AN: It isn't often that I'm thoroughly delighted with a chapter, but I'm extremely happy with how this one turned out. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and as always I appreciate your feedback!

"Eventful day already," Danny commented as he claimed the stool Meg had vacated only moments earlier. He watched Steve rub his forehead. "Are you going…"

The commander held up a hand, cutting off Danny's question. He didn't turn or stand, but said in a loud voice, "Now, Meg."

Danny shot him a questioning look, but seconds later, they heard rapid footsteps on the stairs. The detective chuckled. "Well played. How did you know?"

"Call it a hunch," Steve said. "So, you were saying…?"

Danny rested his elbows on the table. "Are you going to bust her butt for this?"

Steve let out a sigh. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Danny repeated, confused. "I would've thought you'd be ready to lay down the law, considering she apparently didn't do what she was supposed to in the first place."

"Are you saying you think I should?" Steve countered with a raised brow.

Danny shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I think. What do you think?"

Leaning back slightly, Steve ran a hand over his face. "I'd rather know why she didn't even try to sleep this morning. She could've said that she'd tried for hours and just couldn't fall asleep, but she didn't. It makes me think that she didn't want to sleep, which might have something to do with why she was tired in the first place this morning."

"Seems reasonable."

"I know there needs to be a consequence for her blatantly disobeying me and doing something that wasn't safe," continued Steve. "I suppose could restrict her from cooking for a week or two, but it makes her happy, and she's already in an unfamiliar place with people she barely knows."

"Well," Danny said, "for what it's worth, based on what has happened since we got here I think she's probably expecting a sore butt."

He was loathe to admit it, but his partner had a point. "There's a possibility you might not be wrong, Danno."

Danny snorted loudly. "Can't admit when I'm right, can you? It's okay, baby steps." He smirked at Steve's eye roll. "I'll give you two some time to figure things out. Do you still want to do takeout tonight or save it for another day?"

"No, it's fine. After Meg and I talk, she's taking a nap, whether she likes it or not. That kid needs the sleep. I think she'll enjoy having dinner together after that."

"Sounds good. I'll give you a call later."

Meg scooted across her bed until she was seated in the middle. Crossing her legs, she tucked her feet under her knees and clasped her hands in her lap. She wasn't sure what the commander's "talk" would entail, but she was fairly certain how it would end. Meg had hoped to gain a bit of insight from whatever Steve and Danny were saying, but apparently Steve had realized she was waiting just outside the kitchen.

She didn't have long to wait until footsteps outside the bedroom announced Steve's arrival. He stepped inside the room and took a seat on the small armchair in the corner, resting his elbows on his thighs.

"I'm sorry," murmured the teen.

The commander studied her calmly. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not going upstairs when you first told me to," she mumbled, wondering why his face wasn't nearly as stern as she'd expected, "and for baking when I was still tired."

"The eavesdropping is only going to land you in hot water," Steve said seriously. "And to make sure I'm being absolutely clear, when I say 'hot water', I mean I'll spank you the next time I catch you eavesdropping. Got it?"

Meg nodded. She had to admit, she appreciated that he was giving her fair warning. "Got it." Something else was plaguing her thoughts, and she took a small breath to steady her nerves. "What about today? Are you going to…?"

Steve gave the kid a few seconds to finish her thought, but when she didn't, he understood what had been left unsaid. "I haven't decided yet," was his honest reply. "I'm curious about a few things."

"Can I do anything to help you decide not to?" hedged Meg, unsure whether he'd be cross with her for asking.

"You can answer my questions honestly. For starters, when you admitted you hadn't slept any more after I left for work, you didn't bother to try to make excuses. I expected to hear something about how you'd tried all morning and just couldn't, but you didn't say anything of the sort. I was left with the impression that you didn't want to sleep and therefore you didn't even try. Was that impression correct?"

She didn't want to admit it, but if it saved her rear, she'd do it. "Yes."

He gave a small nod. "If you had tried to sleep, do you think you would've been able to?"

It felt as though she was about to incriminate herself, but she'd committed herself to honesty. "Yes."

If her answer surprised him, he didn't let it show. "You said a few minutes ago that you spent the morning resting, and while I don't think you were being completely dishonest about that, I suspect there are some details you left out. What did you do to rest, since you admitted you didn't want to sleep and you didn't try?"

"I curled up on the sofa and watched some TV."

"How did you keep yourself from falling asleep?"

Meg frowned. He wasn't going to like her answer to that question at all. "Steve…"

His response was to lean forward and level her with a firm stare. "If you'd rather I discipline you now and we talk afterwards, that can certainly be arranged."

She shook her head emphatically. "No… I…" Meg exhaled in anxious frustration. "I had some coffee." Steve arched an eyebrow, his eyes nearly boring holes into her own eyes, until she let out a half whine. "Sorry…"

He ignored the whine. "All right. To recap, you spent the morning watching TV and drinking coffee."

"Yes, sir."

"I think you're clever enough to understand that watching TV and drinking coffee doesn't count as resting as far as I'm concerned, particularly when you're already tired. In the future, if I tell you to rest, I mean I want you lying down with your eyes closed."

Meg frowned but she nodded in understanding. "Yes, sir."

"So now that we've established that you didn't want to sleep, I'd like to know why."

Her top teeth unconsciously nibbled on her lower lip. "I don't want to answer that question."

"I can see that," Steve said calmly, "but if you're refusing to sleep, I need to know why, because not getting enough sleep is going to make you sick."

She shook her head. "No. I'm not talking about it."

Meg had half expected the commander to make good on his threat to jump straight to the consequences, but he didn't move from his chair. "I have a suspicion," he told her. "Would you like to hear it?"

Meg shrugged her shoulders.

"I think you're having still having nightmares," Steve continued conversationally. "You must be waking more quietly, because I haven't heard you in the middle of the night, but when you try to go back to sleep you're continuing to have the nightmares. And so at least last night, after you woke from the nightmare, you decided not to go back asleep so you wouldn't have to have another one. Am I on the right track?"

Another shrug, as she didn't want to outright admit he was right.

"The thing I'm confused about is why you didn't come get me when you woke from the first nightmare."

She lowered her gaze to her lap, shrugging her shoulders once more as if to say she didn't know why she hadn't woken him either.

"That's the first time you've been blatantly dishonest with me during this conversation," Steve pointed out. "Look at me, Meg." He waited for her to comply. "Your first night here, I told you to wake me if you needed anything. Do you remember that?" Meg gave a small nod. "Those weren't empty words, Meg. Having a nightmare is a more than acceptable reason to wake me up."

"I don't want to become a burden," she whispered.

Steve frowned and stood in one fluid movement, taking a seat directly in front of Meg on the bed. "Did I ever give you the impression that I found your nightmares a burden?"

She'd expected anger, but instead Meg found genuine concern in his words and expression. "No…" she hesitantly admitted. "You have a dangerous job, though, and it would be really selfish of me to interrupt your sleep and make your job harder just because I had a bad dream."

"No," Steve said in a firm tone, using one hand to tilt up her chin as her gaze had dropped once more. "That isn't your job to worry about whether or not I'm getting enough sleep. It's my job to make sure that you feel safe and cared for, and that includes helping you feel better after a nightmare."

Meg wanted to believe him, but who took in a random kid off the street and treated them like their own child? She knew arguing with him wouldn't do any good though, so she gave a small shrug of her shoulders.

It was Steve's turn to let out a soft sigh. "Stay here," he said, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder. "I'll be back in just a minute."

The teen watched Steve slip off of the bed and stride out of the room. He didn't close the door behind him, and Meg desperately wondered where he was going and what he was thinking. Was he going to spank her for the day's events? If so, why had he walked out of the room?

She didn't have to wait long, though. Less than two minutes later, Steve returned, a book in his hand. It only served to further Meg's confusion.

"Stand up," he told her.

Meg felt completely clueless, but she slowly complied. Once she'd taken a step away from the bed, Steve leaned over and pulled down the comforter and top sheet.

"Climb in."

At once she understood what he wanted from her, and she felt her body go rigid. "No."

Setting the book on the arm of the chair, Steve folded his arms over his chest and looked expectantly at Meg. "You desperately need more sleep, Meg. I'll be right there in that chair," he said as he pointed behind him, "as you sleep. If you have a bad dream, I'll wake you up. If you want to talk about the dreams you've been having first, I'm happy to listen. It might actually help you not have those dreams so much in the future. If you want to fight me on this, that's also fine, but in that case you'll be falling asleep with a sore butt. You need to understand that getting some sleep this afternoon is not negotiable. So, how do you want this to go?"

She wanted to fight him, but she wasn't going to voluntarily take a spanking, especially when he'd make it clear that she wasn't going to win in the end. Giving him as much of a displeased glare as she dared with him so close, Meg slipped under the covers and curled up on her side. "There," she said in a sassy tone. "Happy?"

In any other situation he probably would've pulled the covers back to deliver a few well-placed swats, but Steve knew this sudden attitude was a result of Meg's lack of sleep and perhaps even a perceived lack of control over the situation, so he pretended he hadn't heard the snarky remarks. "Close your eyes," he said in a gentle tone, brushing the hair away from her face with his fingers.

A small involuntary sigh slipped through her lips and he watched her eyelids flutter. "No," she murmured with far less conviction.

Ignoring that 'no' as well, Steve continued to comb his fingers through her hair, relieved to see that it was having such an immediate effect on the teen. In less than 30 seconds, Meg's eyes fluttered closed. Steve continued his soothing movements for another couple of minutes, wanting to ensure that she was completely asleep before moving. Once convinced, he carefully stood and moved over to the armchair, settling in to read his book. Hopefully Meg would sleep for at least a few hours.

When Meg's eyes slowly fluttered open again, she spied Steve sitting on the armchair, just as he'd promised, engrossed in whatever book he'd chosen. It occurred to her that she hadn't had a single nightmare during that time. How odd! She wondered what the difference was, though she certainly felt less tense and cranky than she had before.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, Steve glanced up from his book, and the gentle smile he offered her made her feel warm inside. "Hey there, sleepyhead. Feel better?"

She gave him a small, sleepy smile. "What time is it?" she asked through a yawn.

"Just after five," he told her, closing the book and setting it on the arm of the chair. "How did you sleep? I didn't see you tossing and turning at all."

"No nightmares," admitted Meg. "I don't know why."

Steve had a hunch, but he wanted to test it out first before he shared it with her. "I'm glad you slept well. You certainly look more rested."

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Meg pushed herself up so she was seated and pulled her legs toward her until they were crossed. "Am… am I still in trouble?"

"No," he told her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. "However, I'm adding a condition to your kitchen privileges."

Meg didn't like where this was going. "You said you weren't planning on banning me from cooking or baking when you aren't home," she reminded him in a quiet voice.

"I'm not," Steve said, "not completely, anyway. From now on, you're still allowed to get creative in the kitchen when you're home alone so long as you aren't tired. If I think you look tired before I leave for work, though, anything more than a paring knife or that requires more than the microwave will be off limits while I'm out."

She adopted a frown. "So whether or not I get to cook depends on how you think I feel? That sucks."

Steve arched a brow. "You know how to avoid that dilemma in the first place, don't you?"

A heavy sigh escaped her lips. "Wake you up if I have a nightmare."

He chuckled at the dramatic response. "I knew you were a smart kid. So, Danny will be calling sometime soon. Have you given any thought to what you want for dinner?"

"How on Earth did you get Steve to agree to Chinese?" Danny wanted to know as he walked through the front door, a takeout bag in each hand.

Meg could hardly wait for Danny to set the bags on the kitchen table before reaching for one and yanking it open to pull an assortment of cartons and Styrofoam and plastic containers from its depths. "He promised I could pick just about anything I wanted. I told him that after today, the only thing I wanted was Chinese. My Singapore Mei Fun isn't in here…"

"It must be in this bag then," Danny reasoned, opening the second bag with far less force. "You would think you haven't eaten in days."

"I didn't have lunch," Meg informed him, reaching for the Styrofoam container in his hand, recognizing a noodle hanging out from one side. "I'm hungry."

Danny turned to Steve, who had just entered the kitchen. "You didn't feed this child lunch? What is wrong with you, Steven?"

Steven turned his attention at once to Meg. "This child didn't say anything about not having eaten lunch, or I would've made sure she ate something before she napped."

Meg scrunched up her face. "Can you not use the word 'nap' please? It makes me sound like I'm four. Besides, I was preoccupied with other things earlier. I didn't even think about whether I was hungry."

"Do you want a plate?" Danny asked, reaching for one of the cabinet doors.

"No thank you," Meg replied at once. "No reason to dirty a plate. None of this will last long enough to be leftovers. "Can I please have an egg roll, though?"

The detective handed an individually wrapped egg roll to the teen, who balanced it on top of her food container. "Thanks, Detective Williams."

"So, I heard Steve has you calling him by his first name."

She froze, biting her lip a moment before she caught herself. "He insisted. He said that calling him 'commander' was too formal."

Danny hid a smirk. McGarrett clearly wasn't ready to admit how much the kid had grown on him. "In this rare instance, I agree with him. In fact, I'd be happy for you to call me Danny, or even Uncle Danny, if you're comfortable with it."

Mustering a face of pure innocence, Meg asked, "Can I call you Danno?"

Steve snickered as Danny shook his head. "You've been spending far too much time around McGarrett."

An entire order of Mei Fun, half of a small order of chicken curry, an egg roll, two cookies, and a few hours later, Meg was stretched out on the floor, her chin resting on her folded arms as she watched the TV. She really wasn't paying much attention to the show; her energy was directed at keeping her eyes open. Meg couldn't believe she felt so sleepy, especially after having taken such a long nap, but she wasn't about to admit to either of the men behind her that she was tired. A recent glance at the clock had indicated her bedtime was fast approaching, but if Steve didn't say anything about it, she was quite content to pretend she hadn't noticed herself.

"Hey kiddo, it's time to start heading upstairs."

Meg sighed softly, but she didn't argue as she slowly pushed herself up off the floor. Her bed would be more comfortable anyway. "Good night, Uncle Danny," she murmured, trying out the new title. She was surprised to find out that she liked it. It felt like being with family, even if she had no idea where her mom was. There was a comfort to it that she hadn't felt since leaving New York.

Rising to his feet, Danny took a step forward and pulled Meg into a gentle hug. "Good night, kid. Sweet dreams."

"Thank you," Meg said, pulling back and offering him a smile.

"I'll be up in a couple of minutes, Meg," Steve said from his spot on the sofa.

Nodding, Meg turned and headed up to her room. Her bedtime routine didn't take too long when she wasn't trying to squeeze in a shower – face washed, teeth and hair brushed, and pajamas donned, and Meg was slipping into her bed.

Steve entered the room shortly after, a couple of first aid supplies in his arms.

"I want to check your arm before you go to sleep," he told her.

Sitting up, Meg nodded and allowed Steve to hold her arm. She watched as he carefully unwrapped the outer bandage before gently peeling off the gauze pad. The burn was tender, and Meg couldn't hide a wince, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been earlier.

"How much does it hurt?" he asked as he examined the pink skin.

"Not much, just a bit when there's pressure."

"I'll try to be quick and gentle, but I want to put some more aloe on there."

Meg remained silent as he worked, only wincing twice as he applied a fresh layer of aloe and covered the area with a clean gauze pad. Once her arm was properly wrapped, Steve gently set it down.

"Do you need any Tylenol?" Meg shook her head silently. "All right, get comfortable."

The teen curled up on her side, much like she had earlier in the afternoon. She might've preferred to stretch out on her stomach, but with her burned arm, she didn't want to risk putting extra pressure on it. She watched as Steve pulled up the sheet and comforter around her shoulders and perched on the edge of the bed next to her hip.

"I'm going to stay until you fall asleep," he told her. "I'll check on you again once or twice before I go to bed, but if you have a nightmare for whatever reason, I want you to come wake me. Understood?"

Meg blushed. On one hand, she felt a little embarrassed that he felt obligated to sit with her like a child. On the other hand, she desperately yearned for the company. "Understood. You don't have to stay though…"

"I want to," he assured her. "You just focus on happy, relaxing thoughts."

Just as he had before, Steve reached out and began carding his fingers through Meg's hair. As tired as she was, she didn't stand a chance, and before she knew it she was out like a light.