More than Love

Summary: Tie-in and continuation oneshots to my story Love is not enough, prompted and original ones.

Pairings: Steve/Cath, minor Kono/Adam and Danny/Gabby

To Guest (separation fic request): Thank you for that wonderful prompt. I have actually two ideas to realize it. One is a oneshot or shortfic set during their separation due to Cath being send overseas in season 2.

Your review has also inspired me to a sequel story to the AU version of I Helu Pu I have been thinking of for quite a while. Yes, I know it's weird that I'm thinking about a sequel to a story I haven't actually written yet, but my mind has always worked a little strangely when it comes to fanfiction.

This AU story is actually the next one I plan to work on, though it would still be some time for your request to pop up. I'll write the oneshot/shortfic sometime in between when I have a free moment (it's exam time at my uni). Would that be alright?

To lilAzIaNpride24: The first draft for the nightmare story is complete, but it still needs some finishing touches. I'm not quite sure yet where to place it in More than Love. There will be one or two more oneshots before I put it online, because I think it is long overdue for the boys to get to grips with the Kono/Adam situation. Hope you don't mind.

Games and Confrontations

Steve cut off the engine, and looked at her. Catherine was pale, but confident. There was an air of uncompromising determination around her. She didn't turn to face him immediately, instead gazing out the windshield at the imposing building in front of them. He knew she would go through with this no matter what he said. If she felt she needed to do this, he would back her up every step of the way, but the thought of letting her anywhere near that animal again, and with only a small glass window to separate them, made him sick to the stomach. Reaching out a hand, he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, at the same time catching her attention. Catherine turned in her seat to face him as fully as his truck would allow.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"I do, though. Steve, I need answers, and I'm not gonna get them if I don't ask. Please tell me you understand that?"

Oh, he understood, alright. Probably better than anyone. Asking the right questions, and continuing to ask even when the odds were stacked against him was how he had found out about WO Fat and his involvement in his own family's drama. He still had questions he knew he would never be given answers to, because Wo Fat was dead. He could not deny Catherine the chance to put her mind to rest while she still could.

"You're sure you don't want me to come with you?", he asked for the nth time that day alone. She smiled slightly at his insistence, but shook her head in a clear negative. Leaning into his hand, she kissed the palm.

"I have to do this. Alone."

"I don't like the thought of you alone with Foster."

"There will be an officer in the room – an uninvolved officer," she added firmly when she saw him open his mouth to say something. Steve gave her a look, but she remained unfazed. She gripped his hand, and pressed it closer to her cheek. It was so warm. Steve was always warm, and the gentle touch of his calloused hand was like a security blanket for her. No matter how much she wanted to hide away from the world in his embrace, she couldn't live that kind of sheltered life. She needed answers, and Ben had them. It was only a matter of asking, and Commander Klesko had been right; the courage was inside her. She just had to scrap it together. Catherine knew she wouldn't find peace if she didn't find answers first.

"I'll be right outside the door," Steve stated in a tone of voice that allowed no room for discussion, "and if he does anything – anything at all, I'll-"

"Kiss it better?", Catherine suggested with a soft smile as she witnessed the state of agitation to which her boyfriend had worked himself up.

Steve looked at her, a little dumbfounded. She had taken the wind out of his sails with such a short, innocent phrase that she still managed to turn into an innuendo. His anger crumbled a little under her soft gaze, and when she kissed the palm of his hand again, it all but slunk back into the depths of his being. It didn't disappear, but it was appeased for the time being.

"How do you do that?", he asked in a wondrous tone.

"It's not me. You're just smitten," she answered with a wide grin, and he chuckled.

"That I am." He leaned in closer until his forehead touched hers gently. "I have been for the longest time."

Next thing he knew, she was kissing him. There was no space between them, no air to be breathed, and they didn't care. Her hands caressed his cheeks, and his went to cradle the back of her head as her sweet tongue delved into his mouth. Just as quickly as it had begun, Catherine ended their moment of intimacy again. With a mischievous smile, she indicated the guard post just inside the prison gates with her head, reminding him that there was a prison near by if they felt the need to be arrested for public indecency.

"What was that for?", he asked her as she opened the door, and began climbing out of the car. Once she stood beside it, she looked back at him and answered.

"Because I can."

She pushed the door closed, and they made their way into the prison. Steve himself had made the call, so that they wouldn't have to wait long for Ben Foster to be led out to the visiting room. They were standing in front of it now, and Catherine's true nervousness was beginning to show. She paced a few feet up and down in front of the door that would lead her to her meeting, leaving Steve on the other side of it. She had gone a little paler, but her determination to see this through still shone in her eyes. Steve recognized that look, and had he not seen it reflected in her dark orbs, he would have slung her over his shoulder if necessary, but he would have gotten her out of there in a heartbeat.

"You sure?", he asked again, nonetheless. If there was a single doubt in her mind, now was the last chance to back out. When she looked up at him, though, he could see her gaze harden and her jaw set, so he nodded slowly. A prison warden stepped up to them, nodding to McGarrett in respect before turning to Catherine.

"They're ready to lead him inside, ma'am. Just give the sign."

"Thank you, officer." Catherine looked back to Steve for a moment, then she opened the door and went in without hesitation. The warden took that as his cue. Steve couldn't help the worry creeping over his face as his gaze kept flitting between the door and where the warden had disappeared off to.

5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0

Catherine sat down, and took a deep breath to calm herself. Her heart was racing in her chest as if it intended to jump right out of it. Her hands had turned sweaty in the few moments since she'd come into the room, and she had to keep a tight reign on her unusually skittish confidence or she would get up and get out in a heartbeat. She couldn't believe how nervous she was, and was suddenly glad that Steve had insisted on her meeting Ben in the usual visitation room. He had originally wanted to sit down with him in a room apart, like the ones Steve and Danny used to talk prisoners into helping them bring down another bad guy, but Steve had categorically refused to even consider this option. She had been pissed at him, because she had felt like he didn't trust her to take care of herself anymore, like he thought she was some kind of helpless little birdie, but now she was only grateful.

The movement of something orange caught her attention, and brought her out of her reverie. Looking up, she saw that Ben stood in front of her, making no move to sit down. He was clearly surprised to see her, and made a turn to leave again, but the officer who accompanied him wouldn't budge. Not the usual procedure, and she had no doubt that Steve had something to do with it. She was grateful for that, too. She would not let him leave without answering her. Seeing as he had no choice in the matter, Ben sat down, and took the phone. The officer backed away to give them some privacy.

"I would have expected less barriers for a conjugal visit," Ben snorted. Catherine internally bristled with the implication, but didn't let anything show on her face. "Since this is not it, apparently, let's keep this short. What do you want, Cathy?"

Now that she was across from him, and could look him in the eye, Catherine felt a wave of calm wash over her. It was not the happy sort of calm, there was no content in seeing him again. No, this calm was vicious like a cat lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to jump her unsuspecting prey. This man before her, she realized, had nothing to offer her. She wanted answers to find some peace, to know to which extend he had played her, but she was not looking for any kind of redemption for him. Only the answers interested her. She didn't expect remorse, and she wasn't here to grant forgiveness.

"I want to know why," she stated simply.

Ben didn't answer, so she probed him further.

"Why did you play me? What have I ever done to you? When did you become involved with Wo Fat? Were you looking for me the day we met, or was that still genuine? Was the whole thing a set up from the start, or did you truly care for me at one point? Those are the questions I want answers to, and I'm gonna get them."

After she elaborated, Ben bit his lip in contemplation. He studied her for a long time, and she felt herself grow restless under his gaze. She just wanted him to talk. He was already in prison, and wasn't ever getting out again, so why wouldn't he just answer her. Maybe he felt that not answering would bother her more than the answers themselves. She didn't know, but she kept his gaze locked with hers, and she made it clear that she would not back down. At last, a chuckle escaped the man in front of her.

"That was some day, huh?", he asked smiling. Catherine grit her teeth. She did not want to go down memory lane with him.

(Flashback)

The sun was blazing in the sky, the beach was cooking in the 35° degree weather, the waves were crashing loudly on the shore, and Catherine was in the mood to forget her problems for a little bit. She had just broken it off with the man she had been seeing/dating/sleeping with for the past seven years or so, and the pain was still atrociously fresh, but she wasn't going to think about that. A total psychopath had threatened to kill everybody she loved, and then make her watch Steve die in front of her lest she break it off, but she wouldn't think about that either. Or about the fact that the stupid idiot had bought every single lie she had said to him despite the huge argument she'd had with him when he had actually brought them up.

Nope, not thinking about it, Catherine lied to herself quietly.

And because she was not thinking about it, she rammed her surf board into the sand with a little more force than strictly necessary. Laying her towel out over the sand, and placing her beach bag on top, she decided to apply another layer of sunscreen to ward off any unwanted burns in this heated weather. She couldn't quite reach every spot on her back, at least not without untangling herself from her bikini top, but that was fine. Taking her board again, she headed for the ocean, and immersed herself in its refreshing, powerful waves.

Once she was up on the board, she thought of nothing but the exhilaration she felt with every sweet curve she painted into the water. There was nothing like the freedom awarded by riding the waves as if one were taming the treacherous, indomitable sea. Tiny droplets of water running down her body cooled her heated skin, a brisk breeze took up her hair, and pulled it in every direction, and the water looked so inviting that she dove in on purpose a couple of times before going back for more.

During one other ride another surfer suddenly came up to her from the side. Their paths crossed, and it send them both swimming. Catherine felt the water envelop her in its yielding grip, but the crash itself was hard. She had no way of regulating the fall, and landed in the water flat on her back. The first touch still stung as if she had been whipped when she finally made it out onto the beach with her board. She looked around to find the idiot who had sent them flying, and noticed that he was struggling to get out of the water. She placed her board down in the sand forcefully again – she'd had it with idiot men for a while – and marched over to him. Hooking her leg out, and giving him a light shove at the same time she had him pinned to the sandy beach. Both her hands were on his shoulders as she glared at him. His dark eyes looked up at her with surprise and a healthy dose of concern when he saw how pissed she was. He started exhaling forcefully when the remnants of a wave crashed over him, probably getting into his nose, and Catherine finally let up.

"That should teach you to be more careful when you're surfing. Both of us could have been seriously hurt," she said before she got off him. She didn't offer him a hand to get up before walking away, but he followed her quickly.

"You know, assault is a criminal offense," he replied in a smooth, unconcerned tone as he joined her.

"What exactly would you call your stint on the board?! Believe me, brah, on this island, dropping in on someone's wave is the worse offense," she retorted with a laugh. "Besides, in the Navy we call that a love tab."

"Navy, huh?", he murmured. "Guess you're right. You'll have to forgive my misinterpretation, then. In my defense, I left the service a while ago."

Catherine raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You're a sailor?", she asked, suddenly with a sinking feeling in her gut. This was not happening.

"Worst of the worst – a JAG lawyer," he informed her with a smile and an extended hand. "Now I work at a private law firm here in Honolulu. Name's Ben Foster."

"Lieutenant Catherine Rollins, and you're in good company. I'm one of the geeks, too," she replied, taking his hand. A lawyer. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"For an Intelligence girl, you knock someone down with the grace of experience."

She grinned. Yep, not so bad.

"SEAL father and brothers. I had to learn how to hold my own early on," Catherine explained with true cheer. Her relationship with her parents may not be close anymore, but she bloody loved her father for not sending her to riding camps in the holidays, and her brothers always brought a smile to her face. Just like her adopted ones, but she wasn't thinking about that.

"You still mad at me for the wave thing?", Ben asked carefully, and there was a hint of something in his voice that made her feel warm and yet shiver-y as his soft dark eyes never wandered from her face despite what little she was wearing. She pretended to thinking about it for a few moments, stepping back and taking a good long look at him. He wasn't overly muscular, but still well-defined and the Hawaiian sun had clearly done wonders for his complexion. She recognized a fake tan when she saw one, and this wasn't it. He obviously came out to the beach a lot, perhaps to surf or swim. He kept in shape, and that was something she could relate to. His face was angular and handsome, his brown hair a few shades lighter than her own, and his dark eyes matched hers perfectly. All in all, very easy on the eyes as his appearance gave her no reminder of the last sailor she had spoken to.

"Yes, I am, but I'm willing to let you make it up to me," she responded eventually with an emphatic nod. The gentle smile that had been present on his face so far grew a little self-satisfied at her answer, and she mentally snorted at the generic male ego. Nonetheless, she let him invite her to lunch, and things went on from there...

(End of Flashback)

"Damn it, Ben, answer me!", Catherine bit out. "Was that day the starter's gun for the whole set up, or did Wo Fat rope you in later? And why would you do this to me anyway? What have I ever done to you?! I-"

"Nothing, you self-centered bitch. Absolutely nothing," Ben interrupted her brusquely. "Don't you get it? It was never about you; at least not for me. Wo Fat might have had it out for you, but to me you were inconsequential. I just did it for the money."

Catherine took a calming breath.

"The money?", she deadpanned. All this hurt, and it was all so he could make some cash?

"Yeah. He told me to go to the beach that day, and Michael Noshimori pointed you out to me. Then I crashed your wave, and you know the rest of the story."

Catherine closed her eyes briefly. She had suspected as much, but to hear first hand to what length Wo Fat had gone just to hurt her and Steve was an entirely different experience. All those hours talking over a lunch both of them barely touched, so wrapped up in their own little world that food seemed... as he had put it, inconsequential now. She remembered the cold fury on Steve's face when he spoke to her in the car, and now she could understand it perfectly. She felt the same bile of anger rise in her stomach. It fought like a caged animal to be freed from its constraints, and unleash itself on its intended target. Once more Catherine was grateful for the location of their meeting. Had the glass wall not been there, she might not have been able to guarantee for her actions.

As it was, her hand on the small space in front of her curled into a fist, then uncurled again so she could slap her flat hand against the glass. Ben smirked slightly at her lack of restraint, and the sound caught the attention of the warden. He came over briefly to take note of the situation. Without any immediate danger, he must have decided that she was entitled to her anger, because he left again almost instantly. Catherine's jaw was set, and her lips were a pale, thin line that suggested no pity or compassion. She took her hand away from the glass, and gave Ben a disgusted look.

"I was inconsequential?... You never cared at all, did you?" Her voice was even when she spoke, but it was a question nonetheless.

"I doubt Wo Fat intended for you to live even if you hadn't screwed McGarrett. That, of course, triggered the whole messy torture business, but it would have been foolish to feel anything for you. It would have had no future."

He looked her over once.

"Still, there were a moments when I thought about asking if Wo Fat would leave you to me. You are a good woman, easy on the eyes, and not too high maintenance. I might have genuinely liked you if I hadn't, from the outset, known you were meant to die, and there were times when I thought I would like to pursue that possibility."

"I see..."

Catherine looked down, trying to gather her thought. Then, abruptly, she slammed the earpiece back into its holding device, stood up and left. She could hear Ben calling after her to visit anytime, but she had what she had come for, and vowed never to return to talk to him. She did not turn to look back at him, but simply made her way out of the room. When she opened the door, she met Steve's concerned gaze. He hadn't let the door leave his sight for an instant. She gave him a wave as a sign that they would discuss it later. For now she just wanted to get out of here, and put as many miles between herself and that – Steve had called him animal earlier, but Catherine didn't find it fitting enough – asshole as possible.

Steve followed her to his truck without protest. When they had climbed in, he grasped her hand, and squeezed it once. He drove them both home, and didn't say anything even when she marched straight through to his lanai, disposing of her shoes. Instead he got some iced tea out of the fridge, filled two glasses, and joined her. She took the glass gratefully, then looked back at the ocean for a long time while he was looking at her. The wind was playing with her hair, and even with her unreadable expression she looked stunning in the bright sunshine. He wondered what Foster had said to her that had upset her so. Then again, maybe he had merely said exactly what she expected him to say. Steve knew from personal experience that knowing something to be true, and having someone slap it in your face were two very different things. Nothing could ever quite prepare someone for the kind of pain that came from direct confrontation with and ugly matter.

She didn't need him to tell her that everything would be alright. The situation was resolved, she was getting better after her trauma, and she had gotten her answers. All she needed now was time to process them. So instead of questioning her, he reigned in his curiosity, and led her over to a sun lounger. Sitting down, he pulled her down with him, and waited for her to relax against his chest. When she did, he began caressing over her hair and cheek with a gentle hand in order to soothe her through her contemplation. After a while she turned in his embrace until she could bury her face in the crook of his neck. It was clear that she was upset even if she had already imagined Foster's answers, but she wasn't wasting another tear on the bastard, and that was something.

"I don't know whether to be angry or sad," she finally admitted. "Part of me wanted to strangle him with the phone cord, another part wanted to curl up into a ball and cry because I thought I could trust him, and he's been playing me the entire time."

Steve remained quiet to let her talk it through. Her voice was so calm, so detached that he thought a storm must surely be coming.

"The largest part, though, is just disappointed in myself. I let him play me. I should have known there was something wrong – I mean, come on, it was just too perfect. Why couldn't I see that?!", she huffed, growing louder with every word. She tore a hand through her hair none too gently, and he grabbed her wrist carefully to pull it away.

"Hey, hey, you couldn't have known. You're not a mind reader."

"Funny, Commander Klesko said the same thing." She didn't sound amused.

"Then listen to her; she's right. He played all of us, Cath."

"Yeah, but I was with him most. I should have noticed that there was something wrong. I did notice!... There were these phone calls; they always made him angry, but I thought it was just a tough case or his boss or something else at work. Looking back, it must have been instructions from Wo Fat. Probably telling him how to wrap me around his finger. I wonder how much of our time together was orchestrated by him..."

She seemed intent on beating herself up about this, but Steve wasn't having it.

"You did the right thing, Cath, you tried to move on," he told her, whispering because he could barely get the words past the bile in his throat at the thought of almost having lost her forever. "I pushed you away, and you tried to move on. That's normal; it's healthy. I was the one who hid himself in his paperwork. I had provoked it, but I couldn't handle it. You went out there and dealt with it. Don't ever feel sorry for that."

He turned her around to face him, lying half on top of him.

"You were the strong one, and I love that about you. I love you."

Catherine smiled slightly.

"You love my faults too, huh?"

She kissed him before he could answer, and as one kiss turned into two, into three, into more, they forgot all about talking to each other.

End

A/N: Not an entirely satisfying encounter for Catherine, but I just don't think something like this would have been.