April 27th, Saturday

1030 hours

McGarrett Home

(29 days' radio silence since last text message; 74 days since first text message)

Danny knocks on Steve's door a few moments after he's finished his swim. Having decided to resume his daily exercise routine, Steve wonders why he ever stopped. Not only is it great exercise – and had he forgotten he loves the ocean? – it also affords him clarity to mentally sort out his affairs and clear his mind. Danny hasn't forgotten Steve's offer of honesty, but despite his curiosity, he decides not to be intrusive, because his best friend hasn't broached the subject again. He brings beers and they sit on the water's edge mulling over their thoughts in silence, until Danny's curiosity gets the better of him.

"OK, Steve, I'm sorry but I think I've been patient enough. About two weeks ago you mentioned wanting to talk about what's been going on with you, but then you got whisked away by Agent Prentiss and you haven't mentioned what he told you or what you wanted to talk to me about. What is going on?"

Steve sighs, half expecting the questions to surface at some point. "Danny, he got Eddie Friske to testify against William Prentiss in exchange for a reduced sentence. He's small fry, so the FBI was more than willing to take the bait. He decided to let us in on it and request our help, should the need arise."

Danny's eyebrows knit together, showing surprise. "Wow, that's… big."

"I know. Sorry I didn't tell you about it the next day, but he asked me to keep it under wraps until the final deal was sealed. He gave me a call two days ago to let me know Eddie Friske has been offered – and granted - a reduced sentence by the DA's office. Ellie was involved in brokering the deal. She told me it was a win-win. So everyone's supposed to be happy. And our serial killer in the forest case kept us awake for the last 72 hours, so there was no way I could tell you what had happened in front of everyone else."

"Steve, it's fine. I'm just happy that's over and done with."

Steve huffs, not amused. "If only."

Danny rolls his eyes, frustrated at Steve. "Look, I know you want to bring Al-Nazri to justice. And I hope we will be able to. But at least this part of the case is finished, right?"

"Right," and he smiles, trying to see things from his best friend's perspective.

"So… just before you were invited to sit in on Friske's interrogation, you told me you wanted to talk. So, let's talk."

The look that crosses Steve's face, at that very moment, happens in a fleeting second, but Danny catches it. Steve definitely does NOT want to make use of this makeshift confessional-by-the-sea, on this beautiful Saturday morning. He sits back, unsure of how he feels about his best friend's offer, or maybe of how much he should disclose and how. Lately, he's been realising he no longer thinks of Catherine at unexpected hours of the day, every day; the longing he feels for her has turned into a dull ache, that he manages to ensconce in his insides when he's in company, or working, like an old battle wound that aches when the weather turns. Of course, that doesn't mean that he has stopped thinking of her when he's alone with his thoughts or that, when he does, the hurt has somehow subsided. It hasn't - he's never been more sure that he wants to find her and sit her down to talk. Maybe even pin her to his bed and never let her go. This is also the reason he's come to dread going home, these days, and why he's been a lot more sociable, of late, a curious paradox. Everyone in the Ohana welcomes his happier, more sociable side, and there's even been talk of trying to introduce him to female friends or acquaintances with indifference on his part, not outright disgust. Danny, however, is not fooled. He knows Steve too well to fully believe in this change of attitude, especially since he can sense an undercurrent of sadness in him, almost like he's lost and doesn't know where he wants to go. However, in a gesture of real maturity and tolerance, he lets Steve off the hook.

"It's OK, Steve, you don't have to talk if you don't want to."

Steve sighs, smiling sadly. He looks at the linger and lapse of the water and swallows a lump in his throat. "It's not that I don't want to talk, Danny… it's just that I really don't know what to think about all that's been going on in my life. I need time to make sense of everything."

Danny turns to Steve, curious. "But… hasn't Dr. Alana been helping you with that?"

"Yes, but… he doesn't present me with the solutions. He listens and tries to guide me, so I can reach my own conclusions and decide how I want to proceed. And that is a process in and of itself. It takes time and effort, and it unearths a lot of truths that are painful and buried deep. You know, my parents, my life in the navy, my relationships…"

"Does that mean that you're considering dating again?" He's half serious, half joking, since he probably knows the answer.

"Danny, I was talking in general. About the width and breadth of subjects that we covered in my appointments. I was not being specific." He sighs, and looks right. "I know you want me to start dating again, because you somehow think that it'll make me a happier person, but I am not ready."

"Why? Why, Steve? I mean, what was so wrong with Lynn, for example? I thought she was perfect – a nice, beautiful girl, no drama, stable, lived AND worked here, clearly loved you..."

"There was nothing wrong with her, she was a great girlfriend, Danny - for someone else. You can't compare where you don't compete. I guess when we started dating, I did it for a number of reasons that weren't the best. I wanted to move on, forget Catherine, show her I could be happy with someone else, show her what she was missing, what she had voluntarily given up. I guess I felt second best, after all she had chosen the CIA over me. Like my mother."

Danny sighs, frustrated. "I knew it."

"What, Danny?" Steve asks, slightly annoyed. Here he is, trying to open up, and Danny is being his usual critical self.

Danny realises he's put his foot in his mouth and backs down. "No, nothing, it's just that it had occurred to me that you've been moodier and more pensive of late, and that it had something to do with taking stock of your life – and that, naturally, includes the women in it."

Steve huffs, looking away. "Catherine wasn't 'a woman', Danny," and now he stares at him. "She was the one. You think that I ever wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, wondering what Lynn is doing? If she's happy? If one day, maybe, she'll knock on my door and tell me she wants me back, or if she's met someone else and is happy, happier than she was with me? And do you imagine that would ever make bat an eyelash?"

Danny stays perfectly still, listening intently to Steve's every word, feeling his pain. Finally, he breaks the silence. "I guess I had hoped you had really moved on."

"I know, buddy. But apparently, the heart wants what the heart wants and we do not have a say. Look at you and Rachel. You're still in love with her, however much you try to deny it."

"Let's leave Rachel out of this conversation."

"Let's not, Danny. You're praying for something, for me, that you yourself haven't been able to achieve. And instead of understanding, you keep pushing me against the rocks. But it's no use, Danny. When Catherine showed up in Montana, I just…" he sighs again, loudly. "It's like she ruined me, she showed me what any man should look for in a relationship, how happy he can be… if there had never been a Cath, maybe I could've been happy with a Lynn. Or if my first Cath hadn't been such a perfect match for me. But as it stands… I know how happy I can be in a relationship, how easy it can be, because Lynn was a constant effort. And I can't settle for anything less, even if that means being alone for the rest of my life," lowering his voice, he adds, "since that's what it seems that I'll be getting."

"No, Steve, you're wrong. Catherine wasn't the right woman for you. She left, without an explanation, chose the CIA over you, lied, hid things from you… she didn't give a damn about you, I mean, why did she come back for Kono's wedding and get your hopes up, when she knew she was going to leave again? Indefinitely? It was cruel! Why do you keep wanting her? God, I don't get it!"

"Because I love her, Danny. I tried to fight it, but it's no use. Look, I love you for your fierce defense of me, but you are dismissing her feelings, her reasons and her circumstances. We don't know what happened or why she left. Not really."

Danny stares at Steve again, shocked. "Oh, my God, this is unbelievable. I could tell that there was something different about you, in Montana, despite the circumstances, but I just chucked it up to Joe and moved on. It never occurred to me that… that… that the two of you were what, rekindling your relationship?" He looks disgusted.

"There was no rekindling, Danny, despite your jab, at the time, that I gracefully let slide. Don't think I didn't hear you, by the way. We kept separate bedrooms the entire time we were there and you're imagining things. Besides, do you see Catherine here?"

"No, but after what you told me… it might've crossed your mind to enter into another long-distance relationship with her, and not tell me about it," Danny says, in a provocative tone. "No wonder you've been withdrawn lately."

"I haven't seen or spoken to Catherine in months, Danny," Steve says bitterly, getting up and moving into the house. He climbs the stairs to his bedroom and shuts the door, effectively putting an end to the conversation.