A/N: Another short chapter, but I felt like it was helpful to revisit a few snippets of storyline since the story was on pause for a while.

#*#*#*#*#

"Wow, dinner," Catherine said, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight. "Tablecloth, candles, the whole nine yards. I'm impressed, sailor."

Steve turned from the grill and grinned at Catherine. So, they hadn't made it to their reservations - again. But some quick thinking and a rummage through the buffet in the dining room, and he'd had the lanai table transformed before Catherine got out of the shower.

"No waiters with bow ties, though, sorry. You'll have to make do with me," he said, turning back and flipping the steaks.

Catherine admired him standing at the grill, his board shorts slung low on his hips, the play of lean muscle across his back, the ink visible on his biceps as he manipulated the tongs.

"I'll manage," she sighed. "Where's Riley this weekend? I hope you didn't shoo her away on my account."

"I did, actually," he said, "and that's not a problem. She's staying with Kono, who I believe is intent on teaching her to surf. And . . . okay, not only do you and I deserve some time and some privacy, but believe me, I've had enough awkward conversations with my baby sister this week. I'm having enough trouble coping without worrying that she's . . . like Mary pointed out. These walls are thin."

Catherine laughed and took a bite of steak. "This is delicious. Tell me about this awkward conversation."

"So, we busted a guy for suspected human trafficking this week," Steve said. He poured more wine into Catherine's glass. "We'd used the dark web, so even though we sent Kono in, Riley was on comms in case she needed to feed tech information to Kono."

Catherine nodded in understanding.

"The guy was a total sleaze, came on to Kono, asked if she had family, that kind of thing. Suggested she could make the money she needed by using her body," Steve said, his lip curling in disgust. "I wasn't sure . . . Riley is so young, and she spent most of her teenage years with Joe and Frank . . . I felt like, well, like I needed to be responsible, to make sure she . . . "

"Oh, Steve," Catherine said, trying to smother a grin. "You didn't. You had 'the talk' with Riley?"

"I wasn't sure if anyone ever had," Steve said defensively. "And that's dangerous, Catherine, you know that. She can't afford to be naive, and she's only been with, with monks, for God's sake, and old soldiers and sailors, and . . . and Charlie Fong was holding her hand."

"Really? The lab guy?" Catherine said, perking up with interest. "That's sweet."

"No, it's not sweet," Steve insisted. "It's . . . he's older than her."

"Maybe three or four years," Catherine said. "Hardly robbing the cradle."

"He's her boss," Steve muttered darkly.

"Because you assigned her to work for him," Catherine pointed out. "That's not his fault, or hers. But back to your awkwardness -"

Steve groaned.

"Because I find it delightfully funny," Catherine continued. "Did you have to explain the birds and the bees to your beautiful younger sister?"

"No," Steve said weakly. "She - she understood. Frank. Frank had . . . oh my God, I can't believe we are having this conversation."

Catherine laughed, and Steve couldn't help but smile. He loved her laugh, low and throaty and contagious.

"You're a good brother, Steve," she said, wiping her eyes. "Clueless, completely clueless, but a good brother."

#*#*#*#*#

"I don't get it," Danny declared, waving his hands at the plasma. "Weeks. We've gone weeks without another kidney victim. It's enough to make me think the guy we busted was responsible, somehow."

"None of the victims recognized his picture," Kono said. "There's absolutely nothing connecting him to the cases."

"Except for the fact that the activity seemed to stop, once we had him in custody," Steve said.

"You don't think it could just be coincidence?" Chin asked. "There is such a thing, you know."

Steve looked long and hard at the photos of the victims on the plasma. "Well, until we get another damn lead, we have to hope that it is." He tossed down a file folder and stalked to his office.

"He was more fun to work with while Catherine was in port," Kono muttered, clearing off the smart table and saving the open files to the hard drive.

#*#*#*#*#

Riley sipped her tea as she sat, legs crossed, at her low computer desk in her office. She'd settled back into an easy routine of working on the database. This week she was back to cataloguing tattoos, adding the strangely layered ink of the bodies from the dock. She painstakingly entered every possible search parameter into the database. It was the second day, and she had barely scratched the surface. It was work that she enjoyed - detailed, methodical, almost meditative. Her office was quiet.

Quiet, almost silent - except for the faint whisper that caught her attention.

Riley.

She paused, placed her tea cup deliberately to the side of her desk, and tilted her head, toward the hallway. Maybe one of the other technicians was calling her?

Riley.

Strange. The sound seemed to be coming from her computer. She frowned and pressed the mute button. Mute. Un-mute. She fiddled with the volume control, turning the speakers up as loud as they could go, but she heard only a faint static.

The HVAC system engaged at that moment, with a whooshing sound, as the air moved through the vent. The leaves on the plant from Jerry moved gently.

Ah. That probably explained . . . it was the airconditioning compressor, or some such. Riley picked up her tea and went back to work.

#*#*#*#*#

"Well done," WoFat murmured. It was an understatement. The man sitting in the desk before him was a genius, pure and simple. "We have both audio and video feed from her laptop?"

"Yes, sir," the man said, bowing his head.

"And it's specific to her device - not to the network," WoFat said, pacing behind the man.

"Yes, sir," he said again. "We used the connection to the dark web to access her hard drive on her laptop itself. Wherever she uses it, we will have live feed of both audio and visual. When it's turned on, of course, on our end."

"And you were able to activate the speakers. She heard my voice. You could tell, the way she stopped, and checked her computer," WoFat said, his hand still caressing the small microphone into which he'd just whispered. "Amazing." He placed the microphone on the table, and his hand went into his pocket.

The man straightened, but did not turn. "If you are thinking of executing me, you may want to reconsider," he said, his voice level and resigned. "I designed access to the feed and to the speaker to work in a very specific, very detailed order. Only I possess the key stroke combination that allows you to access to the speaker, the camera, and the hard drive. If the key strokes are entered out of order, a detailed message explaining the process will be instantly and irretrievably placed into the inbox of all of her email accounts, as well as the inboxes of the Five-O team. I am worth much, much more to you alive than dead."

WoFat tightened his grip on his gun, scowling. He'd not given this man nearly enough credit.

"Very well, then," he sighed. A smile played across his face. This man wasn't just a computer genius, he was a bit of an evil genius as well. And WoFat always, always had room in his life for evil genius.

"Well played, Lee Soo. Well played," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Lee Soo said. "What else?"

"That's all for today," WoFat said. "We'll take our time. This process will require patience, like developing a fine wine. Driving someone to the brink of insanity isn't something that can be rushed.

#*#*#*#*#

Charlie Fong paused in the doorway of Riley's office. He tapped gently on the open door before leaning in.

"Riley, are you still working?" he asked, concerned. "Everyone else has been gone for almost an hour."

"Well, not everyone," she said, smiling up at him. "You're still here working."

"True, because I make it a matter of principle not to leave until all of my team has gone home. But," he added pointedly, "I'm getting hungry. And I'm sure you are, too."

"Steve must have lost track of time, too," she said, laughing. She started shutting down her computer, carefully backing everything up and marking her place in the hard copy records. "I can take a hint, though, and I will scoot right upstairs. Sorry to keep you late."

"Not at all," he assured her. "I really did just finish. I'll see you up. The building is probably empty except for Five-O."

"It's really not necessary," Riley said, grabbing her messenger bag.

"Well, the way I look at it, your brother is going to scowl at me for seeing you upstairs," Charlie said, as they got on the elevator, "or resent me for not being a gentleman and not seeing you upstairs. As it stands, I'll take the scowl."

"Sorry," Riley muttered. "He's . . . Mary was about twelve when their dad sent them away. I think, in his mind, Mary and I are both still twelve."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Charlie said. "I never said I faulted him for it. Anyway, how did the database come along today?"

"It's very slow work, but I enjoy it," Riley said. "That's why it was easy for me to lose track of time. It's so quiet in my office, I love it. Though -" she hesitated.

"What is it?" Charlie asked. "Is there something you need in the office?" He gestured for her to step off the elevator first, as it came to a smooth stop in the Five-O office suite.

"No, no, it's just . . . I don't know, it was so quiet today, and it sounded like someone was saying my name, but I don't think anyone was," she said. "Was someone looking for me?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Do you want me to pull the security camera footage and look? Do you remember what time it was?"

"No," she insisted. "The air conditioning kicked on right after. It was probably just the compressor or something. I don't even know why I mentioned it."

"But you did mention it, so it must have bothered you," Charlie said. "I'm pulling the footage."

"What footage?" Steve demanded, joining them as he went about the office, powering down for the evening. "What's bothering you?"

"And hello, Steven, it's nice to see you to, and yes, it was thoughtful of Charlie to see me upstairs," Riley said, raising her eyebrows.

"Charlie, thanks," Steve said awkwardly. "I completely lost track of time."

"Riley did, too, working on the database," Charlie said. "And she's trying to dismiss it, but apparently she thought she heard someone saying her name today, but as far as she knows, no one was in her office or the hallway."

"I think it was just something with the ventilation or HVAC," Riley said. "Seriously, I have no idea why it even came to mind. It's nothing."

Steve shook his head. "No, Riley, I agree with Charlie. If you thought of it hours later, something about it stuck with you. Charlie, let me know when you pull the footage, yeah? I'll go over it with you."

"You're both being entirely too concerned," Riley said.

"No such thing where you're concerned," Charlie replied. "Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow." He waved and stepped back onto the elevator.

Steve stared at the elevator door until Riley poked him in the ribs.

"What?" she demanded.

Steve looked down at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "He's being all . . ."

"Thoughtful?" Riley asked, dryly. "How dare he."

"No, that's not the word I'm looking for," Steve mumbled. He thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers and pointed at the elevator. "Solicitous."

"That's a synonym for thoughtful. I'm impressed that you know it, but it means the same thing," Riley said.

"Different connotation," Steve insisted.

"Seriously?" Riley looked up at him. "And again, oh my. Someone, on the friendliest, nicest island in the world, is expressing concern for someone else. Call in the sidewinders, scorch the earth."

"You - you have spent entirely too much time with Kono," Steve said, laughing in spite of himself. "Fine. Charlie is being very thoughtful, and in this case, he's siding with me, so I just have very mixed feelings about the whole situation, okay?"

"Okay," Riley said, patting his arm sympathetically. "I don't suppose it would make you feel any better at all to for me to tell you that Charlie is not the first guy who's been . . . solicitous, would it?"

"No," Steve said, sorrowfully. "No. That absolutely wouldn't make me feel better."

"Okay, then," Riley said. "I won't tell you."

#*#*#*#*#

Danny stepped out of the shower, toweled dry his hair, and then slipped into his most comfortable basketball shorts and his Hoboken PD t-shirt. It had been a gag gift, after the tasing incident, but it was soft and worn, and it didn't pinch through the shoulders. He had one hand in the refrigerator, reaching for a well-deserved beer, when his phone buzzed on the counter. He closed his eyes and toyed with ignoring the phone and downing the beer, so as to be able to tell Steve to bug off, thank you, he couldn't be on duty with alcohol in his system. Then he sighed, closed the door, and picked up the phone.

"Rebecca?" he said, after quickly thumbing across the phone to accept the call. He was surprised to hear from her. They'd enjoyed a brief text conversation on their lunch hours, and she'd mentioned coming off her fourth straight day of twelve hour shifts and looking forward to going home and crashing. They'd made casual plans for tomorrow evening. "Rebecca?" he repeated again, when there was no reply on the other end.

"Danny, I'm sorry, I just -" Her voice was shaky.

His keys were in his hand instantly, and he shoved his shoes into flip flops - they were flip flops, he didn't care what ridiculous name Steve had for them - and he was out the door. "I'm coming to you. Are you at home?"

"Yes, but it's really not necessary," she said. "I'm sorry, I know you're tired and just getting in for the evening, it's nothing, really -"

"Rebecca," he said gently, as he turned out of his apartment complex parking lot. "I'm already in the car, headed your way, so let's shelve the conversation about whether or not I'm coming. Are you safe? Are you hurt? Do I need to call anyone else?"

"No, it's nothing like that," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I lost a patient today. I can't talk about the details, it might end up a homicide case, and I can't - and I don't have anyone but you to call, I'm sorry -"

"Okay, okay," Danny soothed. "You know I understand. I'll be there in five."

Rebecca answered the door at his first knock, wearing gym shorts and a Baltimore PD t-shirt. She let Danny pull her into a hug, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Hey, it's okay, I've got you," he murmured.

She burst into tears, sobbing against him, as he rubbed gentle circles on her back. After a few moments, she pulled herself together and straightened.

"We look quite the pair," she said, wiping her eyes and smiling, pointing at their t-shirts. "Hoboken?"

"Long story, which I will tell you, to cheer you up," Danny said. "A good laugh at someone else's expense usually makes me feel better. I was wondering, though . . . do you want to stay here, or go back to my place, or - I actually have a third option in mind."

"Well, now I'm curious," she said. "What were you thinking?"

"Ocean view, a reminder that you're not alone on this chunk of rock, and quiet conversation - or comfortable silence - with people who totally understand not being at liberty to talk about the horrible, upsetting, traumatic thing that just happened," Danny said, smiling.

"Steve's house?" Rebecca guessed. "Oh, that would be - but I hate to impose."

Danny waved his hand dismissively. "Believe me, we've had a slow week - not that I said that out loud - and he and Riley probably have energy to burn and don't know what to do with themselves. Steve is . . . well, you stayed there, although it was under crazy circumstances, but he's a surprisingly hospitable guy, to be, you know . . . a lethal killing machine. Between the two of us, I think he gets lonely. He's never turned me away yet, and I tested the open door policy pretty thoroughly during the worst of the custody battle. Why don't you grab an overnight bag, since you have tomorrow off, and I'll give him a call."

"If you're sure . . . "

"I will give him an easy out to say no," Danny promised, "but I don't think he will."

#*#*#*#*#

Steve was flipping chicken on the grill, and smacking Riley's hand away as she tried to snag one of the slices of pineapple grilling alongside. To his dismay, she was faster, and he stared at her as she munched happily on the partially grilled piece of fruit.

"You - how -" he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Did you burn your fingers?"

"No, silly," she scoffed.

"That -" he said, pointing at her with the tongs, "is spooky and uncanny." His phone buzzing interrupted his train of thought. He pointed at her again in warning as he answered. "Danno, what's up?"

"Hey, Steve," Danny said, keeping his voice quiet. "I was wondering if Rebecca and I could come over for a while?"

"Yeah, absolutely, Danny," Steve said. "I'll put some more chicken on the grill, I have plenty . . . everything okay?"

"She had a hell of a day at work, lost a patient," Danny explained. "Probably going to be ruled a homicide so she can't even talk about it. I just . . . I think she needs to know she has a support network here, and it's not like her job - or her background - really make it easy for her to make a lot of friends. I figured, you and Riley, you get being pretty jacked up over something that you can't really talk about. Thought it might be good for her. Plus, you know, she loves sitting on the beach."

Riley had heard mention of adding chicken to the grill and had disappeared into the kitchen, returning with more meat and pineapple. She handed it off to Steve and went back for more place settings to add to the table.

"Sounds great, Danny," Steve said. "Riley's already grabbed more chicken and I'm putting it on now. Come on over."

"What's up?" Riley asked, setting the table. "Danny and Gracie coming?"

"Danny and Rebecca," Steve said. "She had a really tough case today, not something she can talk about, but Danny thought hanging out here would be good for her."

"I hope so," Riley said. "She deserves the best care we can take of her."

Steve's hand caught Riley's as she turned to go back to the kitchen. He turned her wrist over in his hand, his thumb tracing over the scar that ran down the inside of her arm. "Yeah, she really does," he agreed. "Not sure we'd be here without her."

Riley squeezed his hand. "So, we'll take good care of her," she assured him. "Steve. Everyone is okay. You know that, right?"

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head. "I know. I want it to stay that way."

"It is. It's staying that way. Also, I think I smell burning pineapple," she added.

Danny and Rebecca arrived to a warm welcome, simply delicious food - though Danny, on principle, objected to the pineapple - and hugs all around.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day," Riley said, gently embracing Rebecca. "You're a wonderful nurse. Whoever the patient was, they surely knew that they were cared for, that they weren't alone. That counts for something."

Danny smiled at Steve, his blue eyes crinkling. "Now, there you go. It was a good idea to bring her over, yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve agreed. He hugged Rebecca as well. "You know you are always, always welcome here, Rebecca. The door is always open to you; you're our ohana. We will never forget what you did for Riley, for us. Don't ever hesitate, okay?"

Rebecca nodded and wiped at her eyes. "This is - I'm not usually so - oh, shit. Can I have a beer, and some food?"

They laughed and settled in to eat, and soon Rebecca reminded Danny of his promise.

"The infamous Hoboken taser incident?" Steve said, his eyes lighting up. "Even I haven't been able to convince Danny to tell the story. I just know that there was an incident."

Danny sighed dramatically. "It was what I had to offer in Rebecca's moment of need," he said. "And the sacrifice to my reputation will be worth it, if it brings a smile to her face."

"Wow," Steve said. "I'm impressed with your devotion, Danno, I really am."

"Are you gonna shut up and let me tell the story?" Danny demanded. "Okay, it was Halloween, and I was picking up an extra security shift. New Jersey has a high cost of living, you know? Needed to supplement a little, with the holidays coming up. So, there's this row of frat houses, right?"

Riley looked confused.

"Frat houses . . . um, off-campus college housing, fraternities are groups of guys, usually have lots of Daddy's money and not very much of Mommy's smarts. They're rowdy, usually disgusting, occasionally violent . . . Gracie will never, never, never date a frat boy."

"I was in a fraternity at Annapolis," Steve protested. "Phi Sigma Iota."

"And . . . that was a fraternity for -" Danny prompted.

"Excellence in the study and teaching of foreign language and international involvement," Steve said proudly.

Danny blinked at him. "You have no idea what life is like in the real world, do you? I would say I'm sad for you, but seriously, babe, you got the better end of the deal."

"So you'd let Gracie date a US Naval Academy midshipman, who was a member of a fraternity," Steve challenged, stabbing another piece of chicken with his fork.

"That's not even up for conversation," Danny said firmly. "Because my baby is never going to date, ever, period."

Riley rolled her eyes. "There's a lot of that going around," she muttered.

Steve started to point his fork at Riley, then, and Rebecca spoke up quickly.

"Okay, so Danny, you were called to provide security for a row of frat houses? On Halloween?" she said. When Steve wasn't looking, she winked at Riley.

"Yes, and what could go wrong?" Danny said, waving his hands. "The school mascot, that's what. The frat boys had stolen the mascot from a rival school, and thus, there was a baby bull in the frat house."

"A bull? You're shitting me," Steve said. "You are totally making this up."

"I'm about to get to the humiliating part," Danny said, "and trust me, nothing would compel me to make this up. If you would stop interrupting -"

Steve gestured for Danny to continue.

"So anyway, there's a baby bull in one of the houses, and obviously, the poor animal goes berserk, freaks out, goes tearing out of the house. Doors are ripped off hinges, the frat boys are drunk and chasing the beast, and it's clearly my responsibility to try to do something to alleviate the situation," Danny said. "I didn't want to fire on the thing, because I didn't want to kill it - normally, I wouldn't want to risk shooting a civilian, but in that moment, I wasn't especially concerned. So, I thought to myself, hey, a taser is similar to a cattle prod. Farmers use cattle prods. Ergo, the taser would be appropriate."

"Ergo?" Steve mouthed silently to Riley, who dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"I pulled out the taser and tried to get an angle on the little bull. He was actually pretty cute," Danny continued. "I miscalculated, and he knocked me on my ass. I figured, okay, from that angle, I can hit his, you know, his underbelly. I figured it would be more sensitive than his flank or whatever, be an okay idea. So, I held up my taser, about even with my waist, and fired."

He stopped, rubbing his hand over his face.

"And?" Rebecca prompted.

"Didn't realize that in getting knocked over, I'd fumbled the taser. It wasn't pointing at the bull. It was pointing at me," Danny said.

"Oh, no," Rebecca said. "Where'd you get hit?"

Danny sighed, closed his eyes, and pointed -

"Holy shit!" Steve yelled, grabbing at his crotch instinctively. "Holy shit, that is just wrong, man."

Rebecca and Riley sat, their eyes wide with shock and amusement.

"Oh, dear," Rebecca said faintly. "That's . . . hmm. Unfortunate."

Danny's head shot up. "It still works just fine," he assured her, then blushed furiously.

"Seriously, Danno?" Steve groaned.

Riley and Rebecca laughed until their sides hurt while Steve crossed and uncrossed his legs compulsively, casting horrified glances at Danny.

Later, Danny and Steve looked down toward the water where Rebecca and Riley had waded in to their knees, enjoying the last of the sunset and laughing together.

"Thanks, Steve," Danny said quietly. "She was . . . man, she was devastated. It must have been bad. This obviously helped."

"Riley needed someone other than her overbearing, overprotective big brother to spend time with, too," Steve sighed. He watched Riley for a moment. "You think Riley's ever had a boyfriend?"

Danny looked up at him in surprise. "I would have assumed she did, yeah. I mean, she's a beautiful girl, Steve, even if she does look like you, and not a thing like Mary. She was at college for almost a year. Don't most girls have a boyfriend in high school? I mean, we had girlfriends in high school, right? Anyway, why does the idea freak you out so much? Mary's had a whole string of boyfriends, and you've only threatened to shoot like, two or three of them, max."

"Riley's different," Steve said, shaking his head. "I worry that she's been so sheltered . . . she would be very easily taken advantage of. Maybe not physically, but emotionally."

"Ah. So, you especially feel the need to run interference from the young man who knows her background, knows her history, knows that you could kill him seventeen times with your pinky before breakfast," Danny said, "and who understood that she shot him deliberately in the shoulder to try to save his life, and has witnessed any number of inexplicable and spooky things about her . . . and yet was seen - in the moment in which I got shot, may I remind you, which was upsetting to Riley and also to me - holding her hand. Holding her hand, Steve, which is about as innocent a gesture as you can get. Case in point? Gracie holds hands with boys. She's in the third grade. She also holds hands with girls because we are raising a very open minded child and I'm okay with that. But I digress. So yeah, wow, Charlie Fong. Better watch out for him, because he clearly has no idea that Riley is special, or different, or that she is surrounded by a handful of people who could hide a body, leave no evidence . . . yeah, nothing about Charlie Fong that says, 'possibly enough courage and compassion to be worthy of Riley'. Totally. Run him off. I'm sure Riley will appreciate it so much that she'll never consider shoving her boot up your ass and going to live in the mountain house."

Steve stared at Danny for a long moment. "You done?" he asked, finally. "Cause that was a long one, even for you."

"I'm done," Danny said cheerfully. "Want a beer?"

#*#*#*#*#

Steve stared at the ceiling at two am, Danny's words on an endless loop in his mind.

. . . Even though she looks like you, and not a thing like Mary.

He remembered his conversation with Joe, the words seared into his memory, as he'd stood, fixed in place, Joe's calm gaze holding his own. And Joe . . .

I don't know, Steve. I just know that I've always wondered. Timelines match up and I've always wondered, and if there's any possibility . . .

He thought back to his last conversation with Joe before he'd disappeared, seemingly off the face of the earth. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt, and moved soundlessly down the stairs. Still, Riley's overly keen hearing picked up on something, and he heard her stir and mumble in her room. He paused, waiting to be sure she had settled, and then continued to his desk.

The drawer was locked, still, not that the lock had prevented Joe from placing his DNA sample in it before he'd disappeared. Steve frowned. Joe had claimed to have left them with a DNA sample, but he also knew that Steve had been reluctant to open another Pandora's box. Maybe he'd just said that to throw Steve off, to prevent Steve from demanding a sample before he left.

He wasn't suprised when Riley appeared in front of him, her hair tumbling in wild waves around her face. She slipped into a chair across from the desk, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"You're thinking very loudly," she said.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said, smiling at her. "Sorry."

"The phone didn't ring," she offered, and he wondered, fleetingly, how she was so terribly certain of that. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Riley, you know DNA testing has proven that you and I are full siblings, right?"

"Ummhmm," she said, nodding. "And Danny frequently points out other evidence."

"He does, true," Steve chuckled. "How important is it to you, beyond that? Beyond knowing that you and I are brother and sister."

She was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure I understand."

"How much do you want to know about our parents?" Steve asked carefully. "About other relatives? According to DNA. Aside from our ohana, our team, our friends."

"Why?" she asked. Her eyes were wide, fearful. "Who else wants to know?"

"Hey," he said, as he stood and came around to the other side of the desk. He leaned against it, close to her, and tucked her hair away from her face. "No, no one else wants to know. This is - I'm not doing this right. Riley, we never compared our DNA sample against anyone else's. Just against each others." He paused, knowing that her lightning fast intellect would catch up in a second.

"Oh," she said softly, realization dawning. "Oh. You're saying we don't know . . . who? Shelburne? Shelburne isn't our mother?"

Steve winced at the hopeful tone in her voice. "Honey," he said gently, "I guess anything is possible, but no one has raised any doubts about that. I'm pretty sure Shelburne is our mother."

"So . . . your father? Maybe, he wasn't . . ."

"The question has been raised," Steve said carefully.

"We don't look like Mary," Riley said quietly. "We look so much alike, but we don't look like Mary. She's tiny, and she has that cute little nose."

Steve smiled. Mary did have a cute little nose. He glanced at a family photo on the wall - he'd meant to quietly remove a few, as none of them included Riley and it made him angry - Mary looked like an adorable, feminine version of their father. Same nose. He felt a chill go up his spine.

"The question has been raised because someone raised it, right? Some who thinks he might -" Riley looked up at him, and took a deep breath. "The decision is yours," she said.

Steve started to protest, but she held up a hand.

"No. I've never had a father. I grew up without a father, I never expected a father. I have no memories, no conversations, no pictures. You have all of those things. The decision is yours. You're the one who stands to lose something here, not me," she said. "So, the decision is yours, and I trust your judgment."

He stared at her in fond amazement. "Wow. Riley, are you sure . . ."

"I'm sure," she said.

"I've underestimated you," he said quietly. "I've underestimated your maturity. I'm sorry."

"It happens frequently," she said, smiling at him. "It's okay. If I go back to sleep, are you going to go to sleep, or are you going to sit down here and ponder?" She started to unfold herself from the chair.

He laughed and grabbed her in a hug.

"Mmmf," she mumbled, as he cradled her head against his shoulder. "Not that I'm complaining, because I'm not, but you and your ohana are a very huggy lot, you know that? Been hugged more since I got here than in my whole life put together."

She yawned and padded back toward her bedroom. Steve looked down the hall for a long moment, and then slowly and silently took down the incomplete family pictures lining the wall of the office. He left the ones of himself, and of Mary, smiling as he encountered a favorite. Then he pulled out his phone and frowned at it, studying a selection of apps.

Within a few moments, new pictures had been ordered, in glossy eight by ten and eleven by fourteen splendor: a picture of the team at a charity surfing event, a photo of Danny and Gracie, a shot of Riley, Rebecca, and Mary from the time that Danny had dubbed 'Steve's Days of Women', his favorite picture of Catherine, and a picture of himself and Riley that Joe had apparently snapped at the mountain house. Satisfied, he turned off the light and went up the stairs.

Despite knowing, beyond a doubt, that he had made absolutely no sound on the staircase, Riley's mumbled, 'night Steve' drifted up to him just as he cleared the last stair. He paused, the words of Agent Fielding coming back to mind . . .

"That's why the original genetic enhancements had to take place," Fielding had explained. "She had to be genetically, physically capable. Her physical DNA had to be carefully constructed to be able to keep up with what the nanotechnology could do."

His mind flashed back to earlier that evening, when she'd playfully snagged a piece of pineapple off the grill. Her hand had moved so quickly . . . the pineapple was there, right under his nose, and then it was gone. He didn't remember seeing her reach for it, even.

Steve went back to bed. Sleep, when it came, was hours later, and broken with images of Riley, pale and shaking, in the godforsaken Special Activities Division laboratory.