Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Hawaii Five-0.
You Owe Me
Part 7
By
N. J. Borba
He stepped over the threshold and stopped as soon as he spotted her on the floor.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the back windows. It funneled through the archway to create a wide swatch of golden light in the living room. Steve found Catherine laying directly in the sunlight's path. He leaned against the open front door frame and crossed his arms while he watched her. Catherine's head and arms made contact with the pad on the floor but her legs were stretched backwards over her head, toes touching the wood floor. Her eyes were closed and he couldn't be sure if she was even breathing.
"What're you doing down there?" he finally asked.
She opened her eyes and turned her head a little to face him, still maintaining her position. "I didn't even hear you come in," Catherine's tone was light and airy, not startled at all.
"I'm guessing because you were in some Zen-like yoga trance," Steve almost laughed but saw the focus in her eyes. "You really get in to this stuff, don't you?"
"It's relaxing," Catherine replied as her eyes closed again.
Steve couldn't stop his worried mind from thinking about who else could've walked in on her in such a tranquil state. And she might not have even heard them. He hoped Trooper would've barked to alert her, though at the moment the dog was curled up in a sunny spot by the back door, napping blissfully. The latest set of photographs had arrived via mail to Five-0 headquarters a week ago. So far there'd been one set a week for over a month. And he hadn't told her about any of them yet.
His thoughts drifted to the day of her retirement party.
"Steve?" Catherine called out.
"We should tell her," Danny said to his partner as he stood in the living room, still holding the pictures, still feeling helpless in regard to his friends Steve and Catherine - one of them clearly being stalked, and the other looking like he wanted to rip someone's head off.
"Not now," Steve snatched the pictures out of his friend's hand, stuffed them in the envelope and tucked them in the back waistband of his jeans. He pulled his t-shirt down to cover the envelope just as Catherine entered the room. "Hey," he stepped forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Danny and I were just on our way outside," Steve assured her.
"Okay," Catherine's tone was somewhat hesitant as she eyed the two men suspiciously. "You're good with Billy being here, aren't you?"
He nodded. "It's fine."
She studied them both again for a moment. "I'll go grab the salad for you. Can't be completely lazy today."
They waited, standing at attention, until she'd disappeared inside the kitchen. "Danny, go tend the steaks," Steve instructed. "You have my permission."
"And what are you planning to do with those pictures?" Danny questioned, concerned about his friend's dangerous mood.
"Hide them for now," Steve replied with conviction.
With a shake of his head Danny edged toward the back door. "Just be sure you know what you're doing. She needs to know eventually," he warned.
Steve nodded. "You're right, just not today, Danny. I don't want to ruin this party for her."
His not today motivation had seemed harmless enough, but Steve realized it had been nearly four weeks and he still hadn't bothered to tell Catherine about the pictures of her on the beach. Or the newer ones he'd received; her walking Trooper downtown on a lunch break. Or her and Billy at a fundraiser where they were working security detail for a diplomat. Or even the most recent ones showing her arriving outside of Five-0 headquarters.
"You okay?" Catherine asked.
He blinked, realizing she was now standing on her yoga mat. "Fine."
"Come here," she held her left hand out, beckoning him to join her on the mat. Catherine smiled when he followed her orders, probably thinking he was going to be rewarded with a kiss. Instead she positioned him about a foot in front of her, her hands on his tense biceps. "You need to relax."
Steve allowed his hands to brush against her waist. He ogled her navy shorts and turquoise tank top and smiled. "I like this plan."
"Yoga," she pushed his hands off her waist and lifted her right leg. "I was talking about yoga," Catherine pressed her right foot against the inside of her left thigh and then raised both arms above her head. "It can help you relax."
"What is that, some sort of flamingo pose?" Steve joked.
"Tree pose," Catherine replied in a calm voice. "You should try it," she challenged.
When her eyes closed again, Steve was tempted to just flee the room. Instead he decided to make an effort at doing something out of his comfort zone. "This isn't so hard," Steve said proudly as he stood there mirroring her pose, hands above his head and balancing on one leg.
Catherine reopened her eyes and smiled. His raised leg was much more flexible than she would've guessed. "I'm impressed," she smiled, more touched than anything that he'd actually given it a go. "You're pretty good at this," she was further mesmerized as he managed to hold the pose for a long period of time, the two of them looking in to one another's eyes.
"I'm good at everything I do," he replied with a grin.
"Cocky, too," Catherine chuckled.
"I love when you talk dirty," he leaned forward for a kiss but lost his balance.
Steve dropped his leg in an attempt to regain solid footing, but he still stumbled forward causing her to topple over as well. He couldn't stop their inevitable fall to the floor, but his hands went out to brace himself. Catherine ended up taking the brunt of it as he collapsed against her, but Steve managed to slip one hand beneath her head before it could connect with the hard floor. "That's twice you've tripped me in the last month," she observed, starring up at him, a bit dazed.
Trooper jumped up from her sunny napping spot by the back door and trotted in to the living room to check out the source of the noise. Steve propped himself up a little, hovering above her, chest to chest. "Pretty sure I know the name of this position," he said before finally completing his kiss.
She smiled, yielding to the softness of his lips. "This position has it's relaxing benefits, too," Catherine agreed.
"Would it be weird if I asked for a rain check on this?" he asked, halting the obvious direction they were headed. Steve rolled to his side and sat up. "I've been out in the garage all morning and I only came in because there's a favor I wanted to ask you," he confessed.
"I'm pretty sure you still owe me for about half a dozen past favors," she pointed out, sitting up and drawing her knees close to her chest.
He winced, knowing she was right. "So that's a no?"
"No," she smiled as he stood and took her by the hand to help her up. "That's a yes," Catherine agreed.
"Promise I'll make it up to you," Steve kissed her palm then led her across the front yard to the garage.
Trooper trailed behind them and was content to sniff around and explore the garage.
Catherine found herself beside the driver's door of John McGarrett's old, black Mercury, which was currently jacked up off the concrete garage floor. She smiled when Steve opened the door and gave her a hand up. "I just need you to sit here for a few minutes and help me bleed the brakes," he finally explained the favor. "When I give the go ahead you just have to pump the brakes several times and then hold down the pedal. Easy, right?"
"Sounds like it," she nodded as he closed the door for her. Catherine sat in the spacious front seat, watching as Steve grabbed a wrench and small work light. He laid down on the creeper bench and rolled beneath the car.
"This is nice, isn't it?" he called from under the Mercury. "The two of us living together, having more time to spend together."
"Yeah, it's great," there was more than a little sarcasm laced in her words. "I just never realized you asked me to live with you so you could have a personal mechanic's assistant," Catherine teased.
"I'll have you know that I don't let just anyone touch this car," Steve's voice was somewhat muffled from below. "Allowing you in the driver's seat there, that's a rare privilege," he noted. "Okay, go ahead and pump the brake for me, and…"
"Hold it down," she echoed. "I've got this," Catherine performed the task for him. Several seconds after she'd pumped and held her foot down, the brake pedal slowly moved closer to the floor of the car on its own. "Is it supposed to do that?" she called down.
"Yep, perfect," he replied. "Now I just need a repeat performance on the other side."
She completed the task when he gave the sign and Steve reappeared from beneath the vehicle. He tapped at the window. Catherine rolled down the window and grinned when he leaned against the car and kissed her. "That it?" she asked.
"Done," Steve confirmed. "Thank you." He watched her place both hands on the steering wheel. "You look good in my dad's car."
"Pretty sure I know why you like this thing, it's a tank," Catherine remarked. "Only slightly classier."
"Not everyone likes tiny cars," he replied. Steve ran a hand affectionately along the shiny black paint of the front left fender. "You get hit in this baby and you'd barely feel it."
Catherine knew he was teasing her about the small blue corvette she drove, which he avoided when at all possible due to his height. But she didn't take offense. "No kidding, you could probably ride out the end of the world in this sucker, or a zombie attack at the very least," she joked. She swiveled her gaze to the back seat and her eyes went wide. "Jeez, I think I know why so many kids were conceived in old cars like this. That back seat is huge," Catherine noticed.
His brow rose suggestively when her eyes returned to him. "Care to join me?" Steve nodded toward the back seat.
The two of them crawled in the back and sat side-by-side. "I could take a nice nap back here," Catherine declared.
"A nap, huh?" Steve draped one arm across her shoulder. "That all you want to do back here? Or would you like to cash in on that rain check?"
She sighed, "Does it ever bother you?"
"Does what bother me?" Steve's playful mood was overshadowed by her odd reaction to his suggestion.
"The fact that we don't talk," Catherine's tone turned contemplative.
He retracted his arm and shifted to face her. "Cath, what are you going on about? We talk all the time. We're talking right now. See, when my lips move that means sound is coming out, words and sentences. That's talking," Steve nodded for emphasis.
"You're a butthead," she folded her arms across her chest, not amused. "What I meant is that it seems like everything we do eventually leads to sex. We manage one yoga pose together and it leads to thoughts of sex. We actually eat a meal together and it leads to sex. We watch a movie on the sofa together and it leads to… you get the idea."
Steve nodded. "Yes, but I'm not exactly seeing why that's a bad thing?" he questioned. "What's got you so troubled about having sex all of a sudden? Danny mentioned the whole conversation topic with you, right? Is it about the book he bought for us?"
"I just feel like we don't talk enough…" she stopped short. "What book?"
"Not important," Steve dismissed. "What is there to talk about that's so important?" he questioned. "Work is good for me, and for you. You're working with Billy, he seems to be behaving himself. He's not a murderer, which makes me feel better about you working with him."
"Ugh," she sighed, slouched against the seat. "Something other than work or Billy," Catherine groaned as she gazed up at the car's headliner.
"Okay, what then?" he tried to set things right. "Let's have a talk, a grown-up discussion about anything you want. Pick a topic," Steve could already see the wheels turning in her head and he cringed to realize he'd said any topic. "Okay, just not Opera, please. I know it's one of the book topics, but I don't understand it. And I know I've never actually tried to understand it, but I just don't get its appeal."
Catherine stared at him for a long time before she dared to say anything. "Steve, why would I ever want to talk to you about Opera?"
"You mentioned it the other day," he recalled. "I was on my way out the door and admittedly not listening very closely, but you were talking about your mom calling and something about General Hospital," Steve tried to jog her memory.
She chuckled and sat up straighter. "That's a Soap Opera," Catherine clarified. "My mom and I used to watch it together after school when I was a kid. It was a thing we had, just about anywhere we were stationed we could watch that show and feel like everything was normal," she explained. "And I only mentioned it the other day because of my mom finally getting her CNA like she's been wanting to do for a while now."
"That's right," he nodded. "Certified Nursing Assistant."
Catherine regarded him for a moment until she realized he wasn't going to say anything else. "That's really all you have to contribute?"
He shrugged, "I'm glad you weren't talking about the singing type of Opera like I thought," Steve offered.
"I give up," she sighed, her head lolling against the back of the seat again.
"Hey," Steve tried to regain her attention. "Seriously, Cath, you know I'm not very good at this. I'm more a physical guy, that's how I convey my emotions. Talking about our feelings was not exactly something we did well in the McGarrett family. I give you my mother as a prime example."
"Since we're being honest, it's not something my family did very well either," she realized again how alike they were. "But I know I've seen glimpses of you that are sensitive and thoughtful," Catherine smiled, cherishing those times. "I guess I figured living together might bring that out of you even more. We're not just coming and going like we used to. We need to actually fill more time than it takes to have sex."
Steve was a little wounded by that comment. "But you and I both know I can take my time when it comes to sex," he leaned forward and kissed her quickly before she could protest.
She savored the slightly impatient tug of his lips against hers, but pushed a finger against his chest and tried not to smile. "See," Catherine did her best to thwart his behavior. "You always do that, you always go to your strengths. But some day we're going to be old and gray-haired and sex is just going to be a memory for us."
"I don't know who you're growing old and gray with, Cath, but sex is always going to be on my priority list," Steve stated without a doubt. "Even with my cute little old lady," he winked, liking the way she'd implied the two of them would be growing old together. But he could see she was not entirely swayed by his power of persuasion. "Sorry," he sat back. "So… your mom got her CNA, and I was distracted when you tried to tell me about that the other day. I didn't get the chance to tell you how great that news is. I'm proud of Elizabeth, I know she's been thinking about taking that step for a while now. I'm glad she went for it."
"So am I," Catherine was again reminded that he could be a sentimental guy. "It was only about a six week program, but apparently she did really well. She's even thinking about getting a job at the nursing home a few blocks from her and Ted's place."
"I'm sure she'd be a great fit there," Steve didn't know her mother well, but enough to know she'd raised a very compassionate daughter. "And she can finally stop being so dependent on Ted the step-dad."
"I didn't say that," she grew defensive.
"But it's okay if you were thinking it," Steve allowed. "I know lots of kids don't like their step-parents," he added. "It's natural."
Her lips pressed together tightly for a moment. "I'm not a kid, Steve. And why do you think I don't like Ted? He's a good guy," Catherine went on. "He's a shoes salesman," her nose crinkled a little at the mention. "What's not to like about that? It's perfectly good, honest work. He's owned his own shoe shop for twenty years. I think that's great. People always need shoes. There's nothing wrong with Ted," she rambled on.
"Who you trying to convince, me or yourself?" Steve had easily picked up on her dislike of the man the first time she'd ever mentioned him. "Catherine, you roll your eyes every time you talk about the guy," he pointed out.
Catherine unconsciously rolled her eyes at his remark, realizing her mistake too late. "Okay, maybe… but not every time I talk about Ted," she insisted.
"You just did it again," he told her.
"Fine. Ted is rather dull," she confessed. "There, I said it. Are you happy?"
He wasn't happy, but proud of her for admitting it. "Not surprising really. How can you compare a Navy Rear Admiral to a shoes salesman? Those are some pretty big shoes to fill, all pun intended," he watched her try to keep a smile in check. "Come on, this is a fun conversation we're having right here. Admit it."
"I will not make fun of Ted just for conversation sake," Catherine held out.
"You're a better person than me, Cath," he kissed her cheek and let his arm resume course across her shoulder. "So, what are we doing for Thanksgiving? I was thinking you and me on the beach, a turkey sandwich picnic and maybe some surfing. Later we can give thanks for each other," Steve suggested. "And yes," he nodded. "I do realize that was me leading back to sex. But am I really supposed to walk in on you with your butt and legs over your head and not be turned on?"
She could only smile as his fingers gently caressed the back of her neck. Catherine relaxed against him. "I'm sorry if I made you think that sex with you was in any way not a good thing. That was not my intention, because it is always a good thing, trust me. Very… very good," she emphasized. "But about Thanksgiving, I thought maybe we could invite some people over," Catherine broached the subject casually.
"What people?" he was already skeptical.
"Holidays are for gathering with family and friends," Catherine remarked. "And when we had breakfast with Danny last Sunday he mentioned that he would have Grace for Thanksgiving. And if Chin isn't doing anything…" she shrugged.
"Danny, Grace, Chin… and?" Steve could tell she was working up to something else.
Catherine nervously sucked in her bottom lip. "I thought we could invite your sister, and your mom," she mentioned in a much softer voice. By the way his body tensed at the mention of his mother, Catherine knew he'd heard her loud and clear. "Have you talked to Doris recently?"
"Not since she escorted Adam and Kono off the island," his tone was clipped and filled with barely masked disappointment. "Mary let me know mom has been staying with her in California. My sister actually tells me stuff, at least more so than my mother," Steve let out a shallow breath. "It's fine, though. The two of them need to spend some time together. Mother-daughter bonding and all of that, maybe watch some soap operas," he quipped. "I just know my mother's doing it to avoid me and that pisses me off," he told her the truth. "So I'm thinking Thanksgiving with her this year isn't a good idea."
"Okay…" Catherine could tell he was serious about not seeing his mother, but she wasn't one to give in so easily. "But the whole point of Thanksgiving is to be thankful and to be with the people you care about most. And even though she's hurt you a great deal, I know you still love her. She's your mother, Steve."
He sighed. "What about your parents? You invited them?" Steve knew he was changing the subject a bit, but didn't care.
"I did," Catherine nodded, sensing his unease with the previous conversation. "Mom is spending Thanksgiving through New Year's with Ted and his kids in Vermont. Apparently they arranged it all last year, rented a ski cabin and everything. She did promise to come out here next year, maybe for Christmas," Catherine shrugged it off. "And my dad is running training exercises in Kuwait through March."
"Wow, is he ever planning to retire?" Steve wondered.
"I seriously doubt it," she remarked with a smile.
Steve could see she was doing a decent job of pretending it was okay that her parents wouldn't be around for the holidays, but he knew her better than that. "Fine," he relented on her suggestion. "We'll invite Mary and my mom to Thanksgiving. But if they don't show I hope you won't be disappointed to just spend the day with me."
"Never," she assured him. "You'll call them?" Catherine decided not to allow him to wallow.
"Sure," he nodded.
Her brows arched skeptically. "Promise?"
"Yes, I promise," Steve declared. "I'm sorry your parents won't be here," he held her tightly. "Next year we'll take your mother up on her offer and have a huge Thanksgiving feast here. And who knows, maybe your dad will be free. Sound good?"
"Neither of them would come for Thanksgiving, not even separately, but it's a nice thought," she smiled, touched that he was thinking that far in to the future. Catherine liked the idea of holiday celebrations with him, even if it was just the two of them. "Is it silly for me to miss spending holidays with both my parents together?" Catherine sighed. "I guess that's what happens when people get married for the wrong reason, they eventually divorce and the kids end up with separate holidays," she allowed herself to indulge in a moment of self-pity.
"I'm sorry you can't have them both here at the same time," Steve did his best to sympathize.
She shrugged, feeling like a foolish kid. "I always knew they hated each other. They only got married because of me."
He wasn't used to such a defeatist attitude from her. Since they'd met she'd never really lamented her parent's divorce. It had happened several years before he ever knew her so Steve figured it had been something she'd dealt with a while back. "I'm sure that's not true, Catherine."
"It is true," she maintained. "The two of them in the same room together was almost always a disaster, Steve. They weren't happy until they divorced," Catherine sighed. "When I was thirteen I helped my mom pack a bunch of office files for our move from Japan to Florida. I accidently saw their marriage license. It clearly states that they got married only six months before I was born," Catherine revealed.
"Maybe you showed up early?" he tried to think of a good reason, though the odds seemed against his theory. She seemed pretty certain.
Her head shook. "At eight pounds fourteen ounces? Doubtful," she sighed.
"And you've only gained ten pounds since birth," Steve teased.
Catherine smiled a little but regained her solemn tone. "They argued all the time. And after Ben…"
Steve felt a chill wash over him as he looked her in the eye, seeing the way her whole body deflated. There was something in the way she'd spoken the name that troubled him. "Who's Ben?" he bravely asked. "Did your mother have an affair?"
"No," Catherine whispered.
The small sound of her voice nearly broke his heart. Steve held her hand, letting her know he was there for her no matter what. "You don't have to tell me, Cath," he offered.
Tears pricked her eyes as she spoke the next few words, "Ben was my baby brother," Catherine revealed.
"Oh," it was about the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. Steve had only ever known her to be an only child, same as he'd told Danny.
"Maybe they figured having another baby could fix things," she shrugged. "Remember the Christmas when I got my puppy, Cowboy?" Catherine watched Steve nod, keeping quiet as she continued to talk. "The dog was sort of a bribe, I think. They figured after six years of being an only child I'd be upset to have a sibling. They were right. I was almost seven when he was born and I didn't really want anything to do with him. It had always just been me and my parents."
He tenderly squeezed her hand. "Something changed, though?" Steve guessed.
"I couldn't help love him," Catherine confirmed. "He was so sweet, and almost always happy."
The unshed tears in her eyes, coupled with the fact that she'd never mentioned a brother before left Steve fearing the worst. "Catherine, what happened to Ben?"
"It was a week before Thanksgiving… he was only six months old… just didn't wake up," a tear finally rolled down her cheek but she didn't bother to wipe it away. "I overheard my parents say something about a heart defect that went undetected," she breathed out. "After he died the house was so quiet. My parents didn't argue for months. But then everything went back to the way it'd been before. My dad took a long-term assignment overseas. My mom drove me to ice skating lessons, softball practice, made cookies for bake sales…"
She took a breath, "They never talked about Ben and I followed their lead. They just returned to arguing about money, bills and my dad being away all the time. When I graduated high school early, at age seventeen, I asked them to sign off on my Navy entrance. They did it without question. And a week after I left for basic training they filed for divorce," she remembered. "One week. So clearly they only stayed together for me."
Steve gently brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumb. "I'm so sorry about your brother, Catherine," the words sounded hollow but they were all he had. "I had no idea you'd been through something like that," Steve was still trying to process it, not able to imagine life without his sister. "As much as I tormented Mary sometimes, I never…" he sucked in a breath and pulled Catherine closer.
"I never told anyone about Ben until just now," she whispered, her head rested against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry your parents closed themselves off, but the way I see it, they cared enough to stick around for you," he offered.
That comment left her feeling rather thoughtless. "I wasn't even thinking about what Doris did, leaving you," Catherine sighed. "You're right. I had my parents around and I'm thankful of that. I just think sometimes you shouldn't stay together for your kid's sake. Kids know when things aren't right and what lesson does that teach them?"
They sat there for a long time. Silence permeating the big back seat of his father's old Mercury.
"I don't ever see myself getting married," Catherine finally let the words fall. "It only seems to complicate things."
Her words caused his thoughts to spin, recalling his brief ring search and the failed marriage proposal in her kitchen. "I get that your parent's marriage example was obvious not a healthy one," he realized. "At least I know my parents loved each other. Before my mom left we were a happy family. Which is why it hurt so much to lose her," he confessed.
"I'm sure between the two of us we could write a book," she sympathized.
She was right, of course. But for some reason he didn't want to take that easy road of blame. "We don't have to be our parents, Catherine. Or make their mistakes," Steve said. "Maybe we could even learn from them."
"Are you being serious right now?" Catherine wondered.
He recalled something Danny had said to him several weeks ago. "I know I'm happier with you than I am alone," Steve revealed to her. "You make me want to be better, Cath. You make me want more than I thought I'd ever want. I'd like to prove that I don't have to keep living in my parent's shadow. Don't you want to prove that, too?"
"Maybe," she replied, somewhat shocked by the answer.
"Maybe?" Steve nodded, the hint of a smile on his face. "I guess that's better than a no."
"I'm just not sure marriage will ever be right for me," Catherine let him know.
He was disappointed by that conclusion, but not enough to let it go. She was right about how he usually shied away from serious conversations, but Catherine had changed all that. The more he knew her the more he wanted to know about her. And there were obviously still things he knew little or nothing about. "Pretty sure I'm meant to be the one running away from marriage talk. I figured this is what you wanted. When you were getting ready to leave the Navy you mention thinking about the future."
"Yes, and you were the one thing I saw in that future, even very far in to it," she conveyed. "Steve, I know that whether I'm working a case with Billy or maybe venturing out on my own someday with a new job, I will always be thinking about coming home to you," she insisted. "And I don't need marriage vows for that."
"Then I guess that's what we focus on for now," he found he was okay with that as long as they were together.
Catherine finally cracked a small smile, "I knew you could show me that thoughtful side again," she tried to sniff down another tear, but was unsuccessful.
"What's with all the tears today?" Steve kissed the side of her head as it remained resting against his shoulder. He leaned in further and allowed his nose to gently caress her neck. "At the risk of this leading to sex, do you want to make out in the back of my dad's car?" he whispered, hoping to brighten her spirits.
Her laughter filled the small space. "Always fall back on your strengths," Catherine actually approved this time, thankful for the way he could make her laugh and smile, forget about the difficult things. "For the record, I don't like the singing type of Opera either."
Steve grinned. "Good to know," he replied before allowing his lips and the rest of his body to show Catherine just how much he desired her.
000
"You think it's possible there are women who actually don't want to get married?" Steve asked as he entered Danny's office the following morning.
"Sure," Danny answered automatically, not even looking up from the laptop on his desk. It took a few seconds for his partner's words to sink in. "Whoa, back up a second," Danny pushed away from his desk and stood. "Did you ask Catherine to marry you? Did she turn you down?"
"No," Steve was immediately defensive. "I didn't ask," he finally admitted. "But the topic came up and she seems to be against marriage."
"Seriously? She pays for stuff and doesn't want to get married. Could she be more perfect?" Danny teased.
Steve sighed. "Just because you have issues with marriage," he exited the office and walked toward the surface table.
"I won't deny that," Danny remarked as he followed his partner. "At least for me it turned out badly," he relented a little. "Look, I know I've been all wishy-washy on the marriage topic lately, but I gave you that book, right? And I've told you before that I'm in your corner on this if it's what you really want. What you and Catherine have is the real deal. I believe that."
That got a small smile from Steve. He remembered his buddy Freddie saying almost exactly the same thing to him just before they'd dropped in to North Korea. "Thank you, Danny," his words were sincere this time. "Also, Catherine wanted me to invite you and Grace over for Thanksgiving."
"Very nice, we accept," Danny didn't hesitate. "I have Grace until about six that night. Plenty time for turkey and pie."
Steve nodded, "And hopefully my mother won't have ruined the whole day by the time we cut in to the pie."
Danny tried to gauge the look on his friend's face. "Doris is coming for Thanksgiving?"
"Rethinking your acceptance now, aren't you?" Steve sighed, not blaming the man for being uncertain of a family meal with his mother. "Catherine's parents can't make it so she wants to invite mom and Mary."
"And you're cool with that?" Danny wondered.
"I don't know," another sigh escaped Steve. "I called Mary and invited them, but…" he shrugged, not sure what he'd do with a normal family. "I know we all managed to have Christmas last year without too much trouble. But that was before I knew some of the stuff I know now about my mother. I'm just so sick of the lies, Danny," the words were barely out when Steve glanced over at his friend again. "Do not look at me like that," he warned.
"Oh, so you are planning to tell Catherine about the pictures and the person stalking her?"
"I've tried, but…"
With his hands held up, Danny shook off any excuse that might be forthcoming from his friend. "Unless the next words out of your mouth are about telling Catherine the truth, you're getting the look," he glared, though not-so-menacingly. More disapproving than anything. "Are the pictures still hidden in your sock drawer?"
"They are," Steve replied, fiddling with the computer without really trying to research anything. "It's rare that either one of us wears socks so it seemed the safest place."
"Pot, kettle," Danny mumbled.
Steve's eyes narrowed, not sure if he'd heard right. "Excuse me?"
"I get that you're freaked out about this picture thing. I don't blame you for being worried. I'm worried, too. But do you remember Catherine being upset with you last month over the much smaller issue of you having HPD watch her house without telling her? And then there's the matter of how pissed off at Catherine you got for not telling you about that Mangosta guy that was after Doris," Danny reminded him.
"But I got over that. Very quickly if I recall," Steve replied, clearly trying to prove the two instances were nothing alike. "Mainly because I know how my mother has a way of getting people to do stuff for her. Doris is rather intimidating, in case you hadn't noticed. She got me to help her break in to a high-rise and steal a damn microfiche for her, Danny." His head shook. "You're right. I'm a hypocrite," Steve realized. "And a liar. By not telling Catherine what's going on, I'm lying to her."
"Right. So I think I'll bring pie and my Kevlar vest to Thanksgiving dinner at your place. Just to cover all the bases," Danny concluded.
He knew his friend was mostly joking, but that didn't help calm him much. "Danny, I just don't want to freak her out again if all this turns out to be nothing," Steve breathed out. "It could be someone after me and just using her. Those first pictures of her and Billy could've been to make me jealous. They're all sent to me," he pointed out. Steve's chest tightened with more fear as all of those thoughts flooded his mind.
"Could be," Danny agreed.
"I want her to know I trust her, Danny, because I do," Steve added. "And by not telling her about the pictures… it means I know she can take care of herself, right?"
Danny shrugged. "You do make a compelling argument. But are you convinced?"
Steve sighed. "What other woman would listen to my story about how twelve-year-old-me thought his bed was made out of bullet casings, and not run for the hills?"
"Not many," Danny readily agreed. "Probably only Catherine."
The front HQ door opened and Chin entered. He headed straight for them. "Chin, Thanksgiving at the McGarrett's, what do you say?" Steve offered.
"Oh, well…" the man paused, looking a little sorry for the words about to escape. "I kind of already made other plans with Leilani," Chin revealed.
"Nice," Danny approved.
Chin was momentarily flustered by the compliment. "Not just us. Other friends of hers will be there," he quickly stated.
"Because the two of you are just friends," Danny played along, wondering why both of his co-workers were so dense when it came to dealing with women and admitting their feelings.
"Yes," Chin nodded. He turned to Steve, "Please thank Catherine for the invitation."
"I invited you," Steve replied. The dubious looks on both their faces got him to shrug, "Okay, it was Catherine's idea. We got a case?"
"No," Chin replied. "But I was just at HPD turning in the final paperwork on that robbery-turned-murder from last week, and I learned something you're not going to like," Chin gave them fare warning before he spit it out. "I found out that Wo Fat is being extradited to China next month," he revealed.
Danny's eyes went wide. "Are you joking?"
"I wish I was," Chin responded. "He's one of our country's biggest national security threats, which also makes him one of our country's largest bargaining chip. And apparently the CIA authorized and signed off on an agreement with Chinese officials yesterday to release him in exchange for some source of information. They claim Wo Fat will remain a prisoner and be transferred to a secure facility in Shanghai."
Steve was still in a state of disbelief. "What the hell could they give us that would be worth Wo Fat's release?"
"CIA won't disclose that information," Chin relayed.
"Of course they won't," Steve growled, instantly wondering if his mother knew anything about the agreement. "This is ridiculous. If they let Wo Fat out of that Super Max in Colorado, if he gains any sort of opportunity to communicate with the outside world he'll have an army built up again in no time. He'll get out of that Chinese prison, Chin. I know he will."
"Not much we can do about it," Danny shrugged.
"We'll see about that," Steve wasn't about to back down so easily.
000
"I can't believe you have a dog," Mary remarked as they walked.
"Catherine's dog," Steve replied even as he smiled at the yellow lab trotting along beside him. They stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn in their favor. The dog turned her head toward the flow of traffic, her tags jingling as she did so. Steve was still amused by the military-like dog tags Catherine had found for Trooper's registration and ID.
His sister rolled her eyes, keenly aware of how he was keeping the dog close. "Whatever, it lives with you. And you don't like dogs," she said.
"Why does everyone think that?" his head shook a little. Trooper tugged at her leash, having seen the light change a second before they were aware of it. Steve let the dog guide them across the busy street. "Dad was allergic, remember?" he pointed out. "That's why we never had any pets."
"Okay," Mary brushed off the issue, not wishing to fight with her big brother, as was often the case between them. "So where are we going?"
He looked down the block and spotted the building with arched windows. "To pick up Catherine at her office," Steve replied. "I thought it might be nice if we all had lunch together, just the three of us," he said as if it were no big deal. He was glad Mary had so easily agreed to join them for Thanksgiving, even arriving early to hang out and help prepare.
Mary grinned. "Sure, sounds good" she nodded, eyeing her brother with more awareness than usual. "But you already have my approval."
"Your what?" Steve glanced her way with a quizzical look.
"Steve, I know you still think of me as your kid sister, but I'm not clueless," the young woman was quick to tell him. "I get that you want me to hang out with Catherine so we can know each other better, because you want my approval," she stated. "It's not really necessary, though. I already like her."
His shoulders relaxed a little, unaware that he'd been so tense. "You do?" he breathed out with relief.
She nodded. "Maybe I don't know her that well," Mary admitted. "But I know you, and I know you wouldn't be serious about any woman if she wasn't pretty amazing. And I know she makes you happy. That's all I really care about, big brother," Mary leaned against him, playfully nudging his side with her shoulder. "So when are you going to ask her to marry you?"
"Jeez, Mar…" Steve was shocked by her candor, but more surprised that she could read him so easily. He was starting to realize his little sister had grown up when he wasn't paying attention. At least somewhat.
"What?" she blatantly teased him, her mouth hanging open to reflect his, "You two have known each other for a long time," Mary pointed out. "And now you live together. You're raising a dog together," she waved a hand at Trooper who's ears perked at the sound of her name. "What's wrong? Nerves, right?"
"No," he tried to deny her guess.
Mary saw right through him. "Don't worry, mom said it took dad at least three times before he got up the courage to ask her. Must be a McGarrett male thing. Something about not wanting to do anything wrong, so they wait forever to get it right."
"Really?" Steve was more interested in the previous statement his sister had made. "Dad took that long to ask mom?"
Her head bobbed as they arrived outside Catherine's building. "And apparently he dropped the ring twice before he got it on her finger," Mary laughed.
"No way, not dad," Steve opened the door and held it for her.
"Yes, way," Mary insisted as they walked to the elevator.
Steve mulled over the thought of his dad being nervous about anything. He'd always seemed like the bravest man Steve had ever known. The ride up was quiet, but Trooper grew a little agitated as they exited on the top floor and entered the private security office. Steve guided the dog and his sister to Catherine's office but didn't find her there. Trooper tugged at her leash and Steve followed the dog to the tech room he'd been in once a few weeks ago. He knocked and waited.
Catherine opened the door and looked surprised to see him. She gave him a quick kiss before realizing who he had along for company. "Why did you bring her here?" she asked.
"Mary?" Steve's brow made a deep V, worried about her uncharacteristically rude reaction.
"No, no… not Mary," Catherine slapped his shoulder and glared at him. She then focused on his sister and smiled. "Hi, Mary."
"Hey," the younger woman waved, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"I apologize for your insensitive brother's comment. I meant Trooper," Catherine spoke softer, glancing over her shoulder toward Billy's office. "The last time I had her here she growled at Billy for about two hours. I finally had to take her and my work home with me," she explained as she gave the dog a loving pat, still happy to see her.
"Billy is the ex, right?" Mary asked. She watched Steve and Catherine both nod. Mary bent down and patted the dog affectionately. "What a good girl you are, Trooper," she praised the dog for her obvious dislike of Billy.
With barely contained delight, Steve asked Catherine to join them for lunch and the three of them ended up at Kamekona's shrimp truck about fifteen minutes later. Trooper lay curled up in a shady spot by the picnic table where Catherine sat across from Mary. The two of them waited as Steve ordered their food. "So you're living with Steve now?" Mary inquired.
"Yes," Catherine bit her lip, feeling like she was being judged. "But I hope you know there'll always be room for you at the house, Mary."
"Thanks," Mary slowly sipped her soda. "I noticed you changed some stuff," she added. "You got rid of those red and white curtains in the kitchen and some other little things."
A head nod from Catherine was followed up with a worried look. "I'm sorry. I know it must be weird for you," Catherine acknowledged. "You grew up there and now things are different than what you remember."
"Oh, no," Mary chuckled, "I didn't mention that stuff because I was upset. I think it's good," she revealed. "I'll always have my memories of growing up there. But after my mom died, or… well, you know the whole saga of how she abandoned us," Mary sighed, clearly still not over that either. "My dad kept the house the same as when she was there, kind of like a shrine. When dad died Steve did the same thing. So it's good you're there. The house needs some new life in it. It needs to be a home again," Mary insisted.
Catherine smiled, happy to hear those words. "It feels like the first real home I've ever had," she confessed. A quick look over her shoulder let Catherine know they still had a few more moments alone. "So… is Doris, um… is your mom going to be here tomorrow for Thanksgiving?"
Mary wore a confused look as she shrugged. "I asked her to be, but I'm not so sure."
000
Steve had his hand in the turkey when the doorbell rang. "Hey, ladies!" he called out to Catherine and his sister. "A little busy here!"
The doorbell rang several more times before Steve remembered that both of them had run to the store for last minute items, more potatoes, milk and whip cream. When the bell rang several more times he called out for the person to be patient. Steve removed his hand and washed stuffing off it before he made it to the door. "I swear, Danny, you're worse than a kid ringing that bell repeatedly and…" he stopped when he noticed it wasn't Danny on his doorstep. "Mom?"
Doris glanced at the navy blue apron he was wearing with little stars on it. "That's cute."
"It's Catherine's. What are you doing here?" he asked, still holding the door open but not moving aside to let her in.
"Pretty sure I was invited," she replied. "I thought it would be polite to ring the bell since I'm no longer welcome here without an invitation."
He sighed, not in the mood for her guilt trips. "You're here because Catherine wanted you here. Please don't make a scene today, for Mary and Catherine's sack," he practically begged. When she nodded, he finally stepped aside and allowed her entrance.
"I need to finish stuffing the turkey and get it in the oven," Steve edged toward the kitchen. "Just try not to…" he shook his head and left her. In the kitchen Steve felt a little bad for the rude way he'd treated her. The poor turkey seemed to take the brunt of his irritated mood as he roughly filled it with stuffing, covered it with foil and managed to get it in the oven without mishap. He found her snooping around his dad's desk when he exited the kitchen.
She leaned against the desk, a file folder in her left hand. "Your dad always prepared the turkey," Doris recalled.
"Keeping the tradition alive," Steve said, recalling fond Thanksgivings spent helping his father. "I remember he'd always get me to help him stuff the turkey in the morning before the first football game started. We'd usually manage to get our task done just in time to watch the game," Steve recalled. "I wasn't sure you'd show today," he honestly conveyed.
"Mary asked me to be here," Doris shrugged. "I didn't want to disappoint her, or Catherine… or you," Doris finally said. She opened the case file in her hand and stared at the picture she found inside, a small mark of a bird on human flesh.
Steve studied her face as she glanced at the picture. He thought he saw recognition behind her eyes but couldn't be sure. "Have you seen something like that before?"
"Sort of looks familiar," Doris couldn't take her eyes off it. "Is it a tattoo?"
"Branding," Steve stepped forward and turned to another picture. "That mark was found on two dead bodies last month. Case was solved but…"
"Not to your satisfaction," she easily guessed by the tone of his voice. Doris looked at the picture for another few seconds but finally closed the file and tossed it back on the desk. "It reminds me of that soap logo, Dove bar," Doris dismissed. "Why are you so upset with me?"
He scoffed at that comment. His arms crossed over his chest as he stared her down. "Why did you visit Wo Fat in jail when he was still here?" Steve countered with a burning question of his own. "It seems like a simple question to me, yet you keep avoiding it. That's why I'm upset."
"Last year when Wo Fat came to the safe house I finally gave him the information he wanted," Doris revealed. "It's why I didn't shoot him. And it's why I went to visit him in jail, to find out if he'd used the information to figure out what he was looking for."
"What information? Find who, or what?" Steve demanded more answers, but only seemed to get more questions.
Her head shook. "I can't tell you that, Steve."
"Can't? or won't?" he watched her struggle with the answer to that. "You know you're only here today because Catherine wanted you here, and I'm sure Mary will be happy you're here, too. So for their sake I'm going to play nice. I'm going to help fix the bird. I'm going to watch football. I'm going to sit at the table with you and eat a meal with you and pretend that everything is all happy family. But when dinner is done, you're gone."
Doris was stricken by his harsh words. "Steve, you don't mean that."
"Then just tell me," he implored, looking her in the eye. "Why are you protecting Wo Fat?"
"I'm not, I just…" she sighed, sagging against the desk heavily. "I want all of this to be over."
Steve's head shook. "Wo Fat won't let it end," he warned. "He's got the Chinese government on his side helping him get out of the SuperMax in Colorado. And you can pretty much guarantee he's got something planned once he gets back on his home turf," Steve sighed when he noticed a lack of surprise on her face. "You knew he was getting out, didn't you? Of course you did. You know everything. You hold all the answers. But you won't let anyone else in on the secret."
"I won't help you destroy him!" Doris snapped.
"He had dad killed!" Steve shouted back. "He's been trying to kill you for twenty years, mom."
"I know all of that, don't you think…" her head shook as she tried to calm down, hating the way her own son could rile her. Doris felt her resolve begin to crack as she looked her son in the eye. "Every time I see him I see a five-year-old boy standing over his dead father's body and I can't help think… I did that to him," she lamented.
"His father was a monster," Steve replied, his voice a bit calmer.
She nodded. "Yes, but he was still Wo Fat's father," Doris pointed out. "I didn't think anyone else was in the house the night I went after him. They weren't meant to be there, his family. My contacts assured me that his family had left the compound. But when Wo Fat came running into that room in his pajamas," her voice wavered a little. "Steve, he held on to his father's dead body and just stared up at me with this look on his face, this uncomprehending look. Like he was asking me why I would do such a thing. He never said anything, but that's what I saw in his eyes. And that look is what finally got me out of the CIA."
Doris took a quick breath. "I was done," she continued. "I couldn't hurt anyone else's family. No matter what they might've done they were still someone's father or mother, brother or sister. So I left it all behind to build something knew. And I had that for a while, a family. Your father, you and Mary," she fondly recalled. "Until that little boy decided to bring it all back. And I have no one to blame for that but myself. I created him, Steve. I created Wo Fat. I will not be responsible for destroying him any further."
"Well, if you won't clean up your mess, mom… I will," Steve declared.
000
"This is a ton of food," Steve remarked as Catherine placed the last side dish on the table.
Danny rubbed his hands together, practically drooling. "That's the whole point of today," he said to his partner.
Catherine remained standing at the table as she regarded those gathered. The round table had a leaf inserted to accommodate the extra people. Mary was seated to her left, Danny and Grace sat on the opposite side. Then there was Steve to her right at one end of the table and Doris at the other end. Catherine had sensed something was wrong between them the second she and Mary had returned from the store. Now she could see Steve keeping one wary eye on his mother at all times.
"I know we're all hungry so I'll try to be brief," Catherine hated speeches but felt compelled to say something since she'd been the one to gather everyone. "I haven't really celebrated Thanksgiving in a long time," she looked to Steve, drawing strength from the confident smile he flashed her direction. "When I was seven my baby brother died the week before Thanksgiving, and my parents and I never celebrated together after that. I just wanted to say how very thankful I am to have you all in my life to celebrate this day again."
Steve stood and wrapped his arms about her, hugging her for a moment. He pulled back and kissed her cheek. "Let's eat," he declared.
Grace waited for the dishes to be passed around the table, loading her plate with a little of everything. She caught Catherine's eye across the table and smiled. "I didn't know you had a brother," the girl innocently said. "Do you miss him?"
Danny glanced at his daughter. "That's probably not something we should ask, monkey," he spoke softly.
A small smile tugged at Catherine's lips. "It's okay," she assured Danny. "I haven't spoken about Ben since he died, not until this week," she stole a quick glance with Steve and he aimed another reassuring grin her way. "I do miss him. I still think about how different life would've been with him in it."
"Charlie cries a lot sometimes and gets in to everything now, which can be annoying," Grace seemed at ease talking about it. "But he can be real sweet, too. And when he smiles at me it makes me feel… I don't know," she shrugged, suddenly a bit bashful.
"Special," Catherine practically whispered. "He knows you're his big sister," she said with more confidence. "You're very important to him, Grace. Don't ever doubt that."
"Thanks," the girl beamed proudly.
The table grew silent for a few minutes. The turkey was carved by Steve with great care, and eaten by Danny with great gusto.
"Christmas is coming up," Catherine stated the obvious, feeling bad for bringing up her brother's death when they were meant to be celebrating. It seemed a change of subject might be in order. She looked to the only one in the room under the age of twenty. "Is there anything special you want Santa to bring you this year, Grace?" she asked.
The girl shrugged. "Not really," Grace replied. "I kinda wish we could have a white Christmas again, like we had the last time we were in New Jersey."
"I didn't realize you remembered that, monkey," Danny remarked.
Grace nodded. "I wasn't that little when we left," she stated. "I remember you made the funny snowman with the stocking hat and celery for his nose," the girl giggled.
"Aren't snowmen meant to have carrot noses?" Steve asked. "And stovepipe hats?"
"What do you know?" Danny challenged. "You grew up in the land of perpetual sunshine. Have you ever made a snowman in your life? I doubt it," he jeered. "We didn't have any carrots in the house at the time. And who the heck even owns a stovepipe hat?"
Everyone laughed at Danny's comment.
"We had a white Christmas one year," Doris spoke up for the first time. She looked up and eyed her son. "The year you were eight and we went to California to visit your Aunt Deb," she went on. "We took you to Yosemite and there was a ton of snow, first time you two ever saw snow."
"I don't remember that," Mary said.
Doris smiled at her daughter. "You were only two, and we left you at the cabin with you auntie while your dad and I took Steve sledding. We found this rickety old toboggan at the cabin and I figured for sure it would rattle apart on the way down the hill. But it never did, not after nearly a dozen runs." Doris looked to Steve again. "You loved it. That thing got some serious speed, we were zooming down the hill and you were just smiling," she recalled.
"Of course," Danny nodded. "If he was going fast I'm sure he was happy. He drives my car like that, too. He does everything as fast as possible."
"Not everything," Catherine uttered. When the room went silent she looked up to see all adult eyes on her. "Did I just say that out loud?" she glanced over at Steve, felt her cheeks flush, and pretty much wanted to bury her head in the pile of mashed potatoes on her plate.
Steve grinned and mouthed the word, later, to her.
000
The two of them were cuddled on the sofa later that evening, full bellies and droopy eyes.
Trooper was curled up beneath the coffee table, snoring softly, having enjoyed many scraps sent her way as she'd roamed the Thanksgiving meal table.
"What is this?" Steve asked as he waved a hand at the TV. "I thought there was more football on." He looked to Catherine.
She smiled, "We got to watch the Cowboys beat the Raiders. Happy Thanksgiving to me," Catherine cheered softly, keeping the TV remote securely hidden from him as a movie began to play on the screen. Danny and Grace had left a half hour ago. And Doris had slipped out unnoticed at some point. "What did you and your mom talk about before Mary and I got home this morning?" Catherine asked. "You seemed kind of upset when we got back."
"Nothing really…" he shook his head, eyes aimed on the ice hockey game playing on the screen. "Gravy thickness, I think. She likes it thinner than I do."
"Steve, you're a horrible liar," Catherine persisted. "I watched the two of you today, sitting at the table but not speaking to each other. She told that sweet story about you snow sledding and you just kept one eye on her all the time like she was about to run off with the mashed potatoes and not return them for twenty years."
"You know how much I like your mashed potatoes," Steve replied without much emotion.
Catherine had been hoping for some small spark of a smile from him after the potato comment. But he was clearly more upset than she'd realized. "Talk to me. How can I help make things right between the two of you? I thought inviting her today would be a start, but…"
"You can't, Catherine," he turned to her with a sigh. "And it's not your job," Steve felt awful that she thought she had to play peacekeeper between him and his mother. It made sense to him now, though, given what he knew about her parent's marriage. He guessed that was a role she knew well. "She won't tell me what's really going on with Wo Fat and I don't want to live with her dancing around the truth anymore. I'm done with her," he declared.
Her heart ached to see him so upset. "I don't think you really mean that. Doris is…"
Mary entered the room, having come from the kitchen. "I think I'm going to head up to bed," the young woman announced.
"No, stay, it's still really early," Catherine offered. "Watch a movie with us," she beckoned Mary over, shifting a little closer to Steve to give his sister room.
"Are you sure?" Mary was a little hesitant as she sat. "I don't want to intrude."
"You're not," Catherine insisted. "Have you ever seen this movie, The Cutting Edge?"
"Yes, I love this movie," Mary nodded, settling down when she realized what they were watching.
"Me, too," Catherine said.
"Guess my football is definitely out the window," Steve lamented as he watched two of his favorite women chat about the movie. He couldn't help be happy that they were getting along so well. And part of him wished his mother could partake of that bonding as well. But he swiftly shook her from his thoughts.
"I wanted to try ice skating after I watched this movie," Mary recalled.
"I spent nearly ten years figure skating when I was younger," Catherine said.
"No way, so cool," Mary was impressed.
Seeing the ice hockey bits of the film rapidly make way for some prissy lady figure skating made Steve groan, "Chick flick," he fake-coughed.
Catherine rolled her eyes at his comment. "He's very subtle," she complained to Mary.
"Tell me about it," the younger woman agreed. "Once when I was eight I asked him to play My Little Ponies with me. I even offered to let him play with Twinkle Toes, because she was the blue pony. But Steve ended up tossing her in the ocean rather than just saying he didn't want to play. I never saw Twinkle Toes again."
"That is so mean," Catherine scolded.
Steve scoffed at her comment. "That was about twenty years ago, okay. I was a teenaged boy. I'm pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on that crime," he stated. "I'm not so sure I like the two of you being friends," he jokingly added.
"What other Steve stories can you tell me about?" Catherine leaned toward Mary, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
"No, no… there will be no more Steve stories, thank you very much," he protested, glaring at Catherine. Steve pulled her close again and focused on the movie. "Doesn't that father guy look a little like Joe White if he was about twenty years younger?"
"Nice distraction technique," Catherine smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "But yes."
The ringing of Catherine's cell phone interrupted their movie.
"It's Thanksgiving, why is your phone even on?" Steve complained.
"You never turn yours off," she accused, getting up and fetching the cell phone off the coffee table.
Mary and Steve listened to the one-sided conversation for a few minutes before Catherine hung up.
"That was Billy," she revealed. Trooper barked upon hearing the man's name. "He's taken a case tonight and needs my help," Catherine sighed. "It's an assignment to provide private security detail for Mike Flay's two daughters who want to do some late-night Black Friday shopping."
"Mike Flay?" Steve sat up, leaning forward as Catherine stood in front of him. "As in, the lead singer of the hit rock band, Naughty Nahacky?" he looked up at her and received an affirmative nod. "He's a legend. Naughty Nahacky was pretty much the greatest local indie rock band from the early nineties."
"I didn't know that, but Billy says he runs a multi-million dollar recording label," Catherine explained. "And he has daughters, seventeen and sixteen, that are apparently legendary as well. Apparently they're known for getting in to trouble easily. Which is why Flay hired Billy and I to take them shopping."
Steve sat back against the sofa again. "Mike Flay has teenaged daughters? Now I feel old."
Catherine smiled and bent down to kiss Steve, whispering in his ear. "Stay and watch the movie with your sister, old man. She'll appreciate it."
He kissed her on the lips and nodded. "Be safe."
000
"Well, this is fun," Catherine commented as she and Billy stood behind their two charges in a dismally long line.
Billy smiled. "I know, and I'm sorry I ruined your Thanksgiving night. But it's a good assignment, easy. And it could potentially get word of mouth going for us. Unfortunately we need all these little jobs to get us the bigger jobs."
Catherine nodded, "Understood," she agreed. The teenaged girls in front of them were preoccupied with their cell phones and flirting with any man under the age of forty. "So, how are you and An doing?" Catherine tried to change the subject. Billy had been pretty mellow the last few weeks, nose to the grindstone at work, not very chatty. Catherine hadn't noticed any further odd behavior from him, which she was thankful of. She figured it had to do with the woman in his life. "You don't mention her much. Are you still seeing each other?"
"Sort of, I guess," Billy shrugged as they moved a few feet closer to the store's entrance.
"That didn't sound convincing at all," Catherine said as she turned to look at her friend. "What gives?"
He sighed, head shaking slightly. "She travels a lot for her job so it makes things a little complicated," Billy answered.
"Been there," she sympathized, very glad that she and Steve were finally living in the same time-zone on a permanent basis.
"She's smart, sexy…" he went on, clearly frustrated by something else. "But…" Billy sighed again. "I don't know. She just doesn't have something. She doesn't laugh very much. That's weird isn't it? I find it weird." Harrington looked Catherine in the eye. "You, you're always smiling," he observed. "You're a happy person." Billy rolled his shoulders in a frustrated manner. "How do you know if someone is the one? You and I both seemed to know we weren't…"
Thoughts of Steve made her smile again. "When its right you just know," she offered. "You want to be with them, watch movies you don't like together just to spend time with them. You want to change your life for them, uproot yourself. And you can't imagine not coming home to them," Catherine concluded.
One of the girls turned around, the older of the two, long chestnut hair draped over one shoulder. "We're so done here," Molly Flay declared as they stepped out of line and motioned for their bodyguards to do the same. "This crowd is lame and I already got the iPad I wanted for my BFF Liz…"
"Great, we'll take you home then," Catherine declared, knowing their father could've bought them a hundred iPads without needing a fifty dollar Black Friday discount.
"No way," Molly shook her head and glared at Catherine. "We don't want to go home. If we go home now daddy will make a huge deal about how we only stayed out for a few hours, and he won't let us do this again. Besides," she cozied up to Billy's side and batted her eyelashes. "I have to buy you something for all your help, handsome."
Billy cleared his throat and stood up straighter. "This is a job I was hired for. Your father is paying me," Harrington declared.
"I could pay you more," Molly offered in a sultry tone.
"Okay," Catherine physically stepped between Molly and Billy, prying the girl's hands off his forearm. "Completely inappropriate behavior," she glared at the teenager.
"What are you, my mother?" the seventeen year old scoffed.
"No, thank goodness," Catherine replied, mostly under her breath. "We'll take you wherever else it is you want to go. Let's just try to remember that you're an assignment for us. We are not here for your amusement or entertainment. This is a professional job for us. Are we clear?"
Molly wore a defiant look, but her sister whispered something in her ear. "Sure. We're used to just being an assignment for our bodyguards," Molly finally shrugged.
Catherine looked to Billy with narrowed eyes. "I'm gonna punch her," she watched his head shake. "Can I at least slap her?"
"I'll go get the car," Billy said, making a quick retreat from the scene.
"Wimp," Catherine said to him, smiling as she watched him hurriedly cross the parking lot.
The seventeen year old stood on the curb with her arms folded across her chest. "You just want Mr. Hunky for yourself, right?" Molly turned on Catherine again when Billy was out of sight. "I'm sure you must have trouble getting a guy with that attitude of yours," she quipped.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I have a boyfriend that I live with," Catherine did her best to keep a civil tone.
"Do they still call them boyfriends at your age?" Molly laughed.
"Molly, stop it," the younger girl, Wendy, actually looked mortified by her sister's actions.
A flash of light caught Catherine's attention, thankfully stopping her thoughts of strangling the annoying teenager. Catherine looked up and scanned the area. There were a ton of people around, most of them still in the line they'd left a few minutes ago. Another bright flash caused her to blink. Finally she spotted a man across the parking lot with a large DSLR camera in his hands. "What the heck does he think he's doing?" she stepped off the curb. "He's not from a newspaper."
"He's just typical Paparazzi," Wendy said with an unconcerned shrug. "They follow us around a lot. It's not a big deal."
Catherine looked to both girls and could see they weren't happy about the man continuously taking their picture. Even Molly had her head down, hiding her face from the camera's view angle. And even though Catherine was pretty well exasperated by the girls' behavior so far, she respected their right to privacy. She set off across the parking lot, stalking toward the man, right hand lightly brushing against the gun strapped to her side.
"What are you doing?" Molly asked as she and her sister followed Catherine. "Don't talk to him, you'll just make it worse," she warned.
Not heeding the girl's warning, Catherine walked right up to the man. He was about six feet tall with messy dark hair and built solid. "I'd like you to stop following these girls," Catherine was straight forward with her request. "What you do is just rude."
"Yeah, whatever, lady," he held his camera up again and began to snap close-ups of the girls and their bodyguard.
"Pretty sure you didn't hear me just now," Catherine grabbed the wrist that held his camera and twisted it backwards without a second thought. Her movement was so swift that the man bent over in pain and dropped the camera. "Leave us alone," she insisted, walking away.
He waited until her back was turned to strike back, but Catherine anticipated his move. She leaned forward as he came at her, grabbed his arm and used his forward motion against him, flipping him over her back. The man landed on his butt and his head hit the ground with an echoing thud. "Damn, lady," he groaned. "You're crazy."
She picked up his camera, pulled out the digital card and crushed it beneath her shoe. "We won't see you around again, will we?"
The man sat up with some difficulty. "No," he croaked, rubbing his sore head.
"Good," Catherine smiled as she directed the girls back toward the curb.
"Whoa," Wendy stared at the woman for a moment. "What did you just do? None of our bodyguards do stuff like that. They just let the stupid guys take our picture."
"It seemed like you two were bothered by it, so it bothered me," Catherine shrugged.
Molly tried to remain aloof but she couldn't. "Can you teach us that stuff?" she finally asked. "Those ninja moves?"
"Yeah, that was completely bad-ass," Wendy agreed.
Catherine glared at the young woman for her language. "Just basic self-defense stuff," she said, not thinking she'd done anything significant. But as she eyed the girls she could finally tell that she'd earned their respect. That made her smile a little. "Sure, I can teach you."
"Awesome," Wendy grinned as Billy pulled to the curb to pick them up.
They piled in, the girls both chattering quickly, telling Billy what had happened. He drove them to the next store on their list and they all stood in line again for hours. The process was repeated a few more times until Billy and Catherine finally dropped the girls at home around nine-thirty the following morning. Harrington drove Catherine back to their office building where she'd left her car parked on the street. The sun was up and folks were already starting the new day.
"You really impressed them," Billy said.
She remained in his car for a moment, hoping she was awake enough to drive home. "I think they just need someone to care," Catherine shrugged.
He nodded. "You're pretty amazing, Catherine."
Those words caused Catherine to feel a little uncomfortable but she smiled softly, not wanting to be rude. She wasn't sure if he'd taken her smile the wrong way or what, but in the blink of an eye he was leaning toward her, hand at the back of her neck. "Billy, no…" she pushed him away, her heart racing to realize he'd been about to kiss her. "What do you think… why would you even try that?" Catherine ran both hands over her face, hoping she hadn't given him any sort of sign that she'd been willing.
"I'm sorry," his head shook. "I… that was," Billy sighed regretfully. "You are amazing, Catherine. And I'm an idiot," he concluded.
"I need to go," she exited the car and walked down the sidewalk to her vehicle in a bit of a daze.
000
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," he whispered.
Her eyes fluttered open to see Steve lying beside her on top of the bed covers. "Hmm… what time is it?" she asked, yawning and stretching her arms above her head.
"1830," he let her know. "What time did you get home?"
"Not until about ten this morning," Catherine reached out and let her fingers caress his jawline. "Molly and Wendy took us out for breakfast. They're actually very sweet when you dig beneath their protective layers. Those girls lost their mother when they were eight and nine, then went on tour with their father for five years before he finally settled down and started his recording business. Heck of a life for them," she sympathized. "You were gone when I got home so I took a shower and fell into bed with Trooper. Where'd you go?"
"Dropped Mary at the airport, stopped by HQ briefly and then did some holiday shopping with Danny," he reported. "We figured out the perfect gift for Grace and went to at least a dozen different stores to find everything we'll need for it. I think she'll be happy."
Catherine smiled, loving how much he cared for the girl who called him uncle. "You're really sweet with Grace, especially the way you and she played with Trooper yesterday."
"Yeah, well…" he shrugged. "It's good practice, right?"
"Practice for what?" she sat up, adjusting her disheveled t-shirt.
"You know, in case we ever…" Steve stalled, looking her in the eye. "In case Mary ever has kids, which will hopefully not be for many years."
She nodded. "What did you buy me today?" Catherine asked.
"Nothing," he kissed her on the lips, wondering if she was really that clueless about his kid comment, or if she was just dodging the issue.
"Way to hurt a girl's feelings," she pouted.
"I got you a few things, small things," Steve revealed. "I have something else planned for your main Christmas present."
Her eyes widened, "Such as?"
He chuckled. "I never realized you were a snoop. Don't you like surprises?"
"No," Catherine was honest. "I like to know about everything that happens before it happens, that way I can be prepared. Didn't you know that's why I decided to specialize in intelligence work? I get to know all the secrets first. And you do remember the story about me sneaking downstairs to see my gifts on Christmas Eve and finding Cowboy," she once again reminded him of that story. "Afraid I'm still the same girl who snuck down every Christmas Eve to see her presents before Christmas morning."
Steve shook his head. "Not telling you," he maintained.
"I have special means of torture that can get you to talk," Catherine tackled him to the bed and straddled him, her palms pressed against his chest.
"Nope," he easily sat up and shifted her to his lap. "I'm hungry. Shopping is very tiring and I could devour every bit of leftovers in the fridge. We should eat."
Catherine remained seated on his lap, a little disappointed. "Can we eat in bed?" she suggested.
"Shouldn't we eat downstairs at the table like civilized people?" he countered.
She pouted, "Are you going to make me regret I ever taught you that trick?" Catherine watched him laugh, loving the way his eyes squinted when he let himself be carefree. "Steve, I need to tell you something," she suddenly remembered. "Tonight… I mean, this morning…"
His eyes connected with hers, worry creeping in as she stumbled over her words. "What's wrong?" he asked, pushed hair behind both her ears. "Catherine, did something happen when you were with the girls that upset you?" Steve wondered.
"No, well… there was that stupid photographer taking pictures of us, but…"
"What photographer?" he was immediately on alert.
Catherine detailed that part quickly, but dismissed it in favor of the pressing matter. "Billy tried to kiss me," she finally revealed.
With his mind still reeling from her account of the man taking pictures of her, the news about Billy sunk in slowly. "He…" his hands balled in to fists as he pushed Catherine away and got up off the bed, "Unbelievable," Steve stalked across the room.
"Hey," she went to him, hands on either side of his face so he'd look at her. "I stopped him. Nothing happened."
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, hating the way she was trying to reassure him. "I believe you," Steve kissed her softly, protectively. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned down, burying his face against her neck. "I trust you, Catherine," he reiterated the words he'd spoken to her at the cemetery a month ago.
"I'm not going to stop working with Billy," she announced.
With a small step back, Steve looked her in the eye. "Seriously?" he was surprised.
"Steve, if I'd threatened to quit the Navy every time some guy I worked with tried to kiss me I would've quit a hundred times," Catherine sighed.
Unfortunately he knew that was all too true an occurrence in much of the armed forces. "This is a little different, though."
"I know," she agreed, "But I'm not giving up my job because of this. I can handle it."
Steve gazed down at her. He wanted to protest, wanted to scream, wanted to rip Billy's throat out. But he stood there and nodded. "Okay," he supported her.
000
She placed the last two glasses on the top rack and closed the dishwasher.
Catherine had just pushed the button to start the cleaning cycle when she felt his warm arms wrap around her from behind. She relaxed against him, hands resting atop his at her waist. "Are you upset?" her eyes closed for a moment, recalling how quiet he'd been all through dinner.
"I'd be lying if I said no," Steve replied. He was still lying to her about the pictures, though, which was beginning to eat him up inside. "But I don't want to talk about Billy any more tonight. I want to show you something," Steve took her by the hand and guided her back to the dining area.
There were two large boxes, one on the table with tattered red paper covering it and black marker spelling out the words: Christmas Stuff.
The second box was much bigger and on the floor in front of the desk. It was green and white with the word, Tree, written on it.
"Christmas decorations already?" Catherine couldn't help smile.
"We always used to pull out the Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving," he replied, "At least before mom left."
It was hard to hear him struggling to deal with his feelings in regard to Doris. Catherine hated to see him sad or upset in any manner. She did her best to distract him, reaching inside the smaller box and pulling out a camouflage patterned stocking. "I remember this from last year," Catherine grinned, knowing he'd had the Christmas stocking since he was little. "I think I'll hang on to this so I can measure it for the lump of coal I plan to leave you this year," she teased.
He could only smile at her playfulness as he snatched the stocking from her. Steve was confident he had nothing to worry about in regard to Catherine having romantic feelings for Billy. He was certain that wasn't the case. "And here I was in a jolly holiday mood, thinking I might give you one of your Christmas gifts early," he taunted.
Her eyes lit and she sucked in a hopeful breath. "What if I said please?"
"Nah, you don't sound very sincere."
She stepped in front of him, her body pressed firmly against his. Catherine clasped her hands behind his neck and drew him down to her. "Pretty please?" she repeated with an extra plea, her lips almost touching his but keeping him at bay.
"Are you trying to use sexual prowess to get me to cave?" his head shook in mock-disappointment.
"Is it working?" she made no qualms about her methods, closing the miniscule gap between them and giving in to the kiss. Her mouth connected with his, paying particular attention to suckling his lower lip. She effortlessly yielded to his parted lips, deepening the union.
With a ragged breath, Steve broke off the steamy kiss and pointed to something on the table.
Torn between wanting more of what she'd started with him, and curiosity about the gift, Catherine finally reached for the small, shimmery green box.
Steve contentedly watched her open the box and pull the gift free. It dangled on her right index finger from a delicate silver string. "I know from unpacking your stuff that you have zero Christmas decorations. I wanted to get you something special for our Christmas tree."
Catherine almost cried when she saw it, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Did you pay for this one?" she asked.
"All on my own," he boasted.
She held the ornament as if it were made of glass. In fact it was wooden, a bed fashioned out of small rustic twigs. It even had a tiny green and red plaid quilt and a pillow. "This is perfect," Catherine examined it closer and noticed something carved on the small wood frame. "SM+CR 2013," her smile grew brighter. "Thank you for this," she whispered, pressing another tender kiss against his willing lips.
"We should put the tree up," he suggested. "So we can hang your ornament," Steve let her go. "This thing is kinda ancient," he remarked, wrestling the fake tree out of the box. "Don't they make them more realistic looking these days, and with lights already on them?"
"They do," Catherine responded. "But I know this one has been in your family for a while. I like that," she said. "We never had any traditions when I was a kid, and our decorations were usually different every year. It cost too much to keep a bunch of stuff to move from base to base."
Hearing about Catherine's vagabond childhood always made him realize how lucky he was to have had a steady home, at least for a while. "I remember the first Christmas that Mary was really able to understand what was going on. We all took her to see Santa, to sit on his lap," Steve recalled. "But she got scared so I offered to go with her."
Catherine smiled, picturing the scene in her head. "Did you sit on Santa's lap with her?" she asked.
"I did," he wasn't too proud to admit. "Mary was thrilled once she saw me do it. She jumped up on Santa's lap and starting babbling about the My Little Pony farm she wanted."
Listening to his childhood memories was an even better gift than the ornament. She felt honored by the way he was opening up more. "Need some help?" she eyed the tree.
"Yeah, if you could bring the middle section over," Steve hefted the largest piece out of the box, the bottom section. He positioned it in the corner near the back window.
Trooper trotted over and started sniffing inside the box. "Trooper, no," Catherine said, holding the tree higher. "This isn't a toy. Go lay down, girl," she instructed.
The dog was too interested in the green plastic branches to obey, thinking they might be used for a game of catch. Trooper got excited and pounced on Catherine, causing the tree to slip from her grip. "Shit!" she exclaimed, jumping out of the way. Plastic branches collided with the desk and bounced off, but not before taking out half of the items on the desk.
"You okay?" Steve asked as he hustled over.
"Fine," Catherine mumbled as she eyed the dog, unable to be mad at the canine. "I'm sorry about the desk, though," she got down on her knees to start picking everything up.
He got down on the floor with her. "The desk can take it," Steve grinned. They placed pens and pencils back in a metal catch-all bin, and righted some files and papers. As they put everything back in order, Steve scanned the files. There were only a few, but he could tell one was missing. "Is there anything under the desk?" he asked.
Catherine checked but shook her head and stood. "No, we got everything."
Steve searched through the files on the desk again and grumbled beneath his breath, "Damn it, mom."
"Hey," Catherine put a hand to his arm, a little worried. "What's wrong?"
"She took my file," Steve realized. "Dugan and Chase's case file," he sighed. "It was right here on the desk," Steve pointed. "She was looking at that picture like she recognized something and now the file is gone. That's no coincidence. I can't believe she just took off with it."
"Maybe you put it somewhere else and forgot," Catherine lightly suggested.
"No!" he lost his cool for a moment. "I'm sorry," Steve looked her in the eye. "It was here yesterday and now it's gone, Cath. She took it."
"Okay… but why would she do that?" Catherine had to wonder.
"Because she knows something about that dove symbol. I could see it in her eyes," Steve was certain.
She chewed her lip, "I know there's something about that case that has been eating at you for the last month, but do you really think Doris has anything to do with it?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," he was still pissed.
"Then maybe I could help you," Catherine offered, hoping to calm him some more. "I have plenty resources at work, and we can figure this out together."
He pulled her toward him, feeling unworthy of her presence in his life. "You sure? Mom's still not being entirely honest about Wo Fat. And you know he's about to be released. If all of these things are connected somehow…" he still wasn't sure. "I have a really bad feeling things could get ugly."
Catherine nodded, "Ugly doesn't scare me," she assured him.
To be continued…
