The song used in this chapter is "This Time" by John Legend and besides being my favorite of his wonderful songs, I thought it worked perfectly in this fic. If you haven't heard it, I encourage you to listen sometime.

And now we get to the emotional stuff, with just a little bit of backstory thrown in for good measure! Enjoy...

Chapter Seven – The Men Who Love Her (Pt. 1)

"I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman." ~ Anais Nin

Harper's Hotel Room, Later that Night…

It was a wine and chocolate kind of night.

Harper stood in the middle of the aisle of her hotel's gift boutique, The Gourmet Cellar, and perused the lovely little shop's lovely little selection of wine and cheese and chocolate. Of course with Hawaii being the honeymoon capital of the universe, she knew that most of the selections were for lovers who wanted to curl up together for a romantic evening. But they would also work well for a stressed out woman who was coming off one of the worst days of her life.

"Do you have any Viognier?" Harper inquired of the young sales assistant behind the counter as she placed a few varieties of chocolate in front of him. "It's my favorite white wine…"

"Never heard of it," the boy said, beginning to ring up her purchases.

"It's kind of hard to find and…never mind," she said with a sigh, noticing that the kid was barely looking at her, "Can I just get a bottle of Chardonnay?"

Picking up her bag of purchases, the redhead walked out of the boutique and headed for the nearest elevator. Not even bothering to stop at the desk to check her messages, all Harper could think of was a hot bubble bath, some relaxing music and a nice glass of wine. Just as she was stepping into the elevator, her phone went off at her hip. Glancing at the screen and sighing deeply, Harper braced herself as she answered, "Hi daddy."

"What the hell is going on down there?" Mickey James' voice boomed through the small device.

"Well, I was going to ask you the same question," his daughter retorted, shifting her bags around so that she could hold her phone more comfortably to her ear, "What the hell is going on up there?"

"I'm calling the Mayor…"

"No, don't do that," Harper pleaded, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall of the elevator, "Please don't call…"

"Well, then I'm calling that damn governor…"

"No!" Harper repeated more forcefully. Sometimes shouting was the only way to get through to the James' men. "Do not do that! Daddy, do not make this any worse by…"

"Why?" he interrupted, the frustration coming through in his voice.

"Because you have been a cop in Chicago for a long time and you know that the last thing I need right now is for my father to call my boss for me…"

"Even if your father is the Superintendent of Police?"

"Especially because my father is the Superintendent of Police," Harper sighed as she pictured him sitting behind the big mahogany desk in his office, ready to declare war on the Mayor of Chicago. "And because it won't do any good. They didn't run it by you in the first place because they knew you wouldn't approve. It's a power play and it's done."

"I have been known to pull off a few power plays of my own," he reminded her, but she could hear the defeat beginning to take over in his voice.

"I know you have," she reassured him and then teased, "You are a very powerful man and that's why I love you. But the last thing you need is get into a feud with the man who signs your paycheck. And funds your department. The city of Chicago needs you more than I do this time. I'll be okay."

"This was McGarrett's idea, wasn't it?"

Walking off the elevator toward her room, Harper could envision the scowl on his face as he asked about her ex-husband. Mickey James and Steve McGarrett were two men who were never going to come close to liking each other. Opening her hotel room door, she told her father, "Actually, I don't think it was."

"Nothing good can come from the two of you working on that island together," Mickey warned as Harper set her bags down on the counter in the small kitchenette.

"If we take down the monster who killed Sammy, that will be something good."

"I don't trust him."

"I know," Harper replied, placing her bottle of wine in the refrigerator before kicking off her boots and flopping down on the bed. She really didn't want to have this conversation with her father right now.

"He's proven that he can't be trusted. Twice," he reminded her, "And now you're working with him to go after a ruthless killer…"

"Dad, no matter what else you think of Steve, he was a phenomenal S.E.A.L.," Harper protested, lying back on her pillow and closing her eyes. "And now I'm sure he's a phenomenal cop or whatever he is. And I'm not so bad, either. So safety isn't really the issue here."

"Harper, there are so many issues here that I don't even know where to begin…"

"I know, daddy," she repeated again and then reassured him, "But I can handle Steve and I can handle this investigation."

"Of course you can," Mickey agreed as if it hadn't even crossed his mind that she couldn't. And that was just one of the many reasons why she adored her father.

"But I won't be able to handle anything unless I get some sleep," she hinted, sitting up again.

"Right," her father said, taking the hint, "You've had a big day. Pour yourself a glass of wine, run a hot bath, and get to bed early."

"They didn't have any Viognier," she mock pouted.

"I'll send you a case," he assured her and she could feel his smile all the way from Chicago.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you, baby girl."

Harper hung up her phone and began rummaging through her bag for her Ipod. Loading up her John Legend playlist and hooking it into the hotel room's sound system, she walked into the small bedroom and quickly began removing her work clothes and throwing them haphazardly on the bed. Sliding into one of the hotel's fluffy bathrobes, she headed into the bathroom to begin her relaxation routine. She had been running on pure adrenaline for months now and wasn't actually tired, but a long, hot soak in the tub sounded heavenly after the day she had. Filling up the basin of the large soaking tub with hot water and pouring in the tropical scented bubble bath provided by the hotel staff, Harper sat on the edge and circled her hand slowly in the warm, scented water. When the tub was full, she turned off the water and discarded her robe on the nearby counter. Lowering her body into the porcelain basin, she sighed with pleasure as the warm, soapy water cascaded over her weary body. Leaning her head back on a rolled up washcloth, the detective closed her eyes and finally began to relax.

"I realized I made a mistake, I thought I needed some space. But I just let love go to waste. It's so crystal clear now that I need your here now. I gotta get you back today," Harper sang softly along with her favorite song and could feel the tension begin to flow out of her overworked muscles and get lost in the floral scented bubbles. "This time I want it all, showing you all the cards, giving you all my heart. This time I'll take the chance. This time I'll be your man. I can be all you need. This time it's all of me."

The significance of the words were not lost on Harper's work addled brain as she replayed the scenes of the day…especially the ones starring her ex-husband. But after awhile, she just decided to let it go and enjoy the nothingness that filled up the space around her. Lying back against the tub, she closed her eyes and drifted off into relaxation world. After awhile, the playlist was nearing the end and Harper was contemplating the thought of getting out of the tub to restart it when she heard a pounding on her hotel room door. Her eyes flew open and she sat straight up.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself, shaking her head in disgust. She knew that knock. She'd heard it before…too many times. And ignoring it was not going to make it go away.

So Harper pulled herself out of her soothing bath and put on her robe. Pulling the belt tight around her, she made her way out into the living room area and asked through the closed door, "How did you know I was staying here?"

"Do I have to remind you what I do for a living?"

Steve's voice came through the closed door and she could practically sense his annoyance with her response.

"Go away."

"We need to talk."

"I am all talked out," she informed him, leaning her forehead against the door and willing him to go away. "I just want to go to sleep."

"Jimmy, open the door," Steve commanded, "I feel like an idiot standing out here in the hallway. People are starting to stare."

"I'm not dressed."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before…" he reminded her dryly.

Well, that's not true, Harper thought. It's all seven years…older.

"What do you want?" she asked, not sure she wanted to deal with him so soon after their last encounter.

"To come in," he repeated. "Now will you please open this door before I have to kick it in?"

Knowing that he would, she sighed and unlocked the door. Opening it up to see him casually leaning against the door frame, she retorted, "We really need to have a discussion about your boundary issues. Or lack of them."

"That hurt," her ex said, walking past her into the hotel room and instinctively let his eyes do a sweep of the place. Deciding that it met with his approval, he grinned at her and asked, "So how are you going to make it up to me?"

"You interrupted my evening. And showed up here without calling first," she shot back. "I think the better question is, how are you going to make it up to me?"

"I come bearing gifts," Steve said, holding up the bottle he was carrying, "I thought you might need this."

Harper couldn't help breaking into a smile when she saw his gift. Accepting his peace offering, she whispered softly, "Viognier."

"Still your favorite?"

"They didn't have any down in the gift shop," she informed him and then moved into the kitchenette. Holding up the box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts she had purchased earlier, she told him, "But they did have these."

"This is Hawaii, after all," Steve reminded her and then opened a drawer as he searched for a corkscrew. Finding one, he asked, "Shall I do the honors?"

Harper hesitated for a moment and then realized that he was already in the room…what could a glass of wine really hurt. One glass. With a sigh, she walked past him and said, "I'll change."

"Not on my account, I hope," he said, glancing up from the bottle of wine just in time to get a glimpse of those long, shapely legs of hers peeking out from under the short bathrobe as she disappeared into the bathroom. By the time she returned, clad simply in a pair of cropped gray yoga pants and a baby blue tank top, he had the wine poured and set out on the table in the living area and was already helping himself to some chocolate.

"Well, this is cozy," she quipped, stepping over his legs, which he had propped up on the table, and taking the glass that he held out to her.

"Good?" he asked, watching her take a sip as she settled herself into a nearby chair.

"Nothing like a good, dry white wine at the end of a monster day," she remarked, savoring the fruity taste on her tongue before adding, "And I'm not even going to ask how you managed to get it here perfectly chilled. Must be something you learned how to do in S.E.A.L. school."

"Yes, it was," he retorted, refraining from admitting that he kept a few bottles chilled at the house but never had the heart to drink them with anyone but her, "because after Combat Swimming and Close Quarters Combat Training, Wine Chilling was the next popular course."

"Well, Navy guys are definitely classy," she shot back, playing along with him and allowing herself to relax.

After a moment, Steve remarked, "You seem different."

"Taller?" she joked, "Hotter?"

"Older," he said without thinking and grimaced at how that must have sounded.

"Ouch," the redhead exclaimed, but then decided to let him off the hook by saying, "Well it's been... almost seven years. We're not kids anymore."

He nodded and then asked seriously, "You still beating yourself up over those girls in San Diego?"

God, he knew her so well. But instead of admitting to it, Harper took another sip of her wine before she replied, "Not as much as I used to."

"Still drinking?"

And now she was annoyed. Holding her wine glass up in a mock toast to him, she drawled sarcastically, "Not as much as I used to." As she watched him watch her, she asked, "You worried about me, Stevie? Is that what this little visit is all about?"

"No…"

"Because you weren't exactly my safe port in the storm last time, were you? So I really don't need you to try and overcompensate by…" Harper let her voice trail off as she shook her head. Feeling the anger rising up within her, she took a deep breath and said, "Look, I don't want to do this with you right now. A lot has happened since you left. And I want to fill you in but... I don't know if I feel comfortable doing that yet."

"Right," he agreed with a nod of his head, "You're still mad."

"No, it's not even that anymore," she confessed, leaning her head back against the chair, "But when you left and you just disappeared, it was a kick in the gut for me. And I carried that around for a long time." Unshed tears singed the back of her eyes and she had to keep biting down on her bottom lip to hold them back while also reminding herself that she did not cry; she did not come apart for anyone. Not anymore. Certainly not for Steve, of all people. Trying to control the emotion in her voice, she added quietly, "You were the last person that I wanted to see again...ever. But at the same time, you were the only person that I wanted to see again."

"I know," was his quiet response. And for some reason, she wanted to believe that he did know. Harper wanted to believe that his decision to leave her was the hardest he had ever made in his life. Setting down his wine glass on the table, he sat on the edge of the couch as he turned to face her and said, "Listen, you asked me a question today and then stormed out before I got a chance to answer. I have an answer. I actually had one at the time. That's why I came here. Do you want to hear it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes."

Harper searched his handsomely familiar face for some kind of sign as to what he was going to say, but to her dismay she couldn't find anything. So, letting out a deep breath and preparing herself for whatever was to come, she quietly answered, "Fine. Answer."

"Do you remember the weekend of your friend Julie's wedding…the one in Sonoma?"

How could I forget that weekend? she thought, but simply nodded her head in response.

"And we were at the reception in the middle of this vineyard with that couple…" he reminded her, "The ones with the baby…"

"Mike and Sarah," she provided.

"Yeah, Mike and Sarah. And Allison was the baby, right?" He looked to her for confirmation and she nodded again, wondering where this was going. Quickly, he continued, "Well at some point during the wedding, you were holding baby Allison and I was hanging out with some of the guys by the bar. And for some reason, you turned to look at me and you smiled. And I knew, in that moment, that I was looking at my future."

He paused and Harper blinked quickly, surprised by his words as he went on, "You, holding that baby, smiling at me like I was the only guy in the room…it took my breath away. I've never felt that way before…I've never felt that way since. I loved that feeling. I loved you. And that's why I married you."

He took a deep breath and paused to let that sink in for a moment before he said softly, "Somewhere along the way, we lost that. And I know I let you down. But it was never my intention to make you feel like you weren't enough for me." Reaching out instinctively and taking her smaller hands in his larger ones, Steve added, "You were everything. And I'm sorry if my leaving made you feel that you weren't. I'm so sorry."

Harper's eyes filled with tears and she had to pull her hands away from his and look away. She had promised herself that if she ever saw him again that she wouldn't come undone. Not at all. But then again, she hadn't planned on seeing him for a good twenty years at least. But he was here now and he was looking at her with such guilt and genuine devastation in his eyes. Where did that come from?

"I can't do this right now," she whispered, standing up and moving away from the couch, away from the wine, away from him. "This conversation…I can't…"

"I know," Steve replied, standing up and moving towards the door. "I just didn't want you to go on thinking that it didn't mean anything to me. Because it did. It meant everything."

She had moved over to the windows and was gazing out at the beach, refusing to look at him, so he silently moved over to the kitchenette and put a new phone down on the counter saying, "I had Kono pre-program this with all of our numbers and other information you're going to need, so keep this handy at all times."

Still she wouldn't turn to look at him, so Steve opened the door and before he left he told her, "Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow."