Pehea wau i ʻike ai i kou makuahine
Based on the characters and stories of Hawaii Five-0.
Hawaii Five-0 is owned by CBS and their respective creators.
Eddie darted in the door as soon as Steve jiggled the lock open. "Yo, Eddie! Calm down, boy!" He called out as the dog dashed through the house, "What's gotten into you?"
The dog wasn't going to be deterred. The click, click, click of his paws against the hardwood floors led Steve to his bedroom. Eddie scratched and pawed against the closet door with a vengeance before plopping his furry rear on the floor and smacking his tail in a perfect staccato rhythm.
"Had to adopt a damn DEA dog…" He grumbled, "What is it, buddy? I told you last time. It's just mothballs in there. No drugs. Sorry to disappoint." Eddie wasn't going to be distracted. He whined and nudged his nose against the door until Steve digressed and opened it up.
Eddie darted into the narrow closet and burrowed his way through the boxes that were stacked on the floor. He stilled as he sniffed one in particular before letting out a sharp bark. Steve was intrigued. He pushed through the mess and pulled out the box that Eddie was so insistent upon inspecting. "Alright, alright. Calm down, Ed." Steve dropped the box on the bed and sliced through the tape with his pocket knife. As soon as he peeled the tape away, he knew why Eddie had gone berserk. "You caught her scent, didn't you?" Carefully, Steve dug through the box.
Catherine must have missed it when she moved her things out in a hurry. There was an old Navy uniform of hers. He brushed his thumb over the embroidery that spelled out ROLLINS on the blue camouflage jacket. Eddie hopped up on the bed and unceremoniously plopped his head on the uniform, offering a whimper of support. Steve sighed, "I miss her too, bud."
Cautiously, he dug through the rest of the box. There was a half empty bottle of perfume, some awards she had gotten while in the Navy, and a few birthday cards from her mom. Damn it. It had been a minute since he'd called Evelyn.
Surprisingly, after Catherine had fessed up to them and told them about the CIA and her leaving Steve - well, what she could tell them, anyways, Evelyn had called him. She had dropped some sage wisdom that sounded more like a riddle than advice, but nevertheless, he was grateful for the effort.
He heard the door open and close and the thunk thunk of Lynn leaving her shoes at the door. Those fucking foot tomahawks she insisted on wearing to work. Steve had tried to reason with her. He really had. But Lynn just didn't see it from his perspective.
Steve tried to convince her to wear more sensible shoes to work. If something, say, an active shooter or hostage situation were to happen at her office, she wouldn't be able to run in those damn stilts. Lynn thought he had gone full doomsday-prepper during that particular conversation when he started listing off all the possible worst case scenarios for her urban office environment.
Lynn was a free spirit. She was easy going and pleasant to be around, but he was the farthest thing from a free spirit there was. Lynn operated on a manual that he didn't have access to, and there would be no fixing her whimsical disposition or lack of tactical awareness. She was a "stop and smell the roses" kind of girl. Steve was a "blindly stomp all over the roses while listing ten different ways to make them grow better" person.
Catherine would have stomped right alongside him and come up with a better re-growth plan than he had.
Damn it.
Steve quickly closed the box and shoved it back in the closet when the creak of the stairs alerted him to Lynn's close proximity. He'd have to figure out what to do with the box later. Maybe he could call Catherine and get her address and ship it… Fuck. He had to stop thinking about Catherine. She had been on the island for little more than twenty four hours and already she had wedged herself back in his head. Then again, that would be the case, but the truth was, she had never really left his head or his heart.
"Hey, handsome." Lynn smiled as she padded into the bedroom. She reached out to pet Eddie, but he evasively dodged her hand and curled up in front of the closet. "He okay?"
Steve was still lost in thought, "Huh? What?" Lynn pointed at Eddie. He scrubbed the stubble on his face with his hand and shook his head, "Yeah, he, uh… he's fine. Probably just tired. Long day."
She eased towards Steve, sensing he was just as skittish as the dog, "What about you? Are you okay?"
"Don't shrink me today." He warned. "I, uh, I just need a little bit to decompress before we go out."
Lynn pursed her lips and silently counted backwards from ten before answering, "Okay. I'll wait downstairs." Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and walked back down the stairs.
Steve groaned and closed his eyes. This was not going to end well. The writing was on the wall. Regardless of whether or not he loved Lynn or thought he could even grow to love Lynn, his heart just wasn't in it. Sure, they had plenty of things in common - Ellie hadn't been wrong about that. When it came down to it, Lynn just wasn't Catherine.
His lifestyle wasn't for the faint of heart. Even in the transition from Naval Intelligence to the SEALs and then from the SEALs to Five-0, Catherine had handled it like a champ. They'd had their share of disagreements and pitfalls, but the understanding that the job came first wasn't a dig at the value of the other person and their relationship. It just was what it was.
Lynn expected him to be… domesticated. Dates. Terms of endearment. On more than one occasion she had hinted that flowers would be nice.
Of course, Lynn wasn't really asking too much of him. He knew that. She just had the normal, civilian expectations of a romantic relationship.
Catherine had never tried to make him feel bad for not going above and beyond in the romance department. Had he really been treating her that poorly? Though he didn't want to admit it to himself, Steve knew he had. He never really thought about sending her flowers or going out on actual dates or calling her something other than lieutenant. Their dates were usually just evening out the score after a favor was asked and their terms of endearment were their ranks.
Catherine deserved better.
She deserved the weekend getaways and the surprise flowers at work. She deserved to be wooed and fawned over. Whatever lucky bastard was blessed enough to win her affections should kiss the ground she walked on, in his opinion.
"I'm stuffed." Lynn laughed as they strolled out of the restaurant. "So, uh, what's next? You wanna catch a late movie or something?"
Steve led her to the truck and opened her door, "I should probably get you home. I've got a, uh, an early out." Lynn's silence told him that she was waiting for an explanation. "Gotta be in court first thing in the morning."
Lynn kept her hands clasped on top of her lap as Steve hopped in and pulled out of the parking space, "Which case is up?"
"The, uh, the armed robbery turned hostage situation from a couple weeks back. Ellie said the fucker's attorney is getting the case retried. Trying to get the sentence reduced due to my apparent excessive use of force."
Lynn stared out the window as downtown Honolulu flew by, "Didn't you shoot him three times?"
"He was holding a gun at a hostage and had already put a bullet in someone else." Steve glanced over at her before turning his eyes back on the road, "I think the fact that I took him down and didn't kill him when I had the very legal option to proves excessive restraint."
"Seems like you could've used a non-violent method of getting him to let the hostages go." She chewed on her thumb nail and muttered, "Didn't have to shoot him."
The truck came to a screeching halt in front of Lynn's house. "You've never been in the position to make those decisions, so I suggest that you withhold judgment on those who have." His voice was icy and calculated.
She raised an eyebrow at him. Lynn wasn't one to back away from a fight. As easy going as she was, she had a tenacious streak. "Steve, we've been together for a long time. If you can't handle a little criticism, then maybe I don't know you as well as I thought I did."
"You don't know me, Lynn. You're a non-operator. So you won't ever get me or the decisions I have to make and live with."
Lynn laughed, "You play God for a living. So no, I don't get that." She pressed her fingers together in front of her lips, "Steve, I like you a lot and I really like spending time together, but if your job is always going to not only take precedence, but be untouchable in discussions, then we need to have a serious conversation about what kind of future we have."
"What do you want?"
She sighed, "Reasonable work hours and the ability to make plans and not have them stomped all over by a work call." Her tone softened, "Knowing that you're actually going to come home in one piece or come home at all. The ability to know which version of Steve I'm going to get- the fun, adventurous Steve who likes to grill and swim after dinner or the Steve who shuts me out and won't talk after a hard day." She reached over and slipped her hand into his, "I'm game for all of it. The good days and the bad days, but you have to meet me halfway. Sometimes you make me feel like the most special girl in the world, and sometimes I don't even think you remember I'm here. I don't have time to teach a man how to treat me like a woman. "
Steve nodded. The truck engine idled, a steady reminder that he had a decision to make. "It is what it is, Lynn."
She was afraid he'd say that. "Okay." Lynn stared at the dashboard and collected herself. She wasn't going to show an ounce of weakness when he so clearly felt absolutely no remorse. "Then, um…. I guess it's been fun."
"Yeah." He agreed. "It's been fun." Feeling just a twinge of guilt, Steve leaned over and pecked her cheek as she released her seatbelt and opened the door. "See you around."
"Yeah." She lingered just a moment. "See you around."
Pen in hand, Catherine sat at her kitchen table and scribbled a few more lines in her journal. The steam rose off her coffee, the smell eased the aches and pains of the last forty-eight hours.
"Morning Princess." Jude let himself in the front door and gave her a kiss. "Coffee?"
"In the pot." She pointed to the counter as she dogeared the journal entry and set it aside.
He poured himself a mug and sat down beside her, "Let me see this." Carefully, Jude unwrapped the gauze that Steve had carefully bandaged her arm with. Catherine hissed as he peeled the bandage back. "It's getting there." He trailed his thumb over a scar not too far from the fresh injury.
"GSW." She answered, reading his mind. "Last tour in Kabul."
Jude produced a fresh sheet of gauze and changed the dressing. "So, uh, how was it? Being in the field with Charming again?"
Catherine knew that he was trying his best to sound uninvested in the situation, but his piqued interest and air of jealousy was an honest to God turn on. "It was fine. We kept it strictly professional. Got our guy and got out."
"Good girl." A smile flickered on the corner of his mouth, "So, we gotta get to Langley for a briefing, but then I was thinking maybe we hit the city for dinner?"
"Jude." She warned, "Don't turn this into more than it is."
"And what is it?"
"No strings, no-"
"Commitments. I know." Jude tucked the first aid supplies away and smoothed out the bandage, "It's just dinner."
Catherine smirked, "That's what they always say and then it's ten years later and there's a dog and kids and a white picket fence."
He chuckled, "You're not looking forward to the white picket fence?"
"Keep your head on straight, Beckett. Let's see where this assignment takes us first. Besides, I'm more of a 'fortress of solitude in the middle of nowhere' kind of girl. Main Street never appealed to me." Catherine locked the door behind her and walked out to Jude's truck.
Jude caught her by the hip and spun her around, her back ramming into the truck door. "I can concede the picket fence for a cabin in the woods." His mouth lowered onto hers and he threaded his fingers through her hair. He couldn't get enough of her lips, her taste. The way she felt against him. But, duty called. Jude pulled away and gave her a playful swat on her ass. "Get in the truck, Princess."
Journal #11
Manassas, VA
I told myself that after the Morocco op that I'd never lie to Steve again. He knew the truth about what happened- there was no need to ever keep anything from him again.
But I lied.
When we were on Kaho'olawe, I told Steve that us sleeping together was probably a mistake and ruined our friendship. I lied. It wasn't. I loved him. Hell, I still do in some twisted way, but it wasn't a mistake. Loving someone is never a mistake. Everyone deserves love and to be loved.
I love Jude.
Not like I loved Steve, though. It's not a forever kind of love connection and the sex was good, but it's not even close to what Steve and I had. Maybe it's the history I have with Steve that will make it hard for any other man to ever compare. We saw each other through everything. Through September Eleventh, our first real tours of duty, our struggles with PTSD, the death of his dad, growing and changing, leaving the Navy, more near-death experiences than we should have lived to tell about. All of it. That's a lifetime for some people and it's just a small part of our stories.
Jude and I have been through a lot. Rather, he's seen me through a lot. He's been with me through some really heavy, scary stuff. I need to talk to him. To really talk to him. I've told him no strings and no commitments, but I think he's trying to change my mind. Thing is, it's not going to happen and it's not because I don't care about him. I really do and that's why I can't do this to him.
Damn it. I'm still in love with Steve and he's in love with someone else.
Steve tossed the journal aside with reckless abandon and jumped off the couch. The breeze blew in off the ocean through the open lanai doors, but that did nothing to cool his temper. He stormed into the kitchen and grabbed Catherine by the waist. His fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her into a kiss. Steve's fingers tangled in her hair, tugging it out of the low knot she wore. Champagne and citrus. Two decades later and it was the same intoxicating taste. "It wasn't a mistake." He whispered as he pressed her against the counter top. "Us sleeping together? It didn't ruin us. You were never a mistake, Cath."
Catherine smiled against his mouth and looped her arms around his neck. "Still reading the journals, huh?" Her teeth sunk down into the pout of her lower lip.
Slowly, he kissed behind her ear, down her neck, across her shoulder. "Nothing with you was ever a mistake." He smirked, "Except letting Jerry come with us to Kaho'olawe."
She giggled and hip checked him into the corner, "Everyone will be here soon."
Steve grabbed the stack of plates and began to set the table, "I know we, uh, we're havin' everyone over tonight, but what do you think about Thursday night? Just you and me. We'll, uh, go out and get dinner. Get a sitter for the kids?"
"Sounds good to me, Sailor." Catherine pulled a casserole dish out of the oven that smelled like oregano and garlic and sin. "You know, I have to give her credit."
"Who?"
"Lynn." Catherine smirked.
Steve laughed nervously, "Oh yeah? Why, uh, why do you say that?"
Catherine elbowed the refrigerator open and grabbed an enormous salad, "I mean, you know, if you hadn't dated her and whoever else while I was gone. You and me, we probably would have been together, but, I don't know… I guess back when we were together before, you had a hard time separating me as your coworker and as a soldier from me as your girl. You're quite the romantic now, Commander."
He eyed the riot of wildflowers he'd surprised her with the day before. Then there was that massage he had booked for her the week before they left for Montana after a particularly trying day of parenting. He had just suggested a proper date night and he never fell asleep without saying I love you.
Maybe Lynn had been a blessing in disguise.
"I guess you're right." His lips quirked in a smile.
A knock on the door announced their guests' arrivals. "Anyone home?" Jude called out as he let himself inside.
Shelby darted through the living room and launched herself at him, "Unca Jude!" He caught her with ease, tossing her in the air. "Hey, Little Princess. Where's your mom and dad?"
The rest of the Five-0 task force piled in behind him and took turns entertaining Will and Shelby Jo. Steve watched from the corner as everyone kicked their shoes off and made themselves at home.
Ohana.
Catherine walked down the hallways of Langley. Her sensible flats barely made a sound as she padded into the briefing room.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She felt Jude nearly run into her as she froze in the doorway.
"Lieutenant Rollins." The devil smiled, "It's good to see you. I have to say, I'm glad we finally get to work together. Especially after everything I've heard about you over the years." Her hand trailed along the conference table as she walked around to stand in front of Catherine, sulfur and ash leaking out of her fingertips, "Afghanistan was an unfortunate situation, but I've always been willing to do whatever it takes to get the best people to work for us."
Catherine held her head high and looked the devil dead in the eyes, "Agent Greer."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Dun dun duhhhhh! It's been a minute since we had a cliff hanger!
Leave your reactions in the reviews, loves!
XO,
-Mags-
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