*This is Dedicated to High-Guardian, one of my most dedicated readers, and a good friend, for her birthday!*

The Professional

AvalonReeseFanFics

A/N: Hello my wonderful readers! For those of you who are new, welcome, for those of you who are from my other fic Rewrite, hello! So what we have here, is a fic that is not directly tied to Rewrite, but a part of the rewrite universe. This, in particular, is an alternate reality. (Those who have read my Rewrite fic, will know that it was mentioned that there were alternate realities with Steve and Rowan in them and this is one of them.

This one in particular would be how Steve met Rowan if she were to have been born in his world. This takes place during Season 8. It will not be even remotely close to how long Rewrite is. It should only be 21 chapters (give or take). The prologue is fast paced and shorter than usual, but all the chapters should be shorter than Rewrite's chapters. As per usual, don't forget to leave a review, or drop a fav and a like and I'll see you guys next Wednesday!

Prologue

Gunshots.

Blood splatters.

Slow down! Slow down!

Flashes of blondes with angry sneers and matching acid green eyes. Crispy sequential bills raining down from the heavens.

Dirty, tear stained faces of young girls, fear and haunted nightmares in their eyes.

A giant, bone snapping, ear-drum bursting crash.

250mph of black and silver chrome steel crashing against stone and city ordered metal.

And then water. Waves crashing, water sloshing.

Trevor! Trevor!

Crunching. Crushing. Scraping.

Don't leave me. Shouted at unfeeling glaring brown eyes.

Darkness. Stars and then the glare of lights, all the light paired with a terrible desire to move, to run. The sun rises blinding her awake.

A woman walks. Blood drops from her in casual splatters against the pavement. She walks, slowly, staggeringly, a hoody over her eyes hiding her distinctive hair color and the secondary damage done to her face. She has a course in mind. An address and name hastily copied to the skin of her hand in permanent black ink.

Nothing else matters except getting there.

H5O-H5O-H5O-H5O

Steve bent over the hood of his car, fiddling with the engine of his father's Marquis. He had a day off, and it was going to be a quiet one. Danny was spending all of his time with Grace, Tani and Junior were off driving each other crazy so it was just him and Eddie.

He was so absorbed with the job that he didn't even notice something was wrong until Eddie started growling. He looked up from the engine hood to Eddie who had gone from lying down to standing. His eyes were pointed at the opening of his garage.

Steve followed the dog's gaze and found that there was a girl standing at the mouth of the garage. She wore grey leggings, and a black hoody. What he could see of her red and blonde hair was bedraggled and soaking wet. Water was dripping off of her as she stood here staring at him, at least she might have been staring at him, with the hood shadowing her face he couldn't quite tell.

"Uh… hello?" he offered, his hand reaching for the toolbox that had his gun in it. A lifetime of ambushes keeping him paranoid

"Are… are you McGarrett?" she asked. Her voice was clear but shaking. His eyes narrowed at her, why the hell was this girl looking for him?

"Yes…" he answered carefully. He picked up a rag and rubbed his hands clean, he noted that Eddie was staring at her not growling anymore but he was starting to whine like he was worried.

"Oh good… great…" she said breaking off into loud laughter. "She said… she said you'd help me…"

She? Help? What the hell was going on? He looked down, he looked down for less than two seconds to step around Eddie without stepping on him saying: "Uh… I'd like to help you but I don't know who you are or what's going on…" and when he looked up, she was gone.

Steve scanned the garage surprised. Where the hell had she gone? He rushed towards the front of the garage and was not happy with what he found.

The girl was on the ground, in an uncomfortable heap, her body was convulsing lightly and water was pooling around her. Why the hell was she so wet?

Steve rolled her onto her back to get a better look at her. Her hand seemed to be cradling her side and that was when noticed the red that was seeping into the puddle around her.

Oh fuck.

Steve unzipped her hoody quickly and found the cause of the bleed.

A gunshot wound to her left side.

Double fuck.

"Oh, okay," he said, pulling his phone out. "It's okay. I got you, you're gonna be okay."

"I wanna go home," she whispered in breathless hitching gasps.

The hoody had fallen from her face revealing a starburst pattern of red gashes, flashing with shards of glass embedded in her skin, a swelling of purple under her jaw, a trickle of blood under her nose, and a single eye drooping of its own free will.

What the hell had happened to this girl?

"Don't worry. I got this. I got you," he whispered to her, his phone already in his hand, his other hand putting pressure on her wound. "This is Steve McGarrett of Five-0. I need an ambulance to my home ASAP. I have an unidentified female with a GSW to her abdomen, still conscious but fading fast."

He dropped his phone as the EMT continued to talk to him, continued to give him updates about the arrival of the ambulance.

"I just wanna go home," she said again as Steve put both hands to her wound, the more pressure the better. Her fingers came to grip his wrist and their eyes locked. An electricity crackled through them that he hadn't felt since Catherine.

Suddenly his heart was in his mouth pouring out words he had no business saying to her.

"I'm going to get you home, if it's the last thing you do, I'll get you home," he promised. Though god knows why he did. It wasn't a promise he could keep. The girl was in bad shape, she may not make it. "Just stay with me. Tell me… tell me your name…"

The girl fell back, her body going limp beneath him, her grip starting to fall away. Her eyes narrowing. Like the energy was draining from her body like the sand in an hourglass. "No, no, don't you do this to me. Stay awake. Stay awake!" he ordered.

A dreamy smile spread across her bloodied, chapped lips. "She was right. A regular knight in shining armour."

What the hell did that even mean? But he couldn't ask her, because as soon as she got that sentence out of her, she lost consciousness. It didn't matter how much Steve shouted or shook her, nothing could rouse her.

The wail of the sirens was a welcome commotion. And a great precursor to the silence of the hospital that he'd soon be regaled to.

H5O-H5O-H5O-H5O

His name and address were written on the inside of her arm below a beautiful script tattoo reading: I'll always be with you even if you can't see me.

It was the first in a set of perplexing clues. None of which helped him figure out who she was.

Her injuries helped a little. They were all consistent with a car crash, except for the gun shot wound, of course. Bruised and broken ribs. Windshield glass in her face and her hands. Powder from the air bag going off in her hair. It was also probably the reason why she had a bruised jaw and bloodied nose.

That didn't tell him who she was, but it told him to look for a car accident within walking distance from his place.

She had been wet, which meant everything in her pockets were wet too.

An accident by the water.

Narrowing it down.

He had examined all of the odds and ends he found tucked into her shallow jean pockets.

Why were women's pockets so damn small?

Everything was soggy and almost illegible.

But he knew one was a set of directions, he wasn't sure what they were leading to, but it looked like it was leading to a conservation area no where near his place. The next was a severely defaced business card. Us Marshal. Only thing legible on the front was three letters. Mal. A set of numbers and letters had been written on the back. Steve had no idea what they meant.

Garbom1 RHPPRO2101

CS=PRO

011 8816 31049999

Gibberish. They meant nothing to him. But they'd mean something to her and he'd ask her about them when she woke up.

By the time she was out of surgery to close the wound in her side, Steve had found the car accident she was in. The first car in the accident had been run off the bridge, the driver dead behind the wheel. The second car, presumably hers as it was empty, had gone over the bridge shortly after but landed in the shallows only half submerging the car.

They had found the inside coated with blood, the windshield shattered but nothing of importance or identifying was in the car. The only thing they could say for certain was that the car was reported stolen a few days ago and it was assumed it would be taken to a chop shop to be sold for parts. Part of a recent rash of car thefts that Duke had been investigating.

So, she was a car thief and she had run someone off the road. Self defense? Or Vehicular manslaughter?

Looking at her peaceful pale face feathered by red and blonde hair fanned out on her pillow, her pink lips slightly open as she breathed, he wanted to think that it was self defense. But Steve had a lot of questions.

Who had told her to come to him? Who had told her she'd be safe with him? Who was she? Where was she from? What did she need him to save her from?

Why the hell did he find her so pretty?

All very important questions, but until the girl woke up, he wouldn't be able to get his answers.

So, Steven was going to wait, right there beside her, so when she woke up, she still felt safe and he could get his answers.