She sat at the top of the stairs, listening to the raised voices below. One finger wrapped a curl around and around and around, but it wasn't enough. The voices were loud and they scared her, although she wasn't sure why. It's not like her parents hadn't been loud before. But this time they were trying not to be loud, and they were still loud, and that somehow seemed important. That was why she had stopped at the top of the stairs, when she'd woken up, searing pain in her ear, her throat on fire, the room tilting funny. She'd staggered out of bed, but the voices had made her pause and sit down on the top step, unsure of what to do. She glanced around to be sure no one was looking, and popped her thumb into her mouth. She knew she wasn't supposed to suck her thumb - big girls who were seven years old didn't suck their thumbs - but she thought, maybe, it would be okay, just for a few minutes. Just until the voices were quiet again.

Billy came out of his bedroom and saw her.

"Hey, Squirt," he said softly, "what'cha doing?" He didn't say anything about her thumb, but she had to pull it out of her mouth, anyway, to answer him.

"My ear hurts," she whispered. "And my throat."

Their mother's voice carried up the narrow stairway. "It's not as if this is the life I wanted, either," she said. "You're not the only one disappointed."

Billy put his hand on Jackie's forehead. It was what his mom always did, if he was sick. She felt hot. Fiery hot, like the toast when it first popped up.

"I think you're sick, Jackie," he whispered back.

"Disappointed?" their father said. "Disappointed? That's rich. That's what we're calling it? This family that you pretend is -"

"I told you, she came early," their mother protested. "You see it, you see how tiny she is. Because she was early."

"She's perfectly healthy and she always has been," their father said. "You think I can't do the math? You think that you can pop out a kid six months - six months - after I get back from a twelve month deployment, and expect me not to figure it out? I've always known, and if you ask me, I've been more than a stand up guy about it. But I'm tired of the lies, I'm tired of wondering if it stopped there or if you just got smarter."

She put her thumb back in her mouth and looked up at Billy. His young eyes were troubled.

"Mom? Dad?" he called out. "Jackie's real sick."

There were a few poorly muffled curses and hissed whispers.

"I'll be right up," their mother said.

"You best take your thumb out of your mouth," Billy said kindly, tapping on her wrist, "before Mom sees. Come on, get back in bed."

She pulled her thumb out of her mouth and stood up, but the fluid in her ear and the high fever worked together to flip the world sideways, and she was falling, slipping out of Billy's frantic grasp, and tumbling down the wooden staircase. She landed on her shoulder, once, skidded two steps on her hip, and ended at the bottom with her hand outstretched in a desperate effort to keep her head from hitting the floor. There was a cracking sound and white hot pain that, for the moment, made her forget all about her ear and her throat.

"Jackie!" Billy cried out, rushing down the stairs in his sock feet, narrowly avoiding falling himself.

"What the -" their father rounded the corner as their mother stood watching helplessly. "Don't just stand there." He bent and scooped her up, carefully.

She screamed out in pain as her arm grazed against the stair rail.

"Daddy, she's really sick," Billy said. "She said her ear hurt, and her throat, and she's hot."

"I can tell, son," their father said kindly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let her fall," Billy wailed. "She just stood up, she was sitting on the top step, and she stood up, and then she just fell, boom, just like that."

"What on earth was she doing sitting on the stairs?" their mother asked.

"That hardly matters right now," their father said. "I'm taking her to the hospital."

"She probably just has another ear infection," their mother said dismissively. "It's late. I'll take her to the pediatrician tomorrow. Jackie, take that thumb out of your mouth this instant. You're not a baby."

She sniffed and stubbornly put her thumb more firmly in her mouth, sneaking a glance at her father. He didn't say anything about her thumb, so she brazenly left it, taking small comfort in the familiar gesture.

"I think she broke her wrist," he said quietly. "Good God woman, you - you know what, never mind. Jackie, honey, if I put you in the car and take you to the doctor, is that okay with you? Just you and me. Can you be a brave girl and sit by yourself?"

Jackie sniffed again and nodded. As awful as everything was, it was rare for her daddy to hold her like this, and he'd hardly ever taken her anywhere, just the two of them. She thought, probably, that she would okay. If he pulled the seat belt really tight so that the spinning would stop.

"I'll go with you," Billy said. He'd already run to his room and grabbed his shoes, and was sitting on the bottom step shoving his feet into them.

"Billy, darling, you have school tomorrow," their mother said.

"I'm going," Billy said, setting his jaw and looking up at his father for confirmation. "I'll sit with her in the back seat."

Their father looked down at him and nodded.

"Get my wallet and keys for me, son," their father said, nodding his head toward the hall table. They made their way to the family station wagon, and Jackie felt herself placed gently on her feet while her father reached for the back door.

The motion was too much, and she felt the world slipping again as she fell to her knees and vomited weakly.

"'M'sorry, daddy," she said. But she hadn't made a mess in the car, or in the house, and that was good, she thought. She looked up at him anxiously, the stars blurring and swimming behind him.

"It's okay," he said, as he helped her into the back seat. He rummaged around and found an empty grocery bag and handed it to Billy. "Can you handle it if that happens again, Bud?"

"I can, Daddy," Billy said, slipping into the seat next to Jackie. He pulled her head onto his shoulder. "Close your eyes, Squirt, maybe that will help."

Their father started the car and headed for the community hospital. His eyes caught Billy's in the rear view mirror. "You're a good brother, Billy," he said. "You're a very good big brother, and she's gonna need that, all the time, her whole life. You got that? You gotta always be good to her."

"I will, Daddy," Billy promised. "I will."

Jackie was tired of trying to be a big girl, she really was. Her throat hurt, and her ear hurt, and her hand was in agony. Her thumb went back in her mouth, but Billy didn't say anything, and neither did her dad, so she figured if you had to go to the hospital then maybe you were allowed to have your thumb in your mouth. Billy wiped the tears from her burning cheeks as they fell.

"I will always be a good big brother," he promised her solemnly.

Steve felt her twitch next to him, that violent, full-body twitch that usually accompanied dreaming of a fall. He wasn't surprised, and assumed she was reliving the impact of the car. His hand went to her cheek, stroking it gently, and brushing the curls out of her face.

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

She shifted on the sofa, her head pillowed in his lap. The morning had been a blur of orthopedics and obstetrics and Jax had looked so bewildered, so overwhelmed, that finally Steve had sent a frantic text message to Malia. She'd swept in like a tiny avenging angel in lavender scrubs and conferred briefly but firmly with the other doctors in the hallway, then returned with a gentle smile for Jax and a gleam in her eye for Steve that reminded him, inexplicably, of a sniper he'd once worked with in an undisclosed location.

"Once the cast dries, Jax is discharged," Malia had said. "Detailed, explicit home care instructions will be provided to you and an appointment has been made at the Women's Wellness Center for next week. Commander McGarrett, sir, you are to remain at home with your wife for a minimum of twenty-four hours, and don't tempt me to call the governor myself."

Steve had nodded meekly as Jax had sagged into the bed in relief, and within two hours they were home - wonderful, peaceful, quiet home - watching a DVR'd hockey game for all of ten minutes before Jax had fallen soundly asleep. Steve had waiting until she was out, and then proceeded to carefully read every single piece of paper in the thick stack of discharge papers and instructions.

She flinched again, violently, nearly slipping off the sofa. His hands instinctively went to her shoulder and hip to steady her, forgetting the deep bruising there. She gasped in pain.

"Billy," she choked out. "I don't . . ."

"Shit, I'm so sorry," Steve murmured, "wake up, ku'uipo. You're okay, I've got you. You're safe."

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Ow."

"You're shaking," he said, alarmed, as he helped her shift until she was sitting up on the sofa, her casted wrist propped on a cushion. "Are you hurting? What's wrong?"

"My throat hurts," she whispered. She shook her head, her eyes clouded with confusion. "Wait. No, it doesn't, it - it did, and my ear hurt, and I fell down the stairs, and Billy . . ."

"Jax, you're scaring me just a little bit," he said, kneeling in front of her on the sofa. "Where are you, hunh? Are you with me?"

She nodded and glanced away. "Yeah. I am. Sorry."

"Hey, stop apologizing," he said, gently turning her face toward him. "You wanna tell me about what you were dreaming about?"

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "He would have loved being Uncle Billy, you know? The baby would've . . . would've made him really happy. He would have been happy. I'm happy, I am, I'm sorry . . . I just -"

He wrapped his arms around her, his hand cradling her head in the crook of his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry that you can't tell him. Don't you ever apologize for missing him, okay? You get to feel how you feel. It sucks. It's shitty and it's unfair and I'm so, so sorry."

He rocked her gently as she fell apart against him, whispering soft words of comfort . . . in Pidgin, and some Mandarin, he realized, but she didn't seem to mind. She finally took a deep, shuddering breath, and chuffed out a small laugh when she hiccuped.

"Oh, geez," she mumbled. "I'm a train wreck."

"Did you just wipe your nose on my shirt?" he asked, amused.

There was a beat of silence. "Maybe?"

"It's true. Romance is dead," he said fondly, tucking her wild curls away from her face as she leaned back into the sofa cushion. "Y'okay?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes with her good hand.

He grinned, boyish and pleased. "Y'hungry?" He picked up a stack of papers from the coffee table. "You're supposed to eat six small meals a day. Nothing after nine pm, so you don't get heartburn."

She looked horrified. "They gave you . . . care and feeding instructions?"

"Very detailed instructions. I don't think you've been getting enough protein," he said, "and definitely not enough calories. I mean, seems like everything is okay so far, because the baby has just been sucking everything it needs out of your system, but you're almost into your second trimester, so you don't want to risk losing weight - shootz, that's enough of a concern under normal circumstances, for you - and you certainly don't want to risk anemia, or losing muscle mass. So, yeah, more calories in general, and definitely more protein . . . I'm thinking a couple smoothies between meals, since you're not a big eater - what? What's wrong?"

"You - protein - trimester -"

"Jax? You look kinda pale. You gonna puke? Jax?"

#*#*#*#*#

"Danny, Danny, thank you," Steve said fervently, holding the front door open. Danny was carrying Charles Nolan in the car seat carrier, so Steve hugged Rachel instead. She smiled in fond amusement and kissed his cheek.

"Hi, Uncle Steve," Gracie said, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

"Hey, Gracie," he answered, smiling down at her. She looked hopeful and a little wistful, and he wasn't at all sure what he was supposed to do with that, so he glanced at Danny. Danny tilted his head toward Grace and Steve hesitantly reached down and picked her up, settling her easily on his hip. Danny's grin told him that he'd gotten it in one, and he mentally patted himself on the back. He had instincts, right there.

He swung Gracie onto his back, and she laughed in delight as he carried her out to the back yard.

"Keep an eye on your Auntie Jax for me, would you?" he asked. "She's having a rough evening. Probably one of your hugs would be really, really good."

"She's a bit bruised, darling," Rachel reminded her, "so be mindful, okay?"

"Okay mommy," Gracie said, as she bounded out the back door. They could see Jax, standing ankle deep in the water.

"She's feeling a little displaced," Danny said, nodding. "The picking her up . . . Rachel can't, just yet, and I've often got my hands full, so . . . that was good. Thanks."

"Steven," Rachel said, plopping a giant diaper bag down on the kitchen island. "Congratulations. Now. What can we do to help?"

"We're freaking out," Steve admitted, pacing in the small kitchen. "I read all the stuff while Jax was sleeping, right when we got home from the hospital. And there's - we didn't know, we didn't have any idea, and . . . she's worried about the painkillers, and there was champagne, at our wedding reception - she was pregnant then, and on our honeymoon, oh my God, she wiped out so bad while we were surfing, her balance was terrible -"

Rachel smiled.

"What?" Steve demanded.

"Her center of gravity was already being affected," Rachel said. "On your honeymoon. That's precious."

"Precious? Precious is . . . she had a nightmare - no, a flashback, Danny she had an honest-to-God flashback after we got home from the hospital. She was . . . something about a sore throat, and an earache, and she fell down the stairs and Billy . . . and then she . . . when she finally woke up . . ." Steve stopped, glancing outside. "Danny. Danny, she can't tell her brother . . ."

Danny winced in sympathy. "She took it hard?"

"Yeah," Steve said, nodding. "And then . . . I may have overdone it a bit, with calculating grams of protein and calories. Possibly."

Rachel shook her head, peeked at the baby, and then started the tea kettle.

"Sit," she commanded Steve. He sat. She pulled out two teacups and raised an eyebrow at Danny. He smirked and grabbed a beer out of Steve's fridge. Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled at him, all the same.

"Wow, that's -" Steve said, shaking his head.

"What?" Danny asked. He held his beer in one hand and Charles Nolan in the other. Casually, like there was nothing to it.

"You just had an entire conversation with . . . your eyebrows," Steve said. "I thought only Chin could do that."

Rachel laughed. "We've been married a while. It's new to you. Just like the idea of having a baby. But you'll adjust. People have been adjusting to babies for thousands of years, Steven. Breathe. Here, drink some tea."

"Rachel thinks tea fixes everything," Danny said, taking another healthy swig of beer. "What? She can't drink, she's nursing. One of us may as well."

Steve looked a little pale.

"No, that's not a conversation we're having," Rachel said firmly. "Now. The champagne, the surfing, the car incident -"

"Incident," Danny muttered. "She did get hit by a car, Rach. It was awful."

"Not. Helping," Rachel said. "It is not terribly unusual for a woman not to realize she's preggers. Maybe not so often quite as long as twelve weeks, but not unusual. Consequently there are glasses of wine, there are vigorous sports . . . without incident. She was given a clean bill of health at hospital, yes?"

"Yeah, they said everything was great," Steve said, nodding.

"Then it's fine," Rachel said. "Stop worrying. Now. As to her tendency to be a bit too thin . . . well, yes, you'll want to be sure she's eating. I suspect her appetite will increase soon. I was absolutely ravenous during the second trimester of both pregnancies."

"I'll slip some of those bagels that she likes, into the break room," Danny said. "It'll be fine, Steve. She's young, healthy . . . well -"

"Danny, she almost died. She got an infection and almost died," Steve said quietly. "What if -"

"No. No, you have to stop," Danny said. "Look, not only will you make yourself crazy, you'll make her crazy - not to mention the rest of us - and she needs you to be you, Steve. Crazy, waits for no back-up, caution to the wind, shoot first ask questions later Super SEAL. Okay? No more freaking out. It's unnatural."

"No freaking out. Got it," Steve said. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, I can do this."

"Of course you can," Rachel said, beaming at him as she poured water into his tea cup. She'd popped in some sort of elaborate looking tea bag that he was fairly certain she must have brought with her. "This business about her brother . . . that is of legitimate concern."

Danny nodded in agreement. "Probably be good if she went to see Lieutenant Allen soon," he said quietly. "You too, babe. This is huge. Wonderful, exciting, fantastic . . . but huge. And life-changing."

"You'll both be fine," Rachel said. "Now, let me go have a nice chat with Jax, yes?"

Danny kissed her on the cheek and then shamelessly cupped his hand around her backside and pulled her close for another kiss, before releasing her to head out the back door. Charles Nolan gurgled happily.

"Here," Danny said, thrusting the baby toward Steve. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Steve held the baby carefully cradled in his arm, one finger tracing over his chubby cheeks. He looked out the window, where Rachel was wrapping Jax in a hug and patting her shoulder kindly, while Gracie held her hand.

"What do you think, Charlie?" Steve whispered. "We've got this, right?"

Charlie gurgled at Steve and tried to grab his nose, and Steve felt something loosen in his chest. He looked out the window again, at Gracie spinning circles in the sand, while Rachel laughed at something, and Jax had her hands over her face, but she was laughing now, too . . .

"As amazing as you're imagining it," Danny said quietly, "it's better. I can't explain it. It's better than you can even imagine, Steve. And I'm -" he swallowed hard, laughed a little at his own emotion. "I'm so happy for you, I can't even begin . . . you'll figure it out. You and Jax, you'll figure it out. The pregnancy part, seriously, is weird and awkward and amazing and terrifying - the first time is . . . no one knows what they're doing, even if they think they're prepared. But the kid part . . . man. It's the best. It's . . . also terrifying, but it's the best."

"Danny, your family, though, you came from this great big normal, happy, noisy family and we -"

"I know, babe. I get it. You and Jax . . . okay. You lost your parents at sixteen, essentially, and Jax . . . I don't know what her issue is, but -"

"Her dad. Um, wasn't," Steve said. "I don't think she'd mind you knowing. But yeah. He wasn't her actual . . . that's all I know."

"Oh," Danny said. "Wow. Okay, but you've got the Grovers and the Williams, and I mean, our kids aren't grown yet, but I think so far -"

"Your kids are amazing," Steve said sincerely. "I'd never - never - thought about kids. Wanting kids. Ever. Until I met Gracie. And then . . ."

"Yeah?" Danny asked, his eyes crinkling. "She's . . . yeah. She had you wrapped around her finger from go, didn't she?"

Steve nodded. "I want this so bad, Danny, and I had no idea how bad until I heard that heartbeat . . . and now I'm just terrified that I'm gonna mess it up."

"Listen, listen. You're overthinking this. Babies . . . they're simple. Feed them, burp them, change them. Seriously, that's it for like the first six months at least," Danny assured him.

"Okay," Steve said, poking gently at Charlie's round tummy. "Yeah, that doesn't sound so bad."

"So, you've got, what, about six months of pregnancy left, then six months of easy baby. You've got the first year in the bag already. For the next six months, just keep Jax healthy - oh. Okay, yeah, I understand a smidge of concern . . . trying to keep her out of trouble is . . . "

Steve nodded earnestly. "You see?"

#*#*#*#*#

"You're sure?" Jax whispered to Rachel. Her cheeks were pink, and she looked furtively at Gracie who was busy poking at something in the sand.

Rachel smiled. "I mean, you've been carrying on for the last twelve weeks, right? Your honeymoon, for example . . ."

"Oh God," Jax said weakly, putting her hands over her face. "The baby was there."

"It's even more fun when they toddle into your room and pinch the bottom of your foot, you know . . . whilst . . ." Rachel smirked.

"No," Jax said, horrified.

"Yes," Rachel nodded. "I suggest a lock, once they can walk."

"Oh God," Jax said again.

"Nonsense," Rachel said briskly. "Get over it. Unless your doctor tells you not to for some specific reason, go for it, and enjoy it. The literature suggest that the baby likes that little endorphin rush. They have no idea what's happening, I promise. Okay. Next question . . ."

#*#*#*#*#

"What's all this?" Kono asked, grinning, as Brian ushered her into his apartment.

"You said your day had been boring," he said, "and that your arm was aching . . ."

"Yeah, it was . . . Steve and Jax weren't in, so nothing fun happened," she pouted. "Paperwork. Chin made me back up my computer. Grover made me fill out requisition forms. Danny . . .well, okay, Danny took me out to lunch because I looked sad. Because I can't drive. Or turn my head."

Brian laughed. "Danny may have mentioned you looked sad."

"Aww, he - really? That's sweet. So, you thought . . . "

"I thought, you have to be bummed that you can't surf, right? So, I figured, maybe this would help? Or you hate it, and you really want to punch me in the throat right now," he said.

The sofa and coffee table had been pushed to the side, and a set of sand chairs, cushioned with beach towels, were in their place. A cooler full of Longboards sat to one side, along with a picnic basket. Somewhere, a CD player was filling the room with recorded ocean waves and gull calls.

"Oh, hold on," he said, grinning and flipping a switch on the wall. An oscillating fan blew across Kono's shins, making her laugh. "And -" he picked up the remote, handing it to her.

She raised her eyebrows and pressed a button. The TV flickered on. "Point Break? Seriously?"

"Hey, Chin said you liked it," he protested.

"I do," Kono said ruefully. "No self respecting actual surfer should ever admit that, but Chin got it out of me the first time I got shot. I blame the drugs."

"Yeah," Brian said, grinning wickedly, "yeah, there's that."

"Did I really . . ."

"Oh, yeah. Repeatedly. Declared your love for me. And you can't take it back, too late. Not gonna let you," he said, slipping his hand into her hair and tilting her head back to kiss her. "I plan on you declaring your love for me over and over . . . loudly . . ."

#*#*#*#*#

Steve carried Charlie out to the chairs.

"Hey - whoa, what the hell?" Jax said in alarm. "Where's Danny?"

"Um, so Danny and Rachel decided to take Gracie for a shave ice," Steve said. He patted a lump in the pocket of his cargo shorts. "We have Charles Nolan until they get back. There's a bottle. Apparently, there's nothing to it."

"Seriously?" Jax asked, squinting up at him.

"Well, Danny started to go into this big thing about burping, and supporting his cranium, but Rachel smacked him and said that, basically, air that goes in has to come out, and his head's wobbly and too heavy for his neck yet, so don't let it bobble. Here." With that, Steve handed the baby towards Jax.

"Oh shit, I . . . lemme . . . this will be easier when my stupid wrist is . . . oh. Hunh," she said. Her good elbow rested on the arm of the chair, and to her surprise, the baby just sort of . . . fit. "Hey, so this is . . . okay."

Charlie looked up at Jax, his eyes huge and still an indeterminate ocean color. He blinked and sneezed as the ocean breeze tickled his face, and the noise and sensation startled him, making his limbs flail. Jax instinctively cuddled him closer.

"Hey, so that was just the wind, and then you sneezed," she said. "You're completely fine."

He settled immediately, still studying Jax with solemn eyes.

"Wow," she whispered. She looked up at Steve. "Did you see -?"

"Yeah, he just settled right down," Steve said. He plopped into the chair next to her. "Rachel says he will cry if he gets hungry."

"Okay, so, that's how we know? If he's hungry?"

"Apparently."

"Hunh. Well, that's pretty straightforward . . ."

"Yeah . . ."

They sat in silence for a while, staring at the baby, who stared back.

"He smells good," Jax whispered. She put her finger near his hand and smiled when he wrapped his little fist around it. "He's so tiny."

"This is . . . this is nice," Steve said, looking out at the water. "This - Jax, this -"

"I know," she said, smiling at him.

#*#*#*#*#

"Well?" Rachel asked, leaning against the door of the baby's room. She smiled tiredly at Danny.

"His diaper was on backwards," Danny said, grinning as he expertly put the baby in pajamas. "But, his bottle was empty . . . scrubbed, probably sterilized, knowing them. He hasn't belched or acted like his stomach hurts, so apparently they got him to burp. And they were both grinning like idiots when they met me on the front porch to hand him off."

"Well, a successful evening all around then," Rachel said.

"Thanks, babe," Danny said. He tucked Charlie onto his shoulder. "I've got him. Go on to bed."

"You have work -"

"Like you don't. Gracie and Charlie can give all the criminals of Oahu a run for their money," he laughed. "Go. Rest. Charlie and I will . . . watch hockey or something."

#*#*#*#*#

They stood on the front porch for a moment, waving to Gracie as she leaned out of the back window of the car, faint traces of her grape shave ice still visible on her lips. Then the street was quiet, the gentle breeze and soft calls of birds an accompaniment to the rhythmic surf.

Steve wrapped his arms around Jax's shoulders and pulled her back against his chest.

"I'm sorry for going overboard with the calorie thing," he said. "May I interest you in a snack before bed?"

Jax laughed and leaned against him, resting her hands over his.

"How about a snack . . . in bed . . . after I've worked up a bit more of an appetite?" she murmured.

"You - yeah?" he grinned. His hands wrapped around her hips possessively, and he glanced down. One big hand slid under her loose tshirt and rested on her stomach. She shivered under his touch, and he felt a wave of protectiveness and possessiveness crash over him.

He'd thought, that first night when she'd padded into the kitchen, bruised and bleeding, and trusted him to gently bandage her stitches, that he'd experienced something of a primal urge to protect and possess.

Turns out, it wasn't even close to what he was feeling now, standing behind her, his ring on her finger and their baby under his hand . . . he wondered how long it would be until he could feel it move . . .

"Holy shit," he murmured, bending to kiss up the side of her neck, slowly, carefully, his lips brushing feather light against her skin.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, closing her eyes and resting her head back on his shoulder, so uncharacteristically unguarded . . . trusting. She felt strong, gentle arms under her knees and behind her shoulders, lifting her, carefully mindful of the bruising on her shoulder and hip. Still, it had been a long day, and less than forty eight hours from the impact of the car. It caught her off-guard, behind her closed eyes and in the stillness of the evening, it came rushing back - the sight and sound of the car, engine revving, tires squealing, and then, in close succession, the sound of Kono's body and then hers impacting with the bumper . . . the image of asphalt rushing toward her, too close, and much too fast. Her eyes flew open as her breath caught in her throat.

"Sorry," he said, "Did I -"

"No, it . . . the car, it just sort of . . . I hadn't really remembered it happening, and just then, I -"

"I've got you," he assured her, nudging the front door closed with his foot. He carried her straight up the stairs and past a pouting Pupule, nudged the bedroom door closed, and deposited her in the center of their bed. Gentle, careful fingers made quick work of the drawstring on her boardies, and he eased the shorts over the curve of her hips and tossed them aside.

"Damn it, ku'uipo," he murmured. It was the first he'd really seen of the bruising on her hip, and there it was in glorious technicolor against her golden skin. He pouted, tracing over the ink which was largely obscured by the purpling discoloration.

"It's still there," she assured him, amused, trying to prop up on one elbow. He snagged an extra pillow and tucked it behind her, and then returned to his exploration.

"This hurting?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. The scar on her hip looked like it had been abraded by the impact, and was inflamed and red under the bruise. He smoothed the pad of his index finger over it, carefully.

"It's okay," she said quietly. "Steve, I'm okay, you don't need -"

He shook his head. "I do. I need . . . just let me . . ."

Every old scar and every new bruise received the same reverent attention as the sun disappeared over the horizon, leaving the room awash in moonlight.

"I knew it," Jax murmured, her stiff muscles relaxing under his touch. "You do have a scar fetish. And really weird concept of -oh - foreplay."

He grinned, smug, his lips brushing against the scar on her side. "Seems to work, though."

She laughed softly, running her fingers through his hair, as his hands drifted over her stomach. His thumbs traced the ridge of her hipbones, noticeably less pronounced than before. Her stomach was no longer the familiar gentle concave of muscle, but a taut and gentle outward curve.

"Hello in there," he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her navel. "Wow."

"Yeah," Jax agreed, "only, maybe . . . talk to the baby . . . later?"

"Hmm?" he questioned, glancing up at her. "What . . . oh." He grinned wickedly at her. "Okay. Later."

#*#*#*#*#

A/N - Yes, there will be more action and no, we haven't seen the last of WoFat . . . I just couldn't resist a bit more back story and a bit of fluff.