Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-O or anything you recognize from it.

Seventy percent of success in life is showing up.— Woody Allen

Please enjoy and Please Review!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Firecrackers and the Calm

Three Months Later…

"How about next time we don't walk into a fight?" Melissa muttered to herself as she unlocked her apartment door in Quantico, Virginia and hobbled into her place. She knew it was risky but it had been the only way for her to salvage the ruins of their case; it also didn't hurt that Summers was probably ripping apart the newbie on account of his mistakes that had jeopardized the investigation but had also caused Melissa to intervene.

Melissa felt a twinge of pity for the newbie but in an instant, the emotion fled. They all made mistakes and they all, sure as hell, got shredded by Summers but it was their job and the unit demanded better than the best. He would learn and as he gained more experience, he wouldn't falter as much. She had been livid when the operation had been threatened and she had wanted to bite the newbie's head off when she had been in the midst of the fighting but after she had calmed down, she had realized that at one point in everyone's lives, they had been just as green. But if he screwed up next time, she'd roll up her sleeves and give him a stern talking to. She hobbled to the phone and bit back a few curse words when she realized that her good hand was encased in a cast, "Damn it all." She carefully punched in Kono's number and waited, rolling her eyes when she got her friend's voicemail.

She sighed dejectedly and looked at the envelope by microwave, she was leaving tomorrow morning at dawn for Hawaii and Kono was had promised to pick her up. She ran her hand over her face and swore when she poked her eye instead. She was a mess; two bruised ribs, broken hand, tore a ligament in her thigh and had more bruises than a boxer. She had already planned on taking a week vacation but Summers had forcefully spoken to her and told her that she had a mandatory month off for medical leave.

She winced, remembering the memory,

"Are you done yet?" Summers asked, scowling at the nurse standing over Melissa's bruised form.

"Almost." The nurse replied unfazed.

Melissa watched Summers out of her peripherals and nodded her thanks to the nurse. "You're a mess, agent."

She glanced at Summers, his arms crossed over his chest and a black scowl marring his face, "Take it easy on Browns, okay?"

Summers snorted, "Just because he's new does not excuse him for his mistakes."

Melissa tried to shrug but instead settled for a slight nod, "I stumbled a lot when I transferred."

"Is this your problem, agent?" Summers asked rudely.

She acquiesced, "No, sir."

"You get two mandatory weeks atop your vacation." Summers finally dropped the ball.

Melissa's jaw fell open, had she done something wrong, other than stepping on his toes? She had struggled the first three months coming back from Hawaii but after working out her problems and finding her feet again, she had gladly thrown herself into her work. Even Summers had commented on her almost never leaving the office. "Sir?"

He sighed, and gingerly sat down across from her. He glanced around the cold, sterile hospital room, "This is becoming the norm, Jones."

She sighed, "I can't help it, sir."

"I know…and that's why I'm giving you mandatory leave. You've been working so hard these past six months but I'm worried about you." Summers commented slightly.

Melissa tried to calm her erratic breathing and the loud pounding of her heart; damn profiler. She had slowly gotten over her misery of missing Kono and Rourke and she had finally made leeway into her addiction that was Steve. She no longer cared if Kono spoke about him or not and she hadn't thought about him at all during the work hours. Though, at night, sometimes he'd never leave her head and those nights she didn't sleep. To conquer her Steve-filled evenings, she pulled longer hours at the Bureau and would go for runs or spend the late evenings in the gym…anything to not go home and realize that her life really was empty. "Worried, sir?"

He snorted, calling her nonchalant bluff, "You're lost in yourself, Jones."

"When did you become the poet?" She asked annoyed.

He frowned, "Save the wisecracks for your leave. Go enjoy the sun and let go. But make sure you come back refreshed."

She nodded, knowing that he was right. Something had to give, she was too high-strung and pushing herself harder than she usually did.

Melissa stared at the phone, over the past six months; Kono had become more involved with the mystery man and sounded more and more preoccupied. Any other time, Melissa would have called out her friend on her lack of interest in their friendship but she had to admit, she was slightly thankful for her friend's insensibility. If Kono had pulled away the blinds from her eyes, she would have known that there was something off with her friend. That she seemed like she was drowning but didn't know how to save herself.

She knew phoning Rourke wasn't that much of an option anymore, either. Three months ago, when she had phoned him and he had excused himself because of a visiting relative, she knew that it wasn't her imagination that he sounded distant. Despite her early reticence to get close to him and her addiction to Mr Stupid, she had still pushed forward and became the best long distance girlfriend she had ever heard of. But still, their phone calls had gotten shorter but she told herself maybe it was because he had forgotten her. Despite her suspicious nature, she had pushed it away and still planned an evening with him, where she would cook dinner for him at his house. He knew she was coming but the evening she planned was spontaneous. And who didn't enjoy a little spontaneity?