on his mother. That should have been it, but neither had counted on fate to keep dragging them back.
Pairings: Steve/Catherine, some OCs mixed in for a little (or a lot of) drama and misunderstandings, maybe some Danny/Gabby, Kono/Adam
Warning: explicit situations
Chapter 14: Roller-coaster (Part II)
Her first physical reaction was to blink – several times – fully expecting that the image would disappear but, of course, she had no such luck. For a brief moment the Lieutenant contemplated turning on her heel and marching back onto base; perhaps she could convince the Captain to let her continue working, get someone to give her a ride into town or at least spend the time till everyone else got off of work on base. She knew her chances of that were below zero, and as she had told Steve she didn't want to stay on base.
Suddenly a thought hit her. Maybe that was precisely the reason he had sent her to play taxi service. He must have known how uncomfortable Catherine would feel, and banked on her trying to stay on base after all. Steve was clever and certainly devious and manipulative enough to do something like that. Well, if that had been his plan, it was going to backfire on him today. She was not backing down from her word; she wasn't going to stay in a glorified version of protective custody. She would live her life by her rules, not his, despite the tiny voice in her head that reminded her he was just looking out for them.
Them – her and the baby.
This made a new possibility occur to her. Steve didn't have to have a hidden agenda or some kind of devious plot for him to have made this move. Actions spoke louder than a thousand words, and maybe this was not meant as a deceit but as a peace offering. They had been going back and forth all this time, and he had decided to come clean with her regarding his conversation with Commander Klesko. Maybe this was just the next step on the path he hoped would resolve some of their issues. A sign to her that he really was trying to do better, and that he wanted to actually fix things instead of having them jump back into fighting again and again. He might not have planned on her discomfort, might not even have realized it, but rather assumed that she would welcome the trust he obviously had to place in her to make such a move.
Catherine scrunched her nose up as she kept mulling things over. Her theories changed practically with every other breath, and she didn't know which way was up. It might be either, both or something else entirely that had incited Steve to send his mother of all people to pick her up. If it was a sign of his trust, and she hoped it was – why else would he send her; he knew she wasn't the type to back down when challenged, knew it would only make her pursue her intended line of action more – then that was... Actually, she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. She knew she was supposed to be grateful for his trust and relieved that they seemed to be making serious headway, but a part of her couldn't help but be furious with this. Steve must have intended to call Doris to pick her up since this morning; a little warning would have been nice. A little consideration of her potential – and to be expected – discomfort would have gone a long way, too. She wanted to growl, and pull at her hair as she wondered why Steve couldn't just stop and think before taking impulsive actions, for once. Now she had to spend God knew how long in the confined space of a car with Doris McGarrett while she was grouchy, moody and hungry. Once her shift was over, she had forgone lunch as she had not been hungry at the time, and she thought that considering her recent eating habits, she would rather eat at home than display herself in the mess hall. Now, after seeing Doris waiting for her, hunger kicked in automatically as if it had only been waiting for this particular sight.
"Pick up for Catherine Rollins," Doris said, bringing Catherine out of her thoughts.
Brilliant, Catherine thought as she briskly bridged the distance between her and the older woman, and got into the car without a word. She barely looked at Doris as she climbed into her seat. The former spy followed suit, and so they set off in utter silence. Doris's eyes were concentrated on the road while Catherine stared out the window. She was sure Doris knew the way to her house but she suddenly didn't want to go there. She had somewhere more important to be right now, and, though she didn't want t initiate any kind of conversation, turned toward Steve's mother.
"Drop me off at HQ, please," Catherine prompted, then turned back toward the window in hopes of evading any answer. No such luck.
"Sure. I'm sure you and my son have a lot to talk about."
Catherine scoffed. She had no idea.
"Listen, Catherine... I'm sorry I got you into this mess. I know you love my son, and I never wanted to jeopardize that."
"Don't bother, Doris," Catherine replied tightly. "It's my own fault. You asked me to keep your secret, and I foolishly agreed. I could have said no, but I didn't. I lied to Steve; withheld information, whatever! I should have known better... I should have acted better."
"Nonetheless, I started this. If I had been more careful, you would have never been put in a position where you had to choose in the first place."
Catherine's head snapped around. She looked at the other woman incredulously. This couldn't mean what she thought it meant. Hell, Doris couldn't have said what Catherine thought she had heard. This was too much. The Lieutenant took a few gasping breaths, trying desperately to calm herself down. Doris noticed her distress, of course, and stopped at the side of the road. Both women ignored the honk they got from the first car surpassing them, albeit for different reasons. Catherine couldn't believe the woman could be so callous, but one look in Doris face told her she had already moved on from that conversation. She did look concerned as she questioned Catherine about her distress, but the Navy officer found a new level of distaste for the woman beside her. When Doris reached a hand out for her baby bump, she knocked it away.
"Are you listening to yourself?", Catherine asked the older woman angrily. "You electrocuted a man, and you don't even care! Do you?"
"I did what I needed to do to protect myself and my family."
"What family?", Catherine asked, almost hysterically, and now she was even more furious with Steve for sending her his mother. "You mean the one you abandoned twenty years ago when you faked your own death or the one you have been continuously lying to ever since you came back from the dead?! What family are we talking about here?"
Doris stared at her, unmoved. She didn't seem to feel the least bit guilty. Catherine finally took a few calming breaths, then a few more just to be safe.
"You're not sorry that you got me involved. Not really," she finally informed Doris. "You're not capable of that feeling."
There was a minute change in the woman's expression that Catherine thought she could identify as hurt, but even if it hadn't been gone in an instant, and she could have believed it, she was well past caring at this point. She was beyond pissed right now. Once she got her hands on Steve, he better have a damn good explanation. It wasn't like she didn't want him to reconcile with his mother, but she and Doris were probably beyond repair by now. This couldn't go on. She couldn't tolerate this woman. She didn't blame Doris for what had happened between her and Steve because she meant what she had said earlier; she had made her own choices, and they had been the wrong ones. She couldn't, however, tolerate false apologies or apologies for the wrong reasons. Doris didn't feel sorry about what happened, except maybe the outcome itself. She could believe that. Still, it would have been better if Doris had said nothing at all.
"Just drive," Catherine instructed, and turned back toward the scenery.
5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0
(Steve's day while Catherine is working)
Steve parked the car a few spots down from where the HPD unit was monitoring the house. Well, perhaps house was too nice a term for the tiny, near window-less construction on the opposite side of the road. He and Danny closely observed the shack closely as they approached the civilian car driven by the two police officers on watch duty. They came around to the front of the car by the driver's side, and the officer inside slid down the window automatically to give a report and receive new orders. Steve leaned forward, one hand on top of the car, the other curled around the door before he addressed the two men inside.
"According to our investigation there should be a drop-off at the house. Any activity?", he asked, his tone all business.
The driver shook his head.
"No, sir, none that we can see. Even the mailman hasn't stopped to deliver anything."
Steve's flat hand slapped against the car in frustration as he turned to Danny. The mainland detective shrugged; they'd both known it to be a long shot from the beginning.
"Alright, we're going to take a look inside. We don't have our radios but you can call us if you notice anything suspicious," Danny told them, and handed the driver his phone showing him the speed dial to call his partner. Then he turned, and followed Steve across the road. Kono and Chin, who had arrived with them, had moved over to the building already, weapons drawn as they approached. They had no need to break in as Kaha'i had kindly handed over his keys. They checked the mailbox first but there was nothing to find. Then they moved into the shack checking to see if somebody was there.
Nonetheless, when Danny and Steve entered, they had their guns drawn. Chin welcomed them holding up something in his hand. Blinking the other two members of Five-0 realized that it was an envelope. It matched the description Kaha'i had given them, so it was confirmation hat he had been telling the truth. Chin bagged it, and led them over to a small, dirty coffee table in the center of the room. On top of it was another envelope; the same as the one Chin had just stashed away. Steve cursed under his breath.
"Seems like they already delivered," Chin commented. "I've briefly counted the money. Kaha'i was telling the truth. There were five-hundred dollars in the first envelope."
"How did they drop it off with the police in front of the house?", Danny asked.
"Boss," Chin said ignoring Danny. He fixated Steve with a serious glance. "There were five thousand dollars in the second envelope, and this."
He held up a piece of paper. Steve snatched it from his hand, and quickly read over the typed message. It told Kaha'i to play host to Catherine for a couple of days. Even gave him a destination to take her to; Steve immediately recognized it as a police safe house. The realization sent his mind tumbling. Somebody was playing a dangerous game with them. He took a look at the further writing, detailing that the hostage should be treated with care and stay alive until instructions came to release her. Steve couldn't help the growl escaping his throat. Someone was clearly having fun arranging all of this perfectly, including a hostage taker who knew nothing, and could therefore divulge nothing under interrogation.
"Clever," Danny said out loud what Steve was thinking, not that he had needed to hear it. Another low growl came from Steve.
"Certainly clever enough to sneak this past the police," Chin added.
"And I think I know how," Kono informed them as she came in from a back room, and motioned them to follow her. They did until they reached a small bedroom. Simple furniture, nothing fancy but something seemed off. Something was out of place, they just couldn't quite put their finger on it. The night table was positioned oddly between the head of the bed and the wall. Kono smirked, proud of herself for having worked it out while the men were struggling. She moved the night table out of the way, and pushed against a small square of wall that seemed strangely discolored. If Five-0 looked closely, they could see a fine dark line around it setting it off from the rest of the wall. As Kono pushed, the wall gave way creating a small passage to the back of the house. She turned back to her friends.
"I already checked outside. There's a small handle to sneak in." She put her hands on her hips, and smiled proudly.
"Yeah, good, you worked it out," Danny applauded her. "Now what, you want a medal?" His grin took the sting off his sarcastic remark, and Kono only smirked wider rolling her eyes. Then Steve's phone rang.
"Yes?", he asked, and paused briefly to listen to the answer. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper, and Five-0 drew out their guns once more. "Alright. When he's inside, move in carefully. Don't spook him."
He turned to his team.
"We're about to get company; Asian male, nice suit, acting edgy."
"Why would they come back?", Kono whispered.
"Maybe they have heard that he's in custody, and want to take back the money?", Danny asked but knew it didn't make sense. "Though, why use the front door this time. It's out of character. They must suspect that we're monitoring the house."
There was a rumble as the door was opened, and the team fell quiet. They carefully moved closer to the main entrance. They could hear the intruder call out, so he seemed to be expecting Kaha'i t be there. Then maybe they had finally decided to contact him directly. Had they gotten worried at Kaha'i's lack of answer or action to their further instructions? To their first instructions? He had taken a few days. Yet, somehow the voice sounded anxious as the man continued to call for someone. Steve would have expected an emissary to sound sure of himself, or perhaps they were using some other unsuspecting civilian to deliver a message. Or maybe it was just a friend come to look for Kaha'i.
Steve cleared his head from the confusing thoughts just before he rounded the last corner, gun pointed before him. The man had his back to the former SEAL but attempted to turn around at the footsteps. Steve grabbed him by the back of the collar of his pricey suit jacket, and pressed him into the opposite wall for good measure. The man gave a grunt but didn't try to free himself of his attacker's grasp. Instead he raised his hands in a sign of surrender, placing them against the wall. One hand was holding a phone.
"Look, I did what you asked. I came," he said. "Now where is-"
"Adam?", Kono asked him bewildered as she recognized the voice. Steve let him go in surprise, and Adam turned around to look at Kono with inexplicable relief on his face. He moved over to her, not seeing the rest of Five-0 or their strange looks. Both his hands came up to hold her surprised face as he kissed her forehead gently.
"You're alright," he murmured. "What happened? How did you get free?"
"Free? When was I taken hostage?", Kono asked back. "Adam, what are you doing here; this is a suspect's house."
The police came in with their guns raised but Steve motioned for them to hold it. Adam looked around as if for the first time, and noticed Steve, Danny and Chin. He shook his head in disbelief.
"Did you find her?"
"We have no clue what you're talking about. Start at the beginning," Chin answered.
"Well, I got a phone call telling me that they had Kono, and that she would be safe as long as I did what they asked, and came here. I tried to call you but it went straight to voice mail. They gave me half an hour but the traffic... I... I thought... When no one answered, I thought..."
Kono hugged him telling him that she was fine, that she'd never been a hostage. Then she informed him of the actual circumstances that had made them come here. Adam's surprised face clearly indicated that he had no idea what was going on with their case. He couldn't give them any new information, though he did tell them that the caller had used a device to change their voice. He thought he recognized it as a man's anyway, and the way in which he spoke had seemed educated, a little posh.
"Why tell me to come here though if Kono is in no danger. I was bound to realize that she isn't here."
"When did this call come in?", Chin asked suspiciously.
"About fifty minutes ago now; like I said, the traffic."
"But if you had been here one time, you would have arrived before us," Danny informed him. "The police outside would have reported a shady character inside, and if we had come in to find you searching the house..."
"It was a set-up, a very carefully planned one at that. Someone is playing an intricate game to keep us on our toes, but why?", Steve wondered. "Bag the other envelope, and take it to Fong. We're going to need your phone, too, Adam. Also, have a forensic unit go over the place."
5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0
Back at headquarters Steve busied himself with filling out the paperwork that had built up on his desk even on the few days of his leave, while trying to puzzle the incident in front of the doctor's practice together. He was recalling every detail he could in hope of finding a clue he had missed, but he came up blank. Theoretically, he could leave any time; his leave didn't end until another two days from now. A glance at the clock revealed that Catherine should be on her way home, and for a moment he imagined getting there before her, waiting for her. He would like some time to talk things over some more. He was under no delusions that a bit of talking would make everything magically better, but he knew that they both had concerns and regrets they itched to divulge to the other, and he believed it could help build that solid base he had set out to create. Maybe they could finally have dinner. He did owe her steaks, and a couple of other meals, and it would be nice to go on a real date with her. Of course, she wouldn't necessarily know that it was a date, but he could work around that by saying that he just wanted to pamper her and their baby a bit, try to make her comfortable with him, make up for being a class-A douche bag in the past.
As he was about to get up, grab his jacket and do just as he imagined, his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller id, and smiled. He was mildly surprised that he was calling so early, but glad that it meant Cath was home safe. Or maybe he was calling to tell him they were heading for the beach, so that Steve could meet them there. His smile widened as an image of Catherine in her sinfully red bikini came to mind. Even if she hid it under one of her many – as he had recently discovered – sundresses, she would definitely change out of uniform.
"Hey buddy," he answered happily.
"Hey, man," Kamekona answered, and his voice bespoke of nothing good. "Listen, I haven't got your pretty lady with me. When I arrived, she had already left. One of the sailors told me."
"Left?", Steve repeated, confused. "Did she catch a ride with her colleagues?" Steve knew that couldn't be it; Catherine would have told him. He gulped as he thought that she might have been forced or coerced somehow.
"No, man. They said she went with an older woman with light brown, shoulder-length hair. Said they knew each other. D'ya know anyone like this?" (1)
Steve forced his mouth to open so he could get the words out, even though his teeth wanted to keep grinding. The hand around his cell tightened, and he wanted to scream, but it wasn't Kamekona's fault, and the man didn't deserve to be at the receiving end of his anger. So, instead, he thanked their informant, and hung up. No wonder Catherine hadn't called him to tell him she was hitching a ride with someone else; she had decided to go off with his mother again, and must have known that he would not react to that very well. So she had returned to old schemes of simply not telling him, rather than actually lying. He scoffed at the distinction; a lie of omission was still a lie. He wondered how she had contacted his mother, if maybe she had had her contact details all this time, and whether or not they had been talking the entire time since the night he had confronted her at his house. Then Steve shook his head as it didn't matter. What was important, was how to react to this new breach of his trust. He didn't understand how she could do this. They were making progress, trying to, anyway, and she just up and consorted with his mother again, despite what he had just told her yesterday about his trust issues.
It seemed to him like he had been right in suspecting her all along, but he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to feel this pain that was waging war inside him with his anger. His whole body felt numb, unresponsive to anything he wanted it to do, and he was somewhat grateful for that. As long as he couldn't seem to move, he couldn't storm out of here, to her house, and fight with her – potentially for real, because he felt the urgent desire to smash something that he nonetheless really didn't want to be her. He cared about Catherine; he loved her, and even now the stupid little feeling wouldn't leave him alone. After proof of her continued deception, something inside him still wanted to trust her, hold her, love her.
He'd unconsciously started counting, and by the time he got to thirty-six, he was interrupted by someone unceremoniously opening the door and marching into his office. Looking up, his knees almost gave out as he laid eyes on the reason for his torment. Catherine came to a stop only a few feet away from him, her face a raging storm, and his fist clenched at his sides in preparation for what was to come.
"How could you?!", Catherine started off, snarling at him loudly. "Her?! Really? After everything, you really thought it would be a good idea... Do you know your mother at all? Have you any idea... Can you imagine what she just said to me?!"
"Why would I know!", he retorted angrily. "You two never let me in on your little secrets! So, what is it this time, huh? Someone else coming after my mother? Or has she seen Wo Fat? Does she want to keep him in a dark cellar, and torture him or would she prefer to put another couple of bullets in the ground?!"
Catherine glared at him.
"I told you I was sorry for that!"
"Not sorry enough apparently!"
"What is that supposed to mean? Not sorry enough? How could I be any more sorry than I already am? I told you I made the wrong decision; I never meant for you to get hurt by what I did, though I guess I should have known better. I've known you so long. I should have known how my lying to you would affect you. I told you, and I'll tell you again – and I mean it, too – I'm sorry. You have no idea how much."
Steve blinked at the sincerity on her face, but it did little to assuage his anger.
"Yet you do it all over again," he ground out. "Did you not mean for me to get hurt this time either, or just for me not to find out. Like last time, I might add. Would you ever have told me?"
This time Catherine had no answer because she didn't quite know what he was going on about. He took her silence as an answer in and of itself.
"Guess not. Why else would you go off with my mother? Are you two plotting again?!", he thundered suspiciously.
"No, we were not plotting, and what do you mean going off with your mother. It's not like I had a choice! You had insisted on having me picked up if you remember!", she growled back, bristling at his accusatory tone. She could feel the burning heat of anger make its way through her blood and paint her skin along the way but she didn't care. Where did he get off making such accusations after he had sent his mother around. Then she noticed his slightly dumbfounded expression, and realized that she had been missing something that was clearly in front of her all this time. So had Steve. They had both been played. "Oh, that conniving old witch, you didn't send her, did you?"
"Of course not," Steve retorted, offended not at what she had sad about his mother – he agreed with that wholeheartedly from how this played out – but by her insinuation that he would send his mother to fetch her from Pearl-Hickam. "Why would I send my mother when I don't trust that woman as far as I can throw her?... Wait, is that what she said?! That I had sent her to pick you up?"
"Yeah," Catherine whispered more quietly.
"And you believed her?!"
The sheer incredulity of his tone made scorching fury rise in her throat all over again. Steve just didn't know when to back off, and let things calm down.
"And why wouldn't I?! She knew you'd send someone to pick me up. Where else would she have heard that but from you, and how was I supposed to know that?!"
"Because every word out of that woman's mouth is a lie!"
"Yeah, well, I'm not a lie detector. Clearly, or I would have seen through all of your lies a lot sooner!", Catherine argued back heatedly. She breached the last few feet they had left as a buffer zone, and came to stand directly in front of him. She was deliberately invading his personal space, knowing that this was the most efficient way to get her point across to him. He was such an obstinate man that no other method ever seemed to work once he had settled on a version of the story. "We have been working so hard to rebuild some of the trust between us, and I thought this was a sign of goodwill or faith on your part. I wanted to think that... A sign that it was working... but you don't just not trust me as far as you can throw me, you don't trust anyone that far, do you? Do you trust anyone but yourself at all?"
She bit the words out, growling them directly at his face, and never dropping the eye contact. His blue eyes were stormy, and his jaw was set stiffly. She could see the twitch in his eye that told her how uncomfortable he was with her assertion, but he was unable to look away. They were both captivated by this moment of intense anger between them. They were inches apart, and nothing but their own heavy breathing filled the room until Steve opened his mouth.
He'd felt his anger rise in his throat ever since she had walked into the office, and had already closed his eyes and begun counting again when he heard her approach him. Every step seemed to echo off the walls, every little click rushed through his system, and then he could practically feel her heat crawl over his skin. He'd begun counting to keep control of his anger, but this conversation was now taking a completely different turn as some darker pull took hold of him, an intense, inescapable instinct to indulge in unsavory pleasures.
"You're so hot when you're angry," he mumbled.
Not a second after he had said those words, did his hands come up to grasp her face in an almost brutal grip as his lips descended on hers, and then they were all lips and tongue and teeth. One kiss led over to another and then another, and there was nothing gentle about their ministrations. Their kisses were raw and hungry, fueled equally by rage and desire. Steve couldn't have helped himself to save his life. He had been so furious with her for going off with his mother again. It had felt like she had betrayed him all over again. Catherine, though, had been just as ferocious in her defense of herself and her attack on him, and the flushed skin of her face and neck had been so irresistible that passion had quickly begun to thrum through his already boiling blood.
Catherine, for her part, could not comprehend what they were doing as he pushed her back against his desk but she decided that she didn't care much when he wiped the surface clean with one hand while the other lowered her back onto it, and then thrust his pelvis against her center with animalistic urgency. They both groaned against the other's mouth, then again when they repeated the movement in unison. She wrapped her legs around him for better leverage, and ground herself against his forming erection.
They didn't even hear the clattering around them.
Steve could scarcely believe it, but he was already half hard in his pants, though Catherine had always had an intoxicating effect on him. Especially when she wrapped her legs around his waist like she was doing at that moment, one hand in his hair to hold his head firmly in place while the other one tugged his shirt free, and started scratching her nails over his abs. That move earned her an uncontrolled jerk of his hips, and he in return reveled in the long moan he got to drink from her lips. He wanted to shroud himself in that sound, wanted to make her make that noise over and over as he let his hands and lips and teeth touch her everywhere before he would bury himself inside her to bring them both to completion. He could feel the heat of her body against his, and now everything was growing too intense and too hot to be so still.
Catherine felt Steve's lips move away from hers, and she had half a mind to pull his head back up roughly. All thought of that vanished, though, when he latched onto her pulse point, nibbling and sucking, and then went downwards from there. One of his strong hands was still cradling her head while the other one was opening the buttons and working the sleeve of her dress shirt half-way down one shoulder in order to expose her plain white bra. His mouth followed the movement, tongue and teeth working over her already flushed skin, and she knew that he was deliberately leaving marks when he started gently biting at the exposed expanse of her creamy breast. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but hard enough that she would see the evidence of his amorous play later. When he reached the barrier of her bra, instead of shoving it aside like she was sure he would do, Steve kissed along its edge, letting his tongue slip underneath to lavish at her hidden skin. The tip of his tongue only just reached far enough to brush her nipple but in her oversensitive state it was enough to draw a long, high-pitched shriek of pleasure from her. The sensation had her involuntarily scratch her nails all over his back, yet that only seemed to spur him on further as his free hand came up to give her neglected breast a good squeeze. Catherine's back arched off the desk when combined with the feeling of his hardness rubbing against her core even with all their clothes still on. His hand moved between their bodies to cup her, pressing the palm against her sensitive nub, and eliciting another scream. She was sure he must be able to feel how wet she was through her pants and trousers as he kept rubbing the palm of his hand over her.
Her hand made an instinctive grab for his belt-buckle when a sudden knock from the door interrupted them. As if waking from a daze, they seemed to realize where they were and what they were doing because both their heads snapped into the direction of his office door. Just outside, and looking in every direction but toward the office, stood a fidgeting Chin who continued to make noise to get their attention.
"If you want to continue that line of conversation, get a room, please, before I have to arrest both of you for public indecency."
Steve and Catherine looked back at each other without waiting for Chin to leave them again. Their passion had cooled with the interruption but both seemed to be unable to pull away from the other until Steve cleared his throat, and let her up from his desk. He helped her back to her feet gently, then took a measured step back to put some much needed space between them. They were still breathing heavily when Catherine began to dust off her service whites while trying to get the raging blush under control. She'd re-buttoned her dress shirt in record time. When there wasn't even an imaginary speck of dust left to brush off, she had no choice but to look up at him.
"Uhm, I should probably go home," Catherine murmured, dropping her gaze again as she felt unable to meet his eye. "Ah, may I use your phone to call a cab. I sent... Doris on her way the second she dropped me off."
"Let Kono give you a ride," Steve suggested in return, a strange sense of gratitude and pride flooding him at hearing that his mother was not waiting downstairs for her. When Catherine nodded, and turned to the door, he placed a hand on her arm to hold her back. Unsure of what he wanted to say, though, he let her go almost instantly. "Look... I'll call you tonight... See if you got home okay. I had a patrol stationed outside your house, so..."
Catherine nodded mutely, not daring to say anything. They both knew that Kono would see her home safely; he just needed an excuse to call. Catherine nearly choked on the sudden fit of mirthless giggles that threatened to overtake her. He had always needed an excuse to call her when they had been 'together', too. Favors and missed dinners, that had been their dance. It was just one more reason why they could have never worked.
Chin passed her on his way in, and he tried very hard not to notice the remaining physical signs of what Catherine and his boss had just almost done in the office. He knew his face was as brightly flushed as hers. They nodded to each other, then he hastily entered the office. Steve was standing with his back to him, breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon but Chin decided not to take notice of that either. Instead he tried to tell Steve the results of Fong's analysis of the envelopes they had recovered from Kaha'i's house. Tried being the operative word as the first attempt came out as a garbled sequence of noises he couldn't even make out as proper words. This made Steve turn back toward him.
"Uhm, I meant to say that Fong got nothing from the envelopes. No fingerprints, no DNA. Whoever handled them was very careful. I'm afraid it's another dead end. Adam's phone yielded no results either; the call he got came from a burner phone."
With that, Chin placed the lab results on Steve's desk, and made a beeline for the door.
5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0
He arrived at her house seething again. He couldn't believe that she had pulled another stunt like this; she must not have learned from the last time everything went decidedly south. Now he and Catherine were back at the beginning again thanks to her. Admittedly, they seemed to have been taking one step forward and two steps back anyway but that only meant that there had really been no need for her to complicate this further. As he rang the doorbell repeatedly and with gusto, Steve thought about the occurrences of the last few months. After the fall out at his house, when he had sent her away, she had mostly disappeared from his life – the occasional phone call notwithstanding. Steve had been too angry to care at the time, though he did feel like something was missing. A bit of fear was always interlaced with thoughts of her due to her prior disappearing act, and all the former 'assignments' that might still come after her but at the time he had been grateful for being given space. As time passed he had easily grown accustomed to her absence – after all he had plenty of practice – and then the whole mess with Catherine and the baby had thrown him for a loop, and he hadn't realized that someone was missing from his life. He certainly hadn't expected her to reappear like this!
Steve rang the doorbell once more, quickly becoming impatient and resolving to just break the door open if necessary. Before he could make good on his thoughts, the door opened. There was no one waiting for him on the other side unless he counted his mother's retreating form. She expected him to follow, it would seem. He did so without waiting for another invitation; at least Doris knew that she wasn't going to get out of this. He followed her in the living room where he'd recently found her operation center when she had tried to regain possession of the microfiche she had stored at their house all these years. It was devoid of any world-domination-plans which Steve took as a good sign. She indicated one of the couches for him to sit on but he wasn't feeling like sitting down. The rage and anxiety swirling in his innermost being were making him too restless, so instead he came straight to the point.
"What were you thinking turning up at base like that?!", he growled angrily at her.
"I was only doing what I thought was right," Doris defended herself calmly, putting her hands out in front of her in what she must have thought was a placating gesture. It only served to enrage Steve more. There she was, callously justifying her actions like it was no big deal – like she had not just provoked another row between him and Catherine.
"Haven't you done enough?", Steve snapped back. "Didn't the last incident months ago teach you anything?! Catherine and I – we had a good thing, now what?! Look at us. And you really felt the need to interfere with this again. We were trying to fix things, now what? I don't even know if she'll talk to me again after the... fight we had at HQ."
Doris stood up to face him head on; her face looked slightly shocked. Steve raised an eyebrow at her wondering if she had really expected Catherine not to confront him about supposedly sending his mother to pick her up. For someone who had served in Intelligence, she could be extremely slow at times. His mother truly sucked at interpersonal behavior. He was starting to think that maybe that was where he'd got it from.
"I wanted to apologize. I dragged her into this situation; like you said, I caused this."
"I told you before; Catherine makes her own choices... Why did you have to involve her in the first place?"
Doris gave him a hard look as if it should be obvious. Maybe it was to her but Steve had been at a loss as to how to explain this whole mess from the beginning. His mother keeping secrets from him was nothing new; she had done that for the past twenty years. She'd gotten people to lie for her before. His father might or might not have known about the faked death but Joe White, the man who was like his father when his father wasn't there, which was always, had lied about his identity as Shelburne, and hidden his mother from him. He had never understood how Catherine could have done the same. Of course she hadn't known about Joe's betrayal but she had known about his mother being Shelburne, and abandoning him and Mary. He gave his mother a quick once-over, and wondered what it was about this woman that made everyone he loved deceive him.
"It was my business, and I asked Catherine to keep my secrets – just like you and your team kept yours from her."
Steve snorted. He'd wonder if they had exchanged notes but Doris had been there the night he'd thrown Catherine out; she had heard everything his old friend had thrown back at him. He kept hearing that; he kept having people tell him how much he, too, had withheld from her, and every time it would cut him deeper. However, while Danny and Catherine had every right to call him out on his double standards, his mother had lost any right to tell him off when she had disappeared twenty years ago. He refused to be rebuked by her.
"Some argument, mom!", he bit out. "So involving Catherine in your little schemes is alright as long as I have made mistakes myself? It doesn't work like that. Two wrongs do not make a right, and all you've managed to achieve is to... damage me even further."
That had the woman take a step back like she'd been burnt.
"You know why I attacked her that night?! D'you wanna know what the base psychiatrist thinks? She thinks that it's a reaction to you, and to what you have done – and I think she's right. Because when I think about it, 'mother' doesn't mean loving, caring and nurturing anymore; it means liar, deception, betrayal." The quiver in his voice was unmistakable. "Now I have to be afraid of being near her and our baby, afraid of what I might do to them. I've lost her trust, I'm trying to make things better but all I ever manage to do is hurt her more. She's afraid of me, mom. The woman I love is afraid of me because of you."
He sat down on the couch after all when his legs would no longer support him. For a moment there was nothing but terse silence in the room, then Doris sat down right next to him, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. His face was in his hands, and he did not bother looking up at her. He wasn't sure what he would find, and he didn't want her pity. Her hand gripped him a little tighter; he could feel her nails digging into his skin.
"That may be what 'mother' means with me but, Steve, it doesn't have to mean that with Catherine. She's not me."
Rage sparked in him again at her excuses. He fixed her with an angry gaze.
"It's not that simple."
"It could be," she insisted. "You say you're afraid of hurting her, and that you want to make things better but that's not it, is it? It's not all; you want her back, don't you? What's standing in you way is not me or your feelings for me, not really."
Steve said nothing.
"You have to let go of your anger before you can grasp hold of something else."
5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0
He sprinted the last few meters up to her door, and rang the bell impatiently. The sun had already set, and everything was basked in darkness. It was so late, he was sure he was waking her, and maybe that wouldn't go down too well, but he couldn't help himself when his finger rang the doorbell again. Just as he couldn't have stopped himself from coming here in the first place. He'd said he would call her, but had already known in the moment he had spoken the words that calling would not be enough that night. Never enough. The deep-rooted need to see her was overwhelming tonight.
He was prepared to apologize, to grovel, maybe even to beg her to forgive the late incursion and let him into her house, yet no words came out when she finally opened the door dressed in a thin morning gown with her hair loose and untidily framing her sleepy face. The cut of her night gown revealed a small number of passionate red marks along her cleavage. Upon seeing him, she immediately jerked wide awake. Only a sighing breath fell from his lips as he drank in the sight of her. For a few intense moments they merely stood, each watching the other with keen eyes. Then he began fidgeting a little nervously.
"I didn't come here for sex," he announced out of the blue, his voice firm. He might have kicked himself – not the best first couple of words after what had happened only hours ago.
"Good," was all she replied, though, then stepped aside to let him in.
Catherine closed the door with a soft thud. Occasionally looking back at him, she led the way up the steps and to her bedroom in absolute silence. She disregarded her morning gown to reveal a simple white chemise as he disrobed down to his boxers. Steve then climbed into the bed without a word, and held out his hand for her to follow. Their gazes remained locked the entire time as she slipped under the covers, and hesitantly snuggled up to him. Slowly she laid her head to rest on the pillow of his bare chest, enjoying the warmth that burned against her cheek and the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, yet Catherine could not have asked for a better lullaby.
Steve felt her soft curves mold into his side, the swell of her belly pressed carefully to his lean form. One of her legs was wrapped over his so that she could sleep comfortably next to him. He felt her heat spread through him. One of his arms was around her, his thumb busy tracing gentle circles over her shoulder. One of her hands was lying on his chest as well, and he moved his other hand to grip it as tightly as he dared. He listened to the sound of her breathing evening out, and felt every exhale lightly tickle over his chest. He placed a kiss on her hair before he felt himself drift off to sleep after her.
Catherine woke up again hours later, not sure what had stirred her from her sleep, only to find him watching her as she looked up. They weren't as tightly entangled anymore; they must have moved apart in their sleep. Their legs were still intertwined, but her upper body was turned to face the ceiling, one hand lying next to her face, the other resting protectively over her baby. She felt the additional warmth when he placed his hand less than an inch from hers. Looking down, she could see his fingers spread apart as if to cover more ground, and returned her gaze to his. There was something singularly intense about the way he looked at her, his electric blue eyes clear and focused as if she were the only thing in the world worth looking at.
Later she would be unsure what prompted it, or who started the madness, but she suddenly found herself kissing him. Their lips slanted together, opening, tongues battling, teeth clashing even. She could feel his tongue invade her mouth and caress everything he could reach. His hand had moved up to bury itself in her long tresses, massaging her scalp and neck, and sending shivers up and down her spine. Her hand was holding onto his hip tightly as he threw a leg over both of hers. His hand wandered lower to her back to pull her further into him until they were flush against one another.
Catherine heard herself moan loudly when his lips moved over her cheek and jaw to nibble on her earlobe. Her hand shifted upwards to dig its fingers firmly into his shoulder. Then he kissed the spot just beneath her ear sucking lightly. It made her bare her teeth from the intense sensation, and she knew he would love the feeling of her teeth scraping across the tender skin of his throat. The thought of love invaded her foggy mind so brusquely that she jerked away from him. He looked at her in alarm as she shook her head, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. She brought her hands up to wipe them away.
"Cath? Are... Are you both alright?"
"Yeah, but I can't, Steve. I can't be just your bedmate again. I'm not starting that cycle once more. I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this again with you."
He frowned, anger making its way onto his face. His fists clenched, he propped himself up at a slight distance from her.
"Is that what you think you were?... Are?"
"Aren't I?", she asked, not believing he was questioning this. "You made it perfectly clear to me what I was to you that day on the rocks."
He gritted his teeth. He couldn't deny having implied just that, but how could she believe that now. Hadn't he made it clear enough that he cared for her immensely? Did she think that was all about the baby? He closed his eyes, and counted slowly from twenty downwards until he could unclench his fists even if it took some effort on his part. He could still feel his anger boiling close to the surface, and every time he looked at her, he felt it spiking again. With a quick move he rolled out of bed, and got dressed without a word. He could feel her looking at him, and the sound of sniffling that came from the direction of the bed tore at his heart.
"Where are you going?"
"On a run."
Catherine watched him walk out of the bedroom without sparing her a glance, and broke a little with the sound of every step. She turned her head into the pillow, and cried herself to sleep. When she woke up for the third time, it was to the sight of a tray with croissants, butter, jam, orange juice and a note with her name in Steve's handwriting.
End of chapter 14!
A/N: I seem to like having them (almost) having sex in unusual places.
(1) I think it might be difficult to describe someone to the point people would recognize them, and Kamekona doesn't know Doris that well. Steve's just slightly more fixated and suspicious when it comes to his mother.