You Owe Me

by njborba

Steve thinks he's finally ready for a future with Catherine, but nothing goes as planned.

16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Hawaii Five-0.

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You Owe Me
Part 16

By
N. J. Borba

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Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Kaube walked Steve through the base.

Steve's desert camouflage working uniform was crisper and cleaner than it had been in several months, and his dark hair was buzzed to barely a quarter inch above his scalp. Three long months of covert ops had left him a bit shaggy and fatigued. The last two days of R&R in Kabul had been a welcome change. Forty-eight hours in an air conditioned hotel room with actual running water, at least warm if not hot, had been a dream. Only one thing could've made his time there better, but he tried not to think about that one thing.

"Sorry about the heat, but it is July in Afghanistan," Kaube said as they marched along a row of identical buildings.

The vacation was certainly over as Steve set his sights on the next assignment, "Nothing you can control. I grew up in Hawaii, sir, the heat doesn't bother me much," he remarked, "Helps that there's not much humidity here."

"That it does," Kaube agreed, "You'll be sleeping in one of the B-Huts over there, the Lieutenant can show you to your hut later," the older man pointed toward an area to their left where row after row of rectangular structures resided, concrete slab, wooden stick frame with plywood walls and a few small windows. "Not the nicest accommodations, but you won't sleep much here with the airstrip so close. Hope you brought along your earplugs. Bet you miss your fancy ship already?"

"Actually, I haven't been on a ship in a while, sir, always coming and going," Steve replied, his eyes squinting against the afternoon sun, "SEALs go wherever they're needed most. And I haven't had a decent night's rest in…" his head shook as the Colonel led him further afield, "Not even sure the last time that happened," he lied, recalling the night almost nine months ago when he and Catherine had shared a small hotel bed, another fleeting moment of comfort in their hectic lives.

Not even the nice hotel in Kabul had helped him sleep very well.

Kaube nodded, "Good, I like a man who can handle the situation. I'm guessing this Intel outpost is about as far as the Navy gets from water."

"What do you know about the Navy's Intel team leader stationed here?" Steve questioned, still not sure why he'd been assigned an Intel job all of a sudden. He'd worked Intel assignments for years, earlier in his Navy career. But for nearly four years now he'd been firmly entrenched with SEAL missions, "What's he like?"

The stalwart Colonel waved a hand at another drab-tan building, slightly smaller than a B-Hut, not much wider than a shipping container. "Navy Lieutenant you'll be working with is not a he," Kaube pushed the flimsy door open and ushered Steve inside. "Never been the biggest fan of women in the military, but this Lieutenant," he pointed to a figure hunched over a desk at the far end of the structure, "She can hold her own. Been out here for almost six months, never heard a complaint except when the Satellite connection kicks out."

They were only halfway across the small building when a fighter jet screamed overhead outside. The raucous flight path caused the poor structure to rattle visibly.

But the woman behind the desk didn't seem bothered by the disturbance, bulky headphones in place over her ears and fingers typing speedily.

Steve walked just a pace behind the Colonel as they approached her desk, a not-so-impressive six foot sheet of plywood with rickety metal legs that shook precariously as another jet flew by. The work station had minimal content, laptop, satellite router, printer and several stacks of files. The woman bent over the laptop had dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, dressed in the same desert camouflage uniform as Steve. And just over the top of her collar Steve spotted something that caused his heart to skip a few beats.

"Lieutenant?" Kaube tried to catch her attention. When she failed to respond, the colonel gently pried the left headphone cup off her ear, "Lieutenant Rollins, thought you'd like to know your new recruit has arrived," the man announced, "And he outranks you," he needlessly added.

Catherine's chair spun around, she ripped off her headphones and stood, "Sorry, sir, I didn't hear you enter."

"Obviously," Kaube nodded with a slight scowl.

She finally glanced over at the man standing beside Kaube. Catherine looked up at Steve with wide brown eyes.

"Nice to see you again, Lieutenant," Steve said, barely able to keep from smiling.

She took a quick breath before responding, "You, too, Commander. What brings you to Bagram?"

"Change of pace," he shrugged, "And orders," Steve tried to play things cool.

"I get the impression you two know each other?" Kaube watched them both nod, "That's great, makes my job easier. Lieutenant Rollins pretty much runs the show here, she can get you set up," the man declared before quickly exiting the Intel outpost.

She stood there facing Steve for a moment longer, so close yet not touching. Catherine did her best to maintain that status quo as she skirted past him and walked over to a smaller version of her plywood desk. "My technical support team, Dagger and Flank, just went to grab lunch," Catherine motioned toward two empty workstations to her left, "You'll meet them later. This will be your station here," she pointed to the desktop monitor and keyboard, "Computer is ancient," she noted, powering it up, "But we make due."

"Last I heard you were stationed in Kabul," he left out the part about how he'd tried to track her down there during his two days of R&R, "How the heck did you end up here at Bagram airfield, this isn't a normal Navy outpost," Steve said as he watched her type a sequence of numbers to wake the computer.

"You know… the glamorous life of Navy Intel," Catherine shrugged, "See the world."

He chuckled.

"What?" she asked, turning to face him again, "Something amusing, Commander?"

"Nothing, I just…" Steve dropped his smile, worried about her guarded attitude, "I guess I've never really seen this side of you before… doing your job," he clarified.

"I take it very seriously," Catherine responded, doing her best to keep things civil, "I was in Kabul for several months and Navy command got spooked by a Taliban hacker. Of course the hacker didn't get very far with my security. But they decided to set up this temporary outpost for me here, throw any hackers off our trail," she explained. "Not that twenty-five miles north is all that more secure," she pointed out. "Intel can be more dangerous than you might realize."

He wasn't surprised by her all-business attitude. But Steve had to try to smooth things over if he hoped for the two of them to work together, "How've you been?"

"You mean for the last nine months since I've heard from you?" Catherine asked; her tone short as she continued to connect his computer to the satellite dish.

"Yeah," Steve winced, "Since then."

Without looking over her shoulder she replied coolly, "I'm fine, what have you been up to?"

"Highly classified special ops in Iraq," he replied, catching sight of the back of her neck again and the very tip of the star tattoo that had helped him identify her earlier.

"I guess that explains why I haven't heard from you," Catherine frowned when the satellite connection lagged, "Come on," she crouched down and fiddled with the cables behind the computer tower that sat directly on the concrete floor, "Just work for once without me having to…"

"Looks like you got it," Steve said, noticing the map that appeared on screen. He watched her stand and dust off her knees. They came face to face again and he wasn't sure why she looked so disheartened when she eyed him. She'd always been glad to see him in the past, "You didn't think I was dead, did you?" he finally asked.

"No," Catherine quickly responded, "I knew you weren't dead."

"Instinct?" Steve guessed.

She sighed, leaning against the plywood desk and crossing her arms over her chest, "After you didn't call for six months I finally decided to investigate, checked records. You weren't listed on any KIA, MIA or injury lists. So I figured you'd either lost my phone number," Catherine shrugged, her eyes roaming the tiny room as she tried not to look him in the eye, "Or you just weren't interested any more," she concluded.

"Cath, I still have your phone number," Steve did his best to assure her. But he noticed an icy glare in her brown eyes that he'd never been on the receiving end of before, "Sorry, Lieutenant," he corrected, realizing calling her Cath was too personal for their work environment despite the fact they were alone. Her glare dissolved into something worse, disappointment. Steve suddenly realized why, "It's not the other reason either, it's just… it's complicated."

"There's no need to explain, Commander," her tone turned aloof again, "Navy SEALs live a secret life. They're in danger all the time, can't get attached. I understand."

He knew understanding and accepting were two different things, "Meet me tonight for dinner and I'll try to explain," Steve offered.

She almost smiled, but stopped herself, "We've never been very good at sitting down for dinner, Commander, and I seriously doubt DFAC has anything sugary enough to smooth this over," Catherine dismissed his offer, "We've got work to do. I assume you know why you're here?"

"Actually…" he shrugged, "The orders were a surprise, and not detailed."

"Maybe I can clear things up for you," she got back to business, "Two weeks ago you and your SEAL team were sent in to capture the Taliban leader, Mashaal Rafiq in northern Pakistan. My last six months at this tiny outpost have been spent tracking Rafiq's every move. So your story about special ops in Iraq was just a cover."

His mouth hung open a moment, "Wait a second… are you saying you knew exactly what I was up to?"

"No, I was never given names of the SEAL team," Catherine revealed.

"Names or not that was a highly classified mission," Steve was still shocked, "According to command, we weren't even sure Rafiq would be there when we breached the compound."

She shrugged, "I gave command my best estimate. I was about ninety-eight percent sure Rafiq would be there, but there's always room for error," Catherine revealed. "I have a pretty high classification clearance rating for the work I do, Commander," she added, "Intel is not glamorous but it's the heart of the military, keeps it beating."

Steve hated how upset she still seemed to be with him, but he admired her a great deal, "That it does," he nodded, "So you're to thank for capturing Rafiq?"

Her head shook, "I just did the research, you took care of the hard stuff," she dismissed. "Now I need to be briefed on everything that you saw and did during that mission so we can break down the information and analyze it. We think a huge faction of his Taliban cell is still camped out closer to the Afghanistan border, and my job now is to find the rest of them so you, or whatever team they send out next, can capture them. I can do this on my own, but it'll be easier with your help."

"Sounds like we have work to do, Lieutenant," Steve agreed, still extremely impressed by her involvement even though she tried to downplay it.

000

"No," his heart quickened, "Catherine…"

Not heeding his warning, Catherine walked right into the circle of guards. She aimed Steve's gun at Lawson and kicked him in the back of the legs, causing him to fall onto his knees. She circled around front and steadied the gun, pressing it against his forehead. Her heart thumped as she stared down at him. She could feel her pulse pounding in every muscle, echoing in her ears. Fingers clenched the weapon tightly. Eyes focused. Feet planted firmly.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Lawson taunted her.

"Do you have a reason why I shouldn't?" Catherine asked.

Lawson looked up at her with a heartless grin, "I don't."

She couldn't look away from him, an internal struggle battling in her head, to pull the trigger or not. Catherine had always been better with hard facts, concrete intelligence collected over days, weeks, months of diligent work. Figures and charts and tangible information gathered to make an informed decision, to pursue the enemy or wait them out, to flank their weak side or to lure them out on the stronger side of their defensive lines. She understood war and sacrifice at the technical, analytical level.

The emotional aspect of any battle, big or small, was so much trickier. It was never all just black or white.

"Then what are you doing here?" she demanded, trying to gauge her enemy. For so long he'd had the upper hand, but now with him at her mercy, she held all the power. He had to do what she demanded for once. And what she wanted most were answers.

He shrugged, "I guess I'm just getting too old for all of this. I've grown tired of it."

Her fingers twitched against the cool metal of Steve's SIG Sauer, squeezing the trigger ever so slightly, still weighing the options in her head.

One option was clamoring louder than the other.

Steve held his hands out as he slowly approached Catherine's left side, trying to analyze the situation. He could hear the hushed voices of worried civilians in the lobby and could see the tense looks on the guard's faces. Steve motioned over his shoulder to Danny, pointing toward the civilians first and the front door second. He could see Danny from the corner of his eye as the detective quietly and efficiently gathered everyone and guided them safely out of the building.

"Catherine, I know you're upset right now," Steve spoke plainly, really not sure what her state of mind was at the moment. He guessed upset was only the very tip of the iceberg, "But you don't want to do this, it's not self-defense…"

"No, it's self-preservation," she immediately replied, her eyes never leaving Lawson.

"Hey, okay, just listen to me for a second," he tried again, keeping his voice calm and reassuring, "You think I don't want him dead?" Steve let a sigh escape, hoping his composed attitude might help her relax. "If he had come at me or you I would not have hesitated to pull that trigger myself," he assured her, "But his hands are cuffed and he's not going anywhere, Catherine. So let's take him down to the interrogation room and…"

"And what?" she didn't let him finish, "Listen to more lies," her head shook.

Lawson grinned as his gaze shifted to Steve, "I obviously haven't hurt you as much as I've hurt her," his tone was almost boastful. "She wants to pull that trigger badly, just like she stabbed Wo Fat in the neck," his eyes returned to Catherine, "You think you're better than me, but you really aren't. Neither one of you," he smugly shook his head. "You want revenge just as much as I have all these years." He looked Catherine in the eye, "Take it. It's why I'm here, to end this. You have your chance now. I just want to help you, Catherine. If you kill me it will help you end all this. It will make all of your pain go away."

She swallowed, thinking back to what he'd told her about plotting to kill John McGarrett. Catherine remembered how that hadn't helped him feel better.

"Don't listen to him. He's trying to control you, Catherine," Steve gulped down the fear in his heart as she remained rooted. He still wasn't sure how much damage being locked away on that ship had done to her. "He's lost control of everything else and now he's trying to regain his footing. He couldn't get me to go after him at Koko Head, and you told me you were proud of me for not giving in to what he wanted that day. So don't listen to him now, Cath, please. You're stronger than he is, so much stronger."

"What if I'm not?" she whispered.

Steve's heart ached for her, "You are," he insisted, "I know you are. I've read every word of your journal and the strength and even the vulnerability you wrote to me makes me believe that you're strong enough to fight this or anything else. I believe in you, Catherine."

Her bottom lip was bit, frustration and confusion still battling in her mind, "But it could be over right now, right here if I just…"

"No," Steve stopped that method of thought, "He wants this. He wants to manipulate you. You said it yourself just a few minutes ago up in HQ," he took the opening she'd created with her hesitation, "Lawson has been seeking a way to control something, maybe someone, for so many years. But every time he gets close he loses it. He lost Hannah, and his children, and even his twenty year plan for revenge against my family has slipped from his grasp. You're his last hope for control, for revenge. But you have to fight him, Catherine."

"I already did," she sighed.

Steve hated how weary her voice sounded. He knew he had to be strong for her, "I know you did, but just one more time. Okay?"

Catherine's arms tensed again, "I don't think so. I just want this over."

"Think about Evan," Steve took another step closer to her, using his best ammunition yet, "He's so little and he has a lifetime ahead to share with you, to share with us. You want that, I know you do. I read in your journal about how much you love Evan and want to protect him. Evan needs you, Catherine. He needs his mommy. And…" he took a deep breath, "I need you," Steve tried not to think about anyone else in the lobby. He could only focus on her, "I love you, Catherine. I need you in my life, I need you whole and happy and strong."

"What a load of crap," Lawson scoffed, "He can live without you. He did for almost a year. He left you to me. He couldn't find you. Maybe he never even looked for you," the man spat his accusations, "Family is fleeting, child. They will leave you eventually, no matter how much you control them, no matter how you love them. Everyone dies and leaves and you will be left alone again someday. I'm proof of that. But if you kill me I'll be free and so will you. You can finally know what it's like to be on your own."

"This time you should listen to him, Catherine," Steve encouraged, "He's lost. He wants to end it all and he wants to take you down with him by making you kill him. He knows what that'll do to you. He knows if you take his life like this, without him fighting back, he'll have the upper hand even in death. You may not think so right now, but it'll eat away at you slowly, Catherine. Don't let that happen. Please, come back to me now. You found your way home once, you can do it again," he begged, "Please."

Her body relaxed just a little to hear Steve's plea.

The memory of seeing Steve and Evan in the water came to mind, father and son splashing and playing. She remembered meeting John and watching how he and Steve had been a bit quiet around each other at first but slowly opened up, laughter and memories of happier times taking over. Catherine thought about her brother Ben and his sweet baby smile as she'd waved goodbye to him before rushing off to school. She thought about Steve's surprise baby shower on Christmas Day, everyone who'd taken time to talk to her on her level.

Family and friends, she had those things in abundance. They were her support.

"I won't let you take my family from me again," Catherine vowed as she kept her eyes on Lawson, "I won't let you destroy me the way you've destroyed yourself."

"Then you should shoot me," he taunted her once more, "End this for yourself. End it now, child, you have the power. End this!"

Her fingers slipped from the trigger, the gun dropping to her right side. His rising anger only reinforced how lost he was, and how very much she didn't want to end up like him, "I intend to end this, but not the way you want," she spoke with an exhale of breath before turning to Steve. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him.

Steve pressed a hand against her back. "It's okay," he assured her. He reached for his gun, head shaking as he took it from her, "You've got nothing to be sorry for," Steve let her know, securing the weapon at his hip before he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her, his body shielding her from Lawson's view as much as possible. He silently motioned for Danny and the other guards to deal with Lawson.

"Interrogation?" Danny guessed.

A quick nod was given by Steve as he walked Catherine over to the stairs, still clinging to her. Danny lead Lawson away as the other guards escorted them. Catherine leaned against Steve and held the railing with one hand, catching her breath, not realizing how winded she'd become from the adrenaline surging through her body, "How you doing?" Steve asked, brushing hair behind one of her ears and resting his palm against the back of her neck.

"Ask me again in a few minutes," she sighed.

Chin came down the stairs and stopped beside them, "Everyone all right?" he asked.

Steve nodded, "Well enough. What's going on?"

"Where's Evan?" Catherine questioned before Chin could answer Steve, "You should be upstairs with him," her body tensed again, "What if Lawson has someone inside the building right now? He might have men crawling all over this place. I'm guessing he only walked in here as a distraction."

"Evan is fine," Chin assured her, "Kono's got him locked up in HQ with her right now, and he's still asleep. HPD has the building secure. I checked surveillance cameras and couldn't spot any of his men. But I did see who left him at our doorstep. Caught a very clear image of An on the front door camera. She cuffed Lawson and pushed him through the door. I watched her flee on foot after that. Kono and I haven't been able to pick her up on any other traffic cameras or surveillance videos yet."

"Does this make any sense?" Steve wasn't sure what to think about the woman's actions. "Why'd she bring him here if they've been working together?"

Catherine took a deep breath, "She's not, can't be," her faith in the woman somewhat renewed, "Except if she's the one who shot Billy and maybe set off that gas to help Lawson get away from his house the other day…" she sighed, shrugging, still at a loss to explain it all.

"Well, I'm about to get some answers," Steve declared, looking to Chin, "Danny and I are going to talk to Lawson. I want you to take Catherine upstairs with you and…"

"No," she immediately protested, eyeing Steve, "I'm going downstairs with you," Catherine declared.

His brow instantly furrowed, "I think that's a bad idea."

"I'm sure you do, but I'm going to talk to him anyway," she declared.

Chin did his best to steer clear of the spat, "I'll go see if Kono's found anything more on An."

She faced the police Lieutenant with a serious look, "Chin, please promise me you won't let Evan out of your sight for any reason?"

He nodded, "You have my word."

When Chin was half way up the stairs Steve sighed, "Cath, I know what Lawson did to you and I know you want answers but he very nearly got to you just now," he began his protest again, hoping to appeal to her, "It was tearing me up inside to hear him talk to you like that, to see how he… how he was trying to push you over the edge with him."

"But he didn't," she disputed, "Because you were there for me. Your words weigh heavier than his any second of the day. You'll be down there with me."

With reservations still firmly in place, Steve gave in and walked her to the elevator with one hand at the small of her back.

Danny was standing guard outside the interrogation room when they showed up, "He's gone very quiet," the detective said as they huddled outside the door. "Not sure what he's playing at with any of this but it's got me jumpy," his eyes slid to Catherine and he wore a smile for her, "How you holding up?"

"Okay," she gave a brief nod that she knew wasn't entirely convincing.

Steve looked to his partner, "Why don't you head back up to HQ, make sure everything's secure up there. Chin says he's got HPD securing the building but I don't trust Lawson and I'm worried about what he's got planned." He wasn't entirely sure the man had a plan other than a death wish, but he wanted all bases covered.

"You sure about the two of you…" Danny was concerned for his friends.

"We'll be fine, thanks," Steve nodded.

A few seconds after Danny disappeared down the hallway they were still outside the interrogation room. Steve stood in front of Catherine, his hands grasping hers, fingers caressing the spot on her left hand where her ring finger once resided. Her eyes were focused on the door and no doubt the man seated just beyond it. She squeezed Steve's hands, lips almost disappearing into the flat expression on her face, "When I held that gun to his head, do you know what I saw?" her question was barely above a whisper.

"No," he felt his heart constrict again, worry and love pounding nervously in his chest.

Her gaze left the door and settled on Steve, "I saw my father and you, I saw Billy and myself… everyone I know who's served. We all could've ended up like Lawson. All of us saw and did things during our time in the military that haunt us. Only difference is, Lawson succumbed. I realized now any of us could've just as easily. So what made the difference for us?"

Steve shrugged, "Not sure," he breathed out, "Better support system, heightened awareness of PTSD, stronger character, maybe we didn't endure as much…" Steve trailed off, knowing none of those answers helped much when it came to dealing with Lawson's fractured behavior, "You don't have to go in there, Catherine. I can handle this."

"I know you can, and you're right that I don't have to go in there. I need to go in there," she insisted.

One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, cupping the star tattoo that he knew was there. His lips brushed gently and reassuringly over hers. Steve stepped back, opened the door and steeled himself against the man inside. Catherine followed behind Steve, the door clanging shut on them. Then it was just the three of them in the small, slightly sweltering room. The blue gleam of vertical florescent lights hit Lawson diagonally, casting half of his face into light, the other half into shadow.

"Hello, child," Lawson greeted her, his eyes focused only on Catherine.

Those two words alone told Steve she'd been right to insist on talking to the man. As much as he wanted to strangle the truth out of Nick Lawson, Steve had a feeling the man wouldn't speak to him without Catherine present. All the wishing in the world couldn't change the ugly truth of the matter, which was that Catherine held a connection to Lawson that would most likely be beneficial to them. And it extended past his forced incarceration of her on the ship.

It was much more deeply personal because of the way he'd comforted her as a child after her brother's death.

"Why did An turn you in to us? Why'd she abandon you here?" Catherine focused on that for the moment, not able to dig deeper just yet.

"All part of our plan," he smiled.

"You don't have any sort of plan with her, do you?" Catherine guessed.

His smug attitude faltered a little, "We may've hit a glitch. What is that infuriating quality you possess that makes people want to be so good around you?" Lawson wondered, "I remember that afternoon when you came home from school and discovered your baby brother was dead. I felt it then. You made me want to comfort you. I held you on my knee. I rarely ever held my own children that closely."

"What did you do to An, train her?" Catherine ignored his comments about the day Ben had died, "How does the daughter of two pacifist teachers learn to fire a rifle with enough precision to shoot a man through a second-story window from across the street?" she pondered.

He sat there for a moment, quietly debating how to proceed, looking back and forth between Steve and Catherine, "An is borderline genius, and she's tougher than I gave her credit for," he decided to answer, "She learned quickly. She's certainly got the Wo family blood in her."

"No, An is a good person," she protested, "An helped me on that ship."

"An wasn't helping you, child," his brows arched in indignation, "She was only ever trying to help herself. An wants to find her parents, but the truth is she's never going to find them. I already told her all this. When they found out where she actually came from, that she was the child of a slave trader, they gave up on her. Her parents fled the country. If you think about it, I was the closest thing to family Wo Fat had for years until he found out about An. Now, in a way, she and I are the closet family each other has. Life is funny like that, isn't it?"

"No," Catherine felt sick to her stomach listening to him, "Your twisted view of life isn't funny. What did you do to her?"

"I rescued her," he said with the same sort of pride a father might exude, "After Wo Fat got the information about An from your mother," he looked to Steve again, "He charged me with the special task of finding An and bringing her into our family. I didn't locate her until Wo Fat had been captured by you and falsely imprisoned. We had a good deal of time alone before Wo Fat was able to rejoin our family. An was a sweet, quiet, beautiful women when we first met, but she wasn't very happy. She had lovely parents, but she desired more from life. She was curious about where she'd come from, always had been."

Steve stepped forward, "That seems like a perfectly normal curiosity," he agreed, "But you and Wo Fat were happy to prey on that desire, weren't you? What'd you do, promise her some ridiculous version of a family with Wo Fat and yourself?"

"I only ever told An the truth," Lawson maintained his air of being helpful to her, "When I explained that her mother had been unjustly murdered for getting involved with the wrong sort of people, those in the CIA… specifically, putting her trust in one operative by the name of Shelburne," Lawson once again leveled his gaze on Steve, "An finally began to see the light, so to speak. She became a willing soldier for the cause."

"You're crazy," Steve couldn't hold his anger back, "You twisted the truth. Doris was Li Jia's friend. She was helping her."

"Everyone has their own view of the truth," Lawson shrugged. "I never hurt An. I only gave her answers, a family and love, unconditional love."

"So forcing her to shoot the man she was engaged to… that was love?" Catherine demanded, thinking about Billy. Lawson remained silent, staring up at her, seemingly as relaxed as if he were about to settle down for a nap, "You know what I believe? An was never a willing soldier, you conditioned her," Catherine guessed, "You tortured her, took her parents from her… then you turned her into the torturer, making her create that collar technology that I wore. But she was only pretending to help you, because she helped me trick Wo Fat."

Lawson's expression continued to be smug, though he didn't reply.

Steve was worried they'd already lost their window of opportunity, "Those pictures and the notes that were sent to me several times, the ones about Catherine, the ones that threatened her life - did you write those notes or did An?"

"It must have been An who sent you notes," the former Navy Master at Arms spoke again, "I was never aware of any such thing," he claimed.

Every ounce of restraint Steve could summon wasn't enough as he violently kicked the front of the chair Lawson was cuffed to. It didn't budge, of course, bolted to the floor. And his actions didn't even cause Nick Lawson to flinch. That scared Steve more than anything, "So the part about how you'd been close enough to slit her throat, that was An?"

"An was dating that other useless Navy SEAL, what was his name…" Lawson put on a show of pretending to forget, "Brett or Bryce, no, no… I don't think that's it…"

Catherine crouched down in front of his chair, "His name was Billy Harrington, and he was one of my best friends. You ordered her to kill Steve and Billy got in the way."

"This all sounds like a very well put together plan," Lawson nodded, "As I already told you, An is smart beyond most normal people's grasp. So she sent these notes and attempted to kill Steve. Clearly she must've meant she'd been close to you due to her relationship with Billy, you two worked together," he concluded, "Actually I'm quite impressed, couldn't have planned any of that better myself to be honest," he concluded.

"And the thing my family took from you that you wanted to get back?" Steve was fuming, not impressed by the man's acting abilities, "Were you talking about Matthew? Your son? Is that what you wanted from us, a child? Evan, our son?"

The older man smiled, "I really don't know what you're referring to now. Was this another note An sent you? Maybe she meant something your family took from hers, her father perhaps, or her mother?" Lawson shrugged, "I never realized just how good a plan An had devised. It sounds like she really had you on edge."

"You're good, too, but I'm not buying this act of yours," Steve was still trying to trip the man up, "All of this, it's just been a frantic attempt for you to try and screw up other people's lives as much as yours has been screwed up. You know I actually feel sorry for you. I wish you and my father, and so many other men… I wish none of you would've had to endure the things that happened during the Vietnam War. It must've been…"

"You have no idea what happened there," Lawson growled.

Steve let go a breath, grateful for the outburst, "Tell me," he tried to get the man talking again.

"No," was the only response given, his aged face creasing into frown lines.

"What have you got to lose?" Steve asked, "You're never getting out of here, or out of whatever prison you eventually end up in. But you can lighten your load a little if you'd just talk about it. You think I don't get what it's like to be in combat? I know, okay. I've kept a lot of crap holed up inside me for years, friends I had to leave behind and watch die because of the greater cause of the war," Steve let his emotions out, thinking it might spurn Lawson to do the same.

"You're wrong. I won't be jailed for anything," the man stiffened his posture again, staring at the blank wall over Steve's shoulders. "You have no real evidence to link me to anything. What do you have? Tell me you have something of importance," Lawson taunted, "You don't."

"We have me," Catherine spoke again.

"Your word against my word," Nick shrugged as he smiled at her. "That's not enough to convict me of any crime, child."

Worry immediately seeped into her head, creating doubt, wondering if he was right. It caused her to latch onto the least important detail of all, "Why nuts?" she asked.

That question seemed to throw Lawson, "Huh?"

Steve was also at a loss, staring at her with renewed concern.

"The nuts you always left for me with every meal," Catherine felt her memories drift back to the Kappa again, all of it seeming so close, yet like a dream she'd had ages ago, "Why did you leave me nuts? Did you have to ruin that memory for me as well?"

Lawson shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Walnuts, peanuts, cashews, almonds!" she hurled each word at him in rapid fire. Catherine leaned forward. Her hands gripped his forearms, fingernails digging into his flesh. "Were you there that night when Steve and I first met? Did you watch us dance? Have you been following me around and stalking me since I was a seven-year-old girl? Have you been plotting this the whole time? Or maybe you knew about how pregnant women are advised not to eat nuts. Is that why?"

"Catherine," Steve stood behind her, trying to get her to take a step back, trying to pry her hands off Lawson. Now he could see allowing her into the room with him had been a mistake. Her claim that Lawson wouldn't be able to get to her had been wishful thinking on both their parts. He should've known there was no way she could come back a prisoner of war without battle scars. And facing off with the man who'd created most of those scars was taking its final toll on her.

"I want to know…" she fought against Steve's insistence to back down, staring Lawson in the eye.

The man she'd once called Uncle Nick stared equally into her eyes, "I told the guards not to bother you too much. I knew you'd be angry and combative. I didn't want you to attack them or try to talk to them either, try to befriend them. So I instructed them to bring you something with every meal that could be a snack saved for later. I hoped they wouldn't make so many trips into your cabin if they left extra food for you. But I never told them specifically to leave nuts."

"Then why?" her words were desperate as she clung to him, nails digging in deeper, Steve tugging at her from behind, "Why did you do all of this to me?"

"Cath, please," Steve again tried to rein her in. He snaked an arm around her stomach. Seeing her so upset and feeling like there was nothing he could do to stop her pain, it was almost worse than being apart from her all those months. He'd gotten her to drop the gun from Lawson's head, but now he feared he wouldn't be able to talk her down again. He wished there was something he could say other than, "Come on, walk away from this for now."

She broke free of his grip, "No," Catherine remained in front of Lawson, "I want an answer. I want to know why. I'm waiting… I'll wait for as long as it takes." Nick Lawson continued to stare back but didn't utter a word. "Talk to me, say something!" she shouted with months' worth of pent up frustration spilling out, "Don't just sit there like an idiot. I know you're not an idiot, you planned all this, turned your suffering into… I don't even know what you turned it into. Was it worth it?"

"He's not going to answer you, Cath," Steve whispered in her ear as he held her by the waist again and drew her toward the door. "He's done."

Her muscles tightened with anger, her fingers twitched with doubt as she let his words sink in. Catherine faced Steve, wishing he could talk her down again the way he had a few minutes ago in the Palace lobby. "Tell me we have something, tell me…" she bit her lip, taking a step backwards and reaching behind herself for the door handle.

"Catherine, wait…" Steve went after her, catching her arm as she walked through the open doorway, stopping her from taking off down the hall. He closed the door, not wanting to give Lawson any kind of satisfaction from overhearing their conversation. His right hand reached for her left, but she pulled away. "He's not walking away from this," Steve said.

"You heard him," her voice was raw from spewing her emotions at Lawson, "He's right. We have my word against his, but nothing concrete. The Kappa exploded, it was completely destroyed. There's no video, no fingerprints, and no documentation of what went on other than my journal which I kept non-specific on purpose. And even if there had been anything incriminating it still would've been my word against his written in crayon… crayon," she repeated the word as if that fact was the most pathetic part.

"He told you about the nuts," Steve tried to offer some comfort, "He gave you that much and we have him recorded in there, which proves you were held captive in his own words."

"Why don't you tell me the truth, Steve," Catherine implored, "Because we both know he just did that to make himself look completely insane," she countered, seeing it was true in Steve's eyes, "He gave us something small, the nuts, bits and pieces about An - but he denies everything else. He contradicts his story and makes himself appear unstable."

Steve knew she was right as much as he didn't want to admit it, "So he gives a temporary insanity or insanity plea. He'll still do time and…"

Her head shook, "If there's even the slightest chance he gets free, I…" Catherine stepped away from him, "Try again," she waved a hand at the door, "Try until he talks, but I just…"

He was torn as he watched her walk away, her shoulders slumped and hands balled into fists at her sides. He wanted to run after her, but he also wanted to see if he could get more out of Lawson. Steve took a deep breath before he entered the room again. Lawson was staring at the wall again, seemingly unperturbed by anything that had just happened. Steve walked forward and stood in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. "I understand what you're feeling. I know you think I don't, but I do," Steve offered.

Lawson remained unmoved.

"I've been to war. I've seen and done things that still give me nightmares," Steve repeated himself to the man.

Still there was no response.

"You think I didn't break down when you made us all believe Catherine was dead, but you're wrong," he tried a different tactic. His breathing sped up as he remembered searching the crash site for any sign of Catherine, "I was broken," Steve admitted, "Is that what you wanna hear? Does that make you feel accomplished somehow?"

There was a very slight shrug from Lawson.

"What you did was worse than thinking Catherine was dead," Steve saw a small opening, "You caused doubt to fill my head, and that doubt, that not knowing for certain if she was alive or dead… it was so much worse than concrete proof of her death. You've done what you set out to do; you kept us apart, kept me from my son. You've caused me pain, Lawson, don't ever doubt that," he growled. "You took the first months of my son's life from me, time I can never get back. That will always be an ache in my heart."

The older man's gaze dipped to the floor.

"What I don't understand is how you could do it?" Steve asked.

Again there was no verbal reply from the cuffed man.

"How could you, as a husband and father who understands the depth of that kind of loss," Steve tried to wrap his head around it, but couldn't. "How could you turn around and do the same thing to someone else? I just… I don't get that. Unless you have absolutely no feeling left, which I don't believe."

Lawson's jaw tightened as his eyes darted around the barren room.

Steve stooped down, his face level with Lawson's, "I don't hate you, Nick," he declared, "That's not to say I wouldn't hesitate to kill you if you provoked me or Catherine again. But I don't think I actually hate you. I've wanted to hate you. I thought for a while I did hate you. But hate is…" he couldn't find the right words to finish that thought. "Maybe that pisses you off even more. I know it pisses me off. I know I should hate you outright, but I just feel sorry for you."

They were both silent for a moment.

"And I know if my father was here," Steve took great difficulty in speaking his next words, "I know without a doubt that he would apologize to you for his part in your son's and wife's accident, because that's the kind of man he was," Steve nodded with confidence, actually hearing his father's voice in his head, "In his absence, I'd just like to tell you how sorry I am that you had to lose your family the way you did. I want to apologize, because that's the kind of man I want to be, and the type of man I want to raise my son to be."

He leaned forward to whisper in the man's ear, "But be assured, there's no way I'm ever going to let you see daylight again," Steve vowed.

It was clear from the blank look on Lawson's face that he was beyond reaching. Steve left him alone in the room and headed back up to HQ. He could hear Evan crying as soon as he entered the command station. Chin was holding the baby a bit awkwardly in his arms. Evan fussed and twisted, his head burrowed somewhere between Chin's chest and armpit. "Thank goodness," the police officer looked to be at his wits end. "I'm pretty sure he's hungry because I think he's looking for…" Chin glanced down at his chest.

Kono laughed, standing a few feet away and leaning against the computer table, "I think my cousin means to say breasts," she concluded with an amused grin.

"Give him here," Steve reached for his son and held Evan against his shoulder. "Are you hungry, champ?" he asked, rubbing the boy's back and kissing his cheek. Evan grew calmer almost instantly, but he was still fussy as Steve turned back to his team, "Where's Catherine?"

Chin looked worried, "She went downstairs with you to talk to Lawson."

"Yeah, I know that," he nodded, "But she left the room several minutes ago," Steve was alarmed, "Lawson got to her and she couldn't…" he glanced around the offices, only seeing Danny inside his. "She didn't come back up here?"

"Haven't seen her, boss," Kono pushed away from the table. "If she was upset maybe she went to the restroom. I'll go check for you," she offered before heading out.

Hoping that was as far as she'd gone, Steve pointed to the diaper bag on the floor by Evan's car seat, "Chin, there should be a bottle in there, can you grab it for me?"

"Should we warm it?" Chin wondered as he found the bottle, still uncertain when it came to babies.

Steve felt the bottle as Chin handed it off to him, "Room temperature is fine," he said, pulling the cap off and settling Evan in the crook of his left arm. The boy eagerly latched on, getting more used to bottle feeding, though Steve knew he preferred his mommy. Steve smiled to see the boy so content, "Lawson didn't tell us much. He did mention An's parents leaving the country. Although, I think he might be lying about that."

"Maybe not exactly," Chin went to the computer and tapped several commands, "We got a hit on the image from San Diego while you and Catherine were down with Lawson. The driver has been identified as Arturo Alves, brother of Fernando Alves who, if you recall, was the man who attacked the ambassador in Russia and stabbed Catherine in the shoulder."

"Part of the BSWR," Steve remembered, "Arturo is one of the Brazilian Soy Workers Rights extremists, Fernando wasn't."

"I think the whole worker's rights group has probably been a cover-up for Lawson's dealings," Chin replied. "Danny's in contact with Agent Vichy right now, letting him know to be on the lookout for any of the BSWR, specifically Arturo."

"Good," Steve nodded, "I really wish Vichy could get eyes inside that compound and figure out what's really going on there," he looked down at Evan for a moment, the baby still contently downing his meal and seemingly oblivious to what they were talking about, "We've got Lawson, but we need something more. We need something that will pin all this on him."

Kono rushed through the door, "She wasn't in the main restroom so I even checked the basement locker rooms - I can't find her anywhere."

Chin could see the worry etched across Steve's face so he immediately pulled up Palace security videos and scoured the last twenty or so minutes of footage. "Here," it didn't take him long to find Catherine, "Looks like she exited through the east door about fifteen minutes ago and," he scanned exterior cameras until he zoomed in on Steve's Silverado. They all watched on the main monitor as Catherine got into the truck and drove off.

Steve reached into his right pants pocket, "Unbelievable," he shook his head realizing she'd swiped his keys, "She should've been a professional pick-pocket."

"Vichy's team got the slip," Danny announced as he joined the group.

"Not the only ones," Steve mumbled, still thinking about Catherine taking off without telling him. "What about Vichy and his team?" he tried to refocus.

"Apparently they followed a black van from the soybean farm compound, or whatever you call it," Danny shrugged, "Figured it was a lead, but turned into a dead end. By the time they got back to the compound all the workers were gone, vanished. They checked out the interior and there was nothing. He says that puts them back to square one."

As he looked down at the baby in his arms, Steve smiled to see Evan grin around the bottle's nipple, "Danny, I need your car keys," he held the baby to his friend, "Trade you."

"You want me to track your truck's GPS?" Chin offered.

Steve waited a moment as Danny pulled his keys out and sat them on the table. Then he handed Evan over, gently slipping him into the detective's arms. "No, thanks, I'm pretty sure I know where she's headed," he pressed his palm against Evan's forehead, "Be good for your uncle Danny," Steve said as he grabbed the keys and looked to Danny.

"Get out of here, we got this covered," Danny nodded, cradling the baby protectively as he smiled at the boy.

"He might need a clean diaper after he eats," Steve said as he moved toward the door, "And if he falls asleep again you can just put him in the car seat and…"

"I've done this before, Steven," Danny chuckled, "He'll be fine. Chin will teach him all about the computer system and Kono's got a shooting range lesson lined up for him after his next nap. Evan will be ready to join the team by the time you two get back, not to worry."

With a shake of his head, Steve finally left Evan behind.

Not much more than ten minutes later he pulled Danny's black Camaro alongside his Silverado.

The wind kicked up across the water as he exited the car and walked toward her.

He remembered the last time he'd found her along the same stretch of rocky shoreline, shortly after they'd argued about her keeping Doris' secret. That time she'd been standing, back straight, worried yet full of faith in their relationship despite him having told her to leave. Now she looked so tiny to him, seated and practically curled into a ball. Forehead resting against her jean-clad knees, arms wrapped around her legs. "Can I join you?"

"How do you always know how to find me?" she turned to face him, nodding.

When he sat down beside her he could see her eyes were red from crying.

Steve pushed a bit of brown hair behind her ear and let his hand rest against her shoulder, "I know you," he said as the water lapped against dark, jagged rocks a few feet from where they were seated, "I know your favorite spot on this island is a stretch of ironwood tree lined beach along Waimanalo Bay with a great view of Manana Island on a clear day. And I know this rocky shoreline on Sand Island is where you come when something's bothering you, when you're worried or just need time to think."

She smiled as another tear rolled down her cheek, "You do know me."

His breath hitched for a moment, "I don't always know how to find you, though," Steve gulped, "Lawson was right, I couldn't find you when you needed me most, Catherine."

Her head rested against his shoulder. Catherine wondered how much longer the two of them were going to blame themselves for things they couldn't control. "He's locked up," she whispered, "Why won't he just tell me the truth? Why won't he give me an answer?"

"Cath," Steve shook his head, arm squeezing her shoulder tighter, "I don't think he's ever going to tell you why, at least not an answer that'll make sense of any of it."

Catherine closed her eyes and exhaled sharply, "I spent so much time on that ship looking over my shoulder, trying to be alert at all times. I was afraid," she admitted, "But not afraid of Lawson or Wo Fat so much. I was afraid of what would happen if I came back here, if I returned home. Afraid that if I did get my old life back it would never be the same," she finally revealed some of her fear to him as Chin had encouraged.

Steve sensed she had more to say.

She took another deep breath, trying to get it all out, "When I walked into the house that first night with you and with Evan in my arms, everything was the same. All the things were the same, the furniture and the dishes and all my clothes," Catherine sighed, "It wasn't until I stood in the closet tossing my dresses into a cardboard box that I finally realized it was me who was different. I'd changed. And I hate him for that, too. For making it so hard to actually be home. It just makes me want to scream," she whispered.

"Then scream," Steve sat up straighter, facing her. He shrugged, "Who's going to hear you out here? And what if someone does? Scream if it'll help," he offered.

Her mouth hung open for a long time, but no sound emitted.

"Catherine?" he grew worried when she didn't even seem to be breathing, "Hey," Steve drew her close again, holding on to her.

Her body shook, breaths coming in gasps for a moment as she clung to him.

That reaction felt worse to him than a scream, "It won't be the same," Steve whispered. That's just about the only thing I can promise you right now. Nothing will ever be like it was. I can't change that for you, I wish I could. I wish, I wish," he echoed her story. "But it is going to be all right. Different doesn't have to be a bad thing. We can move on, together. We still have each other. We have Evan. He and I want you to be happy, and we hope we make you happy."

"You do, Steve, so much," she assured, "I'm sorry if what I just said or my actions lately, I'm sorry if any of it has made you feel like I don't love or need you. You mean everything to me, I hope you know that."

"And you mean everything to me. So the rest of it," he shrugged, "We'll just figure it out as we go. As long as you know I'm here for you. You don't have to run off when you want to break down. And don't hold it all in like you've been doing. I'm pretty sure that's what gives people cancer and ulcers, and I really don't want to lose you again."

Catherine nodded, a small closed-mouth smile revealing she was going to be okay.

000

"You do this often?" Steve asked.

He very nearly had his knees in his ears as he sat in the cramped backseat of the jeep. Catherine sat in the front passenger seat while a female Air Force pilot, Captain Amy Davis, drove them. Both women wore scarves to cover their hair and necks, as well as their combat helmets required off base. They traveled along an unmarked road north of the base and were headed pretty much due west. The area around the Hindu Kush foothills was spotted by short, scrubby vegetation and a few sparse grape and melon crops.

"Once a week if I can manage it," Catherine spoke to him over her left shoulder. "My mom always tells me that a person should relax equally as much as they work. Kinda of tricky to manage out here, but I do what I can. Colonel Kaube is Air Force, meaning I'm technically the senior Navy officer here. Well, until you showed up," she noted, "I still have to obey his chain of command, but if I tell him the satellite dish needs repair parts he lets me go into the villages. It's surprising how many things these towns have out here, mostly parts from vehicles, but also plenty of salvaged technology."

Steve watched as their road gave way to a sizable town, buildings made mostly from densely packed earthen blocks which gave the place a nearly uniform tan hue dotted by some greenery. "But leaving base is dangerous, there are landmines and a whole array of other hazards," he said as their driver took a right turn into town.

"A warzone that's dangerous?" she shot back at him with generous mockery, "I wear my helmet whenever I'm off base, and my reflector belt if I'm outside after dark so the airplanes won't hit me. I carry my weapon at all times, and I actually know how to fire it," she rolled her eyes, "I never took you for the 'little lady should stay at home where she belongs' type."

He laughed, "I'm usually not. But you're right, I went a little John Wayne on you and I'm sorry. You can obviously take care of yourself. It's just strange, the difference between knowing you're in the Navy and actually seeing you here in your element. I promise you I don't want to be like the Colonel Kaube's of the world."

"Ah, so he told you about his dislike of women in the military," her words were not a question.

"Not a well-kept secret?" Steve gathered from the tone of her voice.

"No," it was the Air Force Captain who replied from her driver's seat as she turned left, "I fly a jet, even got shot down over the Persian Gulf a year ago and lived to tell about it, but he still puts male pilots in the roaster more often than me."

Steve and Catherine both wore serious faces. "That's completely against regulation," he tried to commiserate.

"That's the military," Catherine shrugged, "Hell, that's the world still in a lot of ways. But I hate feminine extremist types. I do a job, I do it well, and I don't really care what anyone else thinks. Okay, I do on some level, but mostly I try to be happy with what I do."

"And you should be," he agreed as the jeep slowed and pulled to a stop along a dusty dirt track. Steve maneuvered out of the jeep and took up stride beside Catherine as she guided him along the street, "You know I've worked Intel off and on but never seen anyone with your level of commitment. It can be a thankless job, yet probably the most important military position. Without it we'd just be a bunch of buffoons blindly making our way through a desert or jungle."

Catherine smiled, "I don't think you're much of a buffoon, at least not when it comes to your job," she pointed to a small structure with a hand printed sign that read: Baaz, "My favorite local eatery is open and I haven't had a good meal in a while. How about you?"

"I could eat," Steve agreed, glad that a week's time had mostly mellowed her prickly disposition.

She led him inside the small establishment. The interior was cool, dimly lit, and not at all busy. They were immediately greeted by a man in a light gray woven tunic that hung down past his knees, dark slacks and black shoes without socks. His black-coffee eyes were alight with welcome, "Salaam alaikum," the man greeted her.

"Wa'alaikum salaam, Fahran," Catherine replied with a demur smile, eyes searching the small dining area, "Bahnam?"

The man nodded and turned his gaze toward a stairway at the back of the room, "Bahnam!" he called out. A few moments later a young boy came rushing down the stairs, his dark hair and eyes a reflection of his father. The boy wore a similar outfit as Fahran and smiled unabashedly, much more carefree than his father's reserved nature. He collided with Catherine, wrapping his arms about her waist and looking up at her with something between wonderment and admiration.

"Salaam, Bahnam," Catherine squatted to the boy's level. She raised her brows, "What do you think I have for you this time?"

His lips curled into a deeper grin as he pointed toward her right side, "For drawing?" he guessed, his English very well spoken.

Catherine didn't make him wait any longer, reaching into the right-side cargo pocket and pulling out a sharpened pencil. "For drawing," she confirmed while handing it over.

Steve thought the little boy looked as if she'd just given him a million dollars. He held the pencil carefully with both hands as he turned around to show it to his father. Fahran nodded curtly and motioned toward a table at the back of the room beneath the stairs. The boy took off, but stopped and came back. He clutched his pencil protectively and looked to Catherine with a grateful smile, "Tashakur," his delicate voice said before he scurried off to the table his father had directed him toward earlier.

She stood and caught Steve eying her, "He loves to draw."

"That was very sweet of you," Steve had never seen her with any child before, wasn't even sure she liked them. But witnessing that simple exchange between her and the boy made him realize there were many things he still didn't know about her.

A hand was waved at Steve as Catherine spoke to Fahran again, "Mitra, Steve."

"Salaam," Fahran welcomed him as well. But his eyes returned to Catherine, "Chi mekhori?"

Catherine looked to Steve again, "Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely," he replied.

"Qorma Alou-Bokhara wa Dalnakhod?" she asked the proprietor and was glad to see him nod, knowing he didn't keep any sort of set menu, "Enough for…" Catherine held two fingers up just to be sure she got it right, "Doo, lutfan?" Fahran nodded again before hurrying off toward the kitchen. Catherine pointed toward a table near the large window up front, "We can pick any spot," she directed Steve to sit.

"Your Dari is pretty good," Steve praised.

"If you don't speak at least a little Dari and Pashto out here you won't get far with the locals," Catherine removed her helmet but left the scarf covering her, "Most of them know a lot of English but are reluctant to let on unless you show some effort to understand where they're coming from. Many, like Fahran, are willing to meet you half way."

He nodded; continually impressed by the way she carried herself confidently. "Still not as good as your Chinese, though," he grinned.

Bahnam brought them over a bowl and sat it down before he spotted the pilot, Amy, enter the establishment. Steve and Catherine watched as Bahnam rushed to the woman and excitedly began to chat with her in English. "Amy is one of Bahnam's favorite people," Catherine smiled as she saw the boy drag the pilot toward his art table. The child had only a few small bits of paper, most of them already drawn on multiple times. "Remind me to bring him a notepad the next time."

Steve nodded, "Where is Bahnam's mother?" he wondered as he spied what was in the bowl the boy had brought them.

"Died when he was born," Catherine glanced over her shoulder to be sure Fahran was not nearby. "Fahran told me, but he didn't say much about it. He's a very private person."

He tried to think of a way to transition out of the dead mother topic, "Bahnam must know you like nuts," he grabbed one of the pistachios from the bowl and carefully worked it out of its shell. Steve handed it to her, "That's one variety you didn't have at the military ball."

Catherine took his offering with a reminiscent smile, biting into the greenish nut. Thankfully she was saved from overthinking his gesture by the arrival of their main meal.

Fahran brought two large bowls of stew for them and a plate stacked with several pieces of nan.

"Tashakur," they both thanked Fahran before he left them to their meal, "So does this qualify as us having dinner?" Steve asked when the man had gone. He looked down at the food appreciatively. The mixture of onions, plums, lentils and chicken in a creamy golden sauce was making his mouth water. But it was Catherine's presence that had him relaxing in a manner that only she managed to bring out.

"Umm, its early afternoon and we're on assignment," her head shook, but a small smile flashed his way. "I think that's called a working lunch. So, how are… things?" she tried to make small talk as she took a bite. They'd never really done a lot of talking. They had their moments here and there, but typically their time together usually rolled into sex and saying goodbye before they ever got much of a chance to say hello. And the whole past week had been spent working diligently.

"Can't tell you much about work," Steve answered, "At least the parts you don't already know about."

"Right, classified," she acknowledged, "How about Freddie and Kelly, you seen them lately? Are they even still together?"

"Last I heard, yes," he chuckled, "But with those two that could change by the minute."

A nod was given, Catherine having experienced the couple's ups and downs during just a weekend long trip, "But they're both doing well?"

"Yeah, Freddie was State-side last I heard, special training. That was over five months ago, though. Time out here seems to slip away," he realized.

She took another bite and savored the strong cardamom flavor which was tempered slightly by bits of sour plums, "How're your dad and sister?"

"Mary had a birthday two months ago," he mentioned, "My little sister doesn't seem so little anymore. Not sure when she grew up, but I think I missed it."

Catherine could tell he was missing home all together, not just his father or sister. His eyes always turned hazy when he was reminiscent, looking more gray than blue. He'd told her about home on more than one occasion over the years, but it usually involved a lot of talk about beaches and his high school football field rather than his dad or sister, and rarely ever his mother, "Did you send her a card or gift?"

"No," his answer was short.

"Called her, though?" she guessed.

His head shook, "I was in the field. I couldn't call her."

"Yeah, of course," Catherine remembered, "But you've been at Bagram for a week now. You get the same two morale calls a week as everyone else, base rules."

"I also have my own satellite phone," he mumbled around a bite of food.

"Then why haven't you…" she shrugged, not sure what was bothering him.

"Mary doesn't want to hear from me," Steve ripped off a chunk of nan and dunked it into his bowl, "This is the best Qorma I've had. I might even have to give it higher marks than my all-time favorite beef stew MRE," he smiled with his mouth closed, still chewing slowly to savor the flavors, "Although that baked ziti thing your mom made when I visited you in New York, that's up there in my top five favorite meals. Not as good as your grandma's ragu recipe you made me last year, but…" he looked up at her, "Was that just a year ago?"

"It was," she answered.

"Then technically we have had dinner, a couple times."

"Meals with parents or that I've cooked don't count as going out to dinner," she responded, "You're pretty good, though," Catherine sighed as she took another bite.

"At a lot of things, yes," he winked.

"At not talking about your family," she countered.

He swallowed and stared at his food for a moment, "Last time I saw Mary was years ago and she told me she didn't want to see me again, that she hated me for allowing dad to send her off to Aunt Deb's in California. So… there you go, she doesn't want to hear from me."

"That was a really long time ago, Steve. Maybe you should try harder," she lightly suggested, "Your sister is the only family you'll have left when your dad's gone someday."

"This from an only child with both parents still living," he shot back. The disapproving look in her eyes caused him to feel awful, and he really didn't want to end up in an argument with her, "My mom favored me, and Mary was daddy's little girl. When mom died and dad sent her away, Mary… she's not the same, and why should she be. Our family got hacked up into little pieces and," Steve sighed, clutching his nan, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She dared to say, "Can I at least ask about John?"

Steve smiled a little, "He's good, keeps busy with work and that crazy old car. Still talks about meeting you in California last year. I know that was last year."

"We managed to see each other a lot last year," Catherine nodded, "John was really sweet to me," she recalled, "After lunch when we were showing him around the Coronado boardwalk and you disappeared for a while… I think that's when you went to get those chocolate covered almonds for us," that memory lifted her spirits, "Your dad and I were alone for a few minutes and he told me how you needed a woman like me in your life."

"Beautiful?"

That compliment caused her to smile, which only served to confuse her more, "No, someone who wouldn't take any shit from you."

"Dad did not say that," Steve denied.

"I know what I heard, sailor," she confirmed.

He shifted the conversation again, "Do you really hunt down satellite dish parts here or are you just lying to the Colonel about that?"

"Most of the time it's the whole truth, but…" she turned to see Amy sitting with Bahnam on her lap. The two of them laughed as Bahnam drew something with his new pencil. "Amy is married and has a six year old son, Max, back in the States who she doesn't get to see very often. She likes the excuse to come here and hang out with the local children for a while, especially Bahnam. Usually I do need parts so I'm always looking for spares," Catherine diplomatically put it.

"Uh huh, I had a feeling you were up to no good," he scolded in a not-so-serious manner.

"Please, I suppose you've never done anything slightly against regulation?"

"Never," Steve replied with a grin.

"You're a horrible liar," Catherine lightheartedly accused.

000

Steve found her note stuck to the rail of Evan's portable crib.

The paint they'd picked out for Evan's room had arrived two days ago but they hadn't had time yet to do anything with it. And the crib and changing table weren't due to be delivered until after the New Year. They'd devised a method of morning communication which consisted of leaving each other notes on Evan's plastic crib rail. If one of them woke up before the other they'd leave a message about where they were. The whole system born out of Catherine's day after Christmas panic attack.

He made his way downstairs and out into the backyard.

Trooper greeted him, jogging over and brushing enthusiastically against his left side as she dropped a stick in front of him. Steve gave her a good pat and then hurled the stick across the yard. It landed on the sandy beach beyond the lawn and the Labrador took off after it. Steve smiled as he spotted Catherine kneeling on the grass near the right side yard. Evan was strapped in his car seat with a shade umbrella covering him. He kicked his feet as soon as he heard Steve's voice.

"Whatcha doing out here?" Steve asked, plopping down on the grass next to them and tickling the baby's bare feet.

Morning sunlight drifted across her shoulders as she leaned forward to brush a kiss against his lips, "These side gardens are a mess so I'm pulling some weeds," she responded, going back to the task and plucking a clump of something dry and dead, "Many people around the world call it gardening," Catherine was sure to enunciate each syllable in the last word.

"I know what gardening is, smartass," he retorted.

"Hey, you're gonna corrupt my son," Catherine nodded toward Evan.

The baby had a hold of his left foot and was trying to get it close enough to his mouth so he could slobber on it. Steve grinned when the boy gave up that pursuit in favor of sucking on his much more accessible thumb, "How come he's always your son when you're upset with me, but he's suddenly my son anytime you want me to change his diaper at three in the morning?" he teased, "I just don't think I've ever seen you do anything like gardening before. Is this something you like?"

"It's relaxing," she shrugged.

"Not really an answer to my question," Steve replied. "I'm, uh…" he pointed to the clump of greenery in her hand, "I don't think that's a weed, Catherine. Pretty sure it's a type of ornamental grass," Steve explained, "In fact I remember my mom planting that when I was a kid, and…" he directed her eye toward a tall, spindly shoot of green that had a bright purple bloom at the end of it, "That is a weed that you've been carefully avoiding," he concluded, watching as her eyes widened and a frown formed. "Sorry."

Her shoulders rose, "Didn't say I was a good gardener," she chuckled, sat back and brushed off her dirty hands against her jean shorts.

He was glad she could laugh it off, "I think you need a job, Cath," Steve casually suggested. The reproachful look in her eyes caused him to wince as Evan let out an excitable shriek while once again perusing his foot. Steve smiled at the boy and caught Catherine's eye again, "I'm not saying being a mom isn't a job, that's the most full-time job there is."

"Nice save," she shook her head at him, returning to the gardening task.

"I just know you never wanted that as a job," Steve paused, not sure those were the right words either, "You love Evan like crazy and you wouldn't change having him, but yesterday after everything that happened with Lawson you came home and started stress-baking. I always gain at least five pounds when you stress-bake. And I heard you up again in the middle of the night when I know Evan was asleep. Now you're doing this relax-gardening thing," he motioned toward the purple bloom weeds she's started pulling.

"What would I do?" Catherine asked, "Evan needs me too much right now for…" she shrugged, "Whatever job I might take next."

"How about working with Five-0?" he proposed, "I asked you before you left for Russia and that offer still stands."

She frowned, "You asked because you wanted to keep me safe and close, and I'm afraid that's why you're asking again."

"No, actually I'm asking again because I think you're…" he glanced over at Evan to see the baby had his eyes closed, thumb in his mouth again. Just to be on the safe side, Steve faced Catherine again, "B-a-d-a-s-s," he spelled out. "And I'd be lucky to have someone with your assets on the team," Steve shook his head, "That was probably the wrong word to use. I didn't mean your assets such as," he waved a hand at her chest, "Not that those aren't… never mind."

Catherine loved how flustered he looked, "I know what you meant," she tried to ease his mind, "Steve, I just really don't know what I want right now."

"Okay," he nodded, "That's understandable. If you want to take more time to bake and garden and be mommy, I'm good with that. In fact, it very much feeds the caveman part of me; you woman, stay home with baby; me man, provide for family," Steve grunted. He sat there a moment enjoying the smile on her face as the sun shown against her hair, "I just got very off track. I came out here to ask if I could take you and Evan somewhere today."

"Where," she wondered.

"On a little hike," he was somewhat cryptic, "Kind of a surprise."

Her eyes narrowed at him, not sure if she was ready for another of his surprises, "You want to take Evan hiking?" Catherine asked, "He doesn't even have any boots."

"Very funny," Steve grinned, "Your mom bought us that new baby carrier front-pack thing the other day since our big guy has already outgrown the sling. I can carry him in the pack, and you can bring along the mommy milk," he smiled, "Nice that it's so portable."

"It?" her eyes narrowed at him again.

"You," he clarified, "I meant you. What do you say? We need a day to rest and relax, and not by gardening but by getting away from this house and the office for a while. As someone once told me, you should take time to relax equally as much as you work. Wasn't that you?" he winked, "But if you're into this gardening thing right now, then…"

"No," her head shook emphatically, "Actually, I'm really not."

Several hours later they were weaving their way upward along a narrow, overgrown, path lined mostly by shrub-sized Ohia trees. Other emerald green vegetation was abundant, leaves glimmering from a recent rainfall earlier in the morning. The sun was currently hiding above a thin layer of white clouds that ringed the mountain range's peak, making the weather nice and cool for the hike. A lone bird sang a repetitive tune that echoed across the range and carried down into the valley below them.

"You're not getting to see much of the view, champ," Steve whispered to the baby strapped to his chest who was half asleep, "And your mom…" he turned to see Catherine was several yards behind him, just turning the last switchback, "You keeping up back there?" he called out to her.

"Don't you worry, I can still keep up with you, sailor," she shot back.

"I've missed your sass, woman," Steve grinned.

Catherine made a noise that was not quite a laugh, "Did you just say you've missed my ass?"

Steve nearly tripped over his own feet as he chuckled. His hands swiftly covered the baby's ears as he stopped and waited for her to catch up to him. "Watch your language, you're going to corrupt my son," he teasingly scolded her. Steve laughed again as she didn't bother to stop, walking right past him. He removed his hands from Evan's ears and followed after her, "Sass, I said I've missed your sass," he clarified even as he gently smacked her behind. "But, yes, that too," he quipped.

"I can't believe I've allowed your DNA to be reproduced," she stopped, turned and leaned forward, kissing the top of Evan's head.

"Is that the only kiss you're handing out?" Steve wore a pout.

"You know when you said a little hike this morning, I was thinking an hour tops… maybe mildly hilly," one hand rested against her hip as she took a sip of water from the reservoir in her daypack, "Not this sprint-climb straight up the side of the Ko'olau Range."

His head shook, "First of all, we're not even close to the top of the range, and second… I thought you said you could keep up?"

She stuck her tongue out, turned on her heel and resumed hiking.

"Real mature," Steve grinned, amazed that less than twenty-four hours ago they'd been face-to-face with Lawson in the interrogation room. He knew they'd eventually have to confront the man again, but for now he was enjoying their brief respite.

They approached the rocky outcrop that he'd had in mind as the terminus for their hike. Catherine craned her neck to gaze up at the ancient Hawaiian petroglyphs as Steve began to rattle off what some of them represented, "Honu is the turtle," he spoke to her, but also to the baby who'd woken fully and was sucking on his left fist as Steve pointed to the large rock face, "And most of these here," he motioned, "Are symbols of the hunt, sort of a documentary to pass along to the next generation - where to hunt and what to hunt."

Catherine smiled as her eyes focused on Steve and Evan rather than the petroglyphs.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he eventually asked.

"Like what?" she shrugged.

"I don't know, all dreamy-eyed," Steve regarded her, not sure what she was thinking about.

"I am not dreamy-eyed."

"Yeah, okay, but something's up."

She shrugged, "He's not even quite four months old," Catherine pointed out, waving a hand at Evan, "You do realize he's more interested in his fingers and toes right now than these petroglyphs. He doesn't even know what you're talking about."

"Ah," Steve wagged a finger at her, "But aren't you the one who claimed this was prime learning time for his little brain synapses?" he threw those words back at her and watched her smile and nod, "And that dreamy look you were giving me earlier was not about Evan being too little to understand."

As she listened to him, Catherine realized for the second day in a row how well he knew her, "You're right. I was just thinking about the future, picturing you and Evan hiking up here together in a few years," she relayed, "Him trying to race you up to the very top."

"He'll be beating his old man to the summit in no time," Steve grinned, remembering the first time he'd beaten his father up there.

"I'm sorry," Catherine whispered.

"Why're you sorry?" he wondered.

"I wish your dad could be here with the two of you," she guessed that was what he had on his mind, "I know you'd rather that than me here."

"No, Cath," Steve reached out to take her hand. "I mean, yeah, sure I'd love for my dad and me and Evan to be able to take this hike together. But standing up here with Evan, I realize that dad is with us. He lives on in this little champ of ours," he took Evan's hand as well, "And he's here in me and you. I don't think I've said it before, but I'm so glad you got to meet my dad, even if it was just that one afternoon. I have so many stories and memories to tell Evan about his grandfather, but I like that you have some, too."

Catherine was touched to hear him say that.

"I'm glad you're here with us, Cath," he insisted. "I wanted to bring you up here because this is still one of the most beautiful, untouched, places on the island I know of," as he spoke Steve didn't even glance out at the view, "But even as beautiful as it is up here, there's one view that's lovelier. You," he declared, "When my dad used to bring me up here I never imagined seeing anything more gorgeous than this. That changed the night I met you."

She leaned in and allowed her lips to linger against his for a moment, "You've still got it, smooth dog," she whispered.

He chuckled at her comment, squeezing her hand a bit tighter, "Catherine, the first night we met I was… well, I've never wanted to be with someone the way I wanted to stay with you that night," Steve admitted, "And there were so many more nights I wanted to stay with you, but over the years I remained cautious."

"I know," she replied softly, not sure why he was getting so emotional.

"I kept looking for some sort of sign, I think," he shrugged, knowing that wasn't exactly right, "Something to tell me you were going to stick around, something to make me realize we were going to last, some assurance. I don't really know what I was looking for, but then last year when you decided to leave the Navy I figured that was it," he took a breath.

Catherine looked him in the eye, still trying to figure out what he was leading to.

"What I'm trying to say is that…" Steve paused again, "My plan last year was to buy you a ring and bring you up here to propose. Of course after you told me marriage wasn't a part of your plan I backed down for a while," he smiled, seeing how shocked she looked even though he knew Danny had let slip to her about him planning to buy a ring, "When you left for Russia and weren't mad at me I decided I'd just go for it when you got home. Figured I'd be able to talk you into it somehow."

"Steve, I…" she bit her bottom lip.

"I realize now that I don't want to try to talk you into marrying me," he shook his head, "I don't want to force you like Lawson forced you to give up your freedom. I know that married or not we're going to be together," Steve insisted, "We're always going to be making our way home to each other. And we don't need a ring or a marriage certificate to be happy or know this thing between us is going to last."

"No, we don't," Catherine agreed.

"But," he let go of her hand and Evan's for a moment, leaning over and reaching into the side cargo pocket of his khakis. Steve pulled a chain out and held it for her to see the ID tag and the ring hanging off it. He undid the clasp and carefully pulled the ring free, "I bought you this ring on Valentine's Day," Steve held it out to her, re-pocketing the chain and her ID tag. He shrugged, "It's your ring; I've been calling it your ring all these months. I wore it on that chain around my neck sorta as a way to keep you close and…"

She couldn't help stare at the ring as he struggled to find the rest of his words.

"I guess I wore it as a reminder of my love for you," Steve finally said, "Not that I ever needed a reminder," he reached for her right hand and pressed the ring against her palm, "I want you to have it, to wear on whatever finger you want, or put it on another chain to wear, or not wear it at all…" he curled her fingers around it and let go.

Catherine opened her hand and was able to take a better look at the ring, "You bought this in February when I was in Russia?"

"Yes," Steve answered, "Valentine's night, just before…"

"Before you knew I was pregnant?" she asked, "Before I knew I was pregnant?"

He nodded, "Yes, before all that."

"Yet it's a sapphire," she marveled at the dark blue stone and the diamonds nestled on either side of it.

"You don't like it?" Steve's heart sank into his stomach, his hands resting against Evan's back.

"No," she whispered, looking up into his stormy-blue eyes, "I love this, Steve. This ring is stunning. I just can't believe you bought it before Evan was born."

His eyes narrowed, "What, you thought I'd only want to marry you because of our son?"

Her eyes went wide, "No, no," Catherine smiled while shaking her head, "I don't think I made myself very clear. I'm only surprised you bought it before Evan was born because sapphire is the birthstone for those born in September."

"Oh…" he had to think about that a split second longer to realize, "Oh, Evan?"

"Evan," she nodded.

Steve glanced down at the boy as Evan reached out with his left hand, grabbing a tiny fistful of Steve's white t-shirt. Evan's big feet dangled and kicked against his dad's thighs. Steve rubbed a hand atop the baby's dark hair, "The antique store owner where I bought that ring," he pointed to the item still resting against her palm, "Sam, he asked me if I believed in fate and I told him no, but he insisted that fate believed in me. He also told me that sapphires are called the stone of destiny."

"Destiny, huh?" Catherine questioned, "That's not a word I figured I'd ever hear emit from the pragmatic lips of Steve McGarrett."

He grinned, "You know I love it when you use those big words," Steve joked, "I'm still not sure I believe in all that sort of stuff, but I do believe our meeting each other wasn't just coincidence. I didn't want to attend a military ball that night; you know Freddie twisted my arm to get me there. And even though you two didn't know each other that well other than a few outings we had with him and Kelly, I…" he smiled sadly, "I always felt Freddie was kind of the thing that connected me to you, because of him dragging me to that dance."

"And he'll always connect us because of that," she agreed.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Sam also said that the ring would assure we'd always find our way home to each other."

"I think I like this Sam guy and I don't even know him," Catherine grinned before quickly making a decision about what to do with the ring. She didn't bother trying it on several different fingers, there was only one she had in mind as she slipped it onto her left middle finger, "Close enough," she whispered, amazed by how it fit that finger perfectly. Catherine looked to Steve again, seeing how happy he seemed to be that she was wearing it. In that moment there was only one thing on her mind, "Yes."

His brow furrowed in confusion, not sure if he'd heard her right, "Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you," Catherine said without warning.

Steve blinked and swallowed, shaking his head, "I don't think you understand… I just said I wasn't asking you to marry me."

"I know, but…" she bit her lip and shrugged, "Maybe you should ask."

"Are you asking me to ask you to marry you?" Steve was pretty sure he must've slipped and hit his head again like the last time he'd visited the petroglyphs with Danny and conked his head on a falling rock, "Isn't that kind of like you asking me to marry you?"

It took her a moment to think about what he'd just said, "Well, I was the first one to say I love you," Catherine recalled, "But what does it really matter?"

Steve wore a smile that was half shocked, half amused, "Just remember, I'm the one who asked you to dance."

"Yes," she nodded, "You do still have that going for you," Catherine smiled softly.

He could see past the smile on her face. The look she wore was more expectant than anything else. His hands rubbed up and down along the back of Evan's snuggly pack again, the baby glancing up at him with an equal amount of expectancy. Steve found that he actually felt nervous as he stood there before her, even when he had very good indication of what her answer would be, "Suddenly I'm not so sure how to do this," he revealed.

"Kneeling is traditional," she shrugged, somewhat amused to see him so anxious.

"Right, because we're so traditional," Steve pointed to the baby strapped to his chest as proof of that sarcastic comment. His heart beat faster as he made his move, going down on his right knee, wishing he was wearing something fancier than khakis and a t-shirt half covered in baby drool, "Catherine Rollins..." he looked up at her and noticed the disapproving raise of her brow, "Lieutenant Catherine Rollins," Steve corrected with a chuckle, "Will you marry me?"

She nodded at first, feeling a bit chocked up by his actual question, "Yes," Catherine whispered.

Steve was on his feet again in a few seconds. He closed the gap between them, at least as much as he could with Evan still attached to his front. He rested one hand against her neck as the other held her side. His lips connected with hers in a delicate embrace that swept them up in the simplicity of the moment. His heart was still racing as he pulled back a little to look her in the eye, "Why now?" he asked, "What's changed?"

Catherine let out a breath, "I realized that you were right, married or not we're going to be together. So, why not?"

"Why not?" Steve shook his head at her, "Not exactly the excited response I was hoping for."

"Well, you've got Evan strapped to you so I can't exactly jump into your arms and have you twirl me around," Catherine smiled.

"And you're not a sentimental twirling sort of girl," he added.

Her smile brightened, crinkling the corners of her eyes, "No, but I love you and I'm going to marry you," she declared.

Steve tried to wrap his head around the way she'd just so easily said those words. "I'm still not exactly sure what just happened," he felt a little like he was suffering from a whiplash injury, "Is it weird that I want to know what changed for you?"

"My parents."

"I thought your parents were the reason you didn't want to get married?"

She nodded, "They were until I talked to my mom the other day. My parents loved each other, Steve, but that wasn't enough. They didn't know how to talk to each other, they didn't know how to be there for one another," Catherine recalled, "I think we already have both of those issues figured out, because even when we were apart most of this year…" she tried to think of the right way to explain it, "You were there for me, Steve. You're always there for me."

"And always will be," he promised.

000

"That one is nice," Steve pointed to a tall ceramic turquoise pitcher as they walked through the Charikar town bazaar.

Behind the pitcher was a wall covered with bowls and plates, mostly in deep rich turquoise hues, but some reds, browns and golden yellows as well.

"I bought one similar to that for my Aunt Louise a few months ago," Catherine gave a polite nod to the pottery seller before she turned back to Steve, "That's Koshan, he's from the village of Istalif, south-west of here. He's been learning the pottery craft from his father. Koshan's very quiet and sweet if you can get him to talk. Istalif has been experiencing a reconnection to their pottery history lately since the fighting was directed away from the smaller villages."

Steve was impressed by her knowledge of the area, and loved how she knew the locals by name. "So you're a supporter of the Afghan fine arts?"

"Very much," she replied, "Other than my Aunt Louise, I've sent my grandma a teapot and my mom a set of bowls that I thought could be used for pasta," Catherine told him, "Istalif potters use this combination of ash from a mountain bush and copper to make their famous turquoise hue. You'll see it everywhere around here, and you know how much I like the color blue," she smiled and pointed to another shop, "This is the place."

Catherine squatted and reached out to pet the old shaggy guard dog that greeted them at the front of the stall.

"Hi, Zemar," she spoke softly to the animal, "How've you been, boy?" Catherine gave the canine a last pat atop his head before standing and greeting the junk shop owner. "Salaam alaikum, Jahandar," she smiled demurely, her scarf still secured about her head. The shop was an open-air stall along the bustling market place. Three sides covered with simply woven cloth to keep the wind at bay. The stall was narrow at the front but opened wider at the back as she guided Steve into the space.

"Wa'alaikum salaam, soldier Rollins," Jahandar grinned.

She chuckled softly to hear the man call her soldier, "Anything new this week?" Catherine asked.

The young shop owner nodded and pointed to a bin on her left, "Nuts and bolts, as you call them," he said, "I think the kind you will like."

With a keen eye, Catherine rifled through the bin and found several items that she believed would be useful. She paid Jahandar his fair asking price and they bid each other a cheerful farewell. Steve walked beside her again, admiringly watching as she picked out some fruit to take back to base with them. "We don't have much left to go over," Steve said as he took the mesh bag filled with fruit and carried it for her, "I'll have to leave soon."

Catherine directed him to the right, turning down the same main road they'd traveled after leaving Fahran's restaurant. "We need to encrypt it," she offered.

His head shook, "Not my area of expertise," Steve dismissed, "I should really get back to where I'm needed most."

That comment bothered her more than she would've liked, "What we're doing here is just as…"

Her words were cut short by a loud explosion ahead of them. They both ducked their heads and ran toward the safety of the nearest building, a small clothing shop. Steve dropped the fruit bag and instinctually wrapped an arm about Catherine's shoulder, drawing her as far away from any danger as he could. Another larger explosion sounded, rumbling across the open market place and actually shaking the ground. They huddled near the clothing shop to wait out the attack, but no other explosions occurred.

They heard frightened shouts from the locals as everyone tried to figure out what had just happened.

Steve and Catherine walked back into the street and could see a plume of smoke rising from about half a block's length down the street, "Steve…" Catherine felt her chest tighten as her feet picked up speed, "That looks really close to Fahran's restaurant."

He didn't bother responding as their quick pace turned into a full out sprint.

Fahran's building was caved in on the left side when they arrived, the bomb having hit much closer than Catherine or Steve could've imagined. "Amy," Catherine whispered the female pilot's name as she approached the front entrance. The wooden door was splintered and the frame leaned precariously to the right, but there was just enough space to make it through. She knew Steve was right behind her as they entered the structure. "Bahnam!" Catherine shouted, "Fahran!"

"Here," a weak voice responded, "Komak… I'm over here."

Amy's body was covered in dust as Steve reached her, and her right leg was mangled, "Can you stand if I help you?" he asked.

She nodded, "I think so," the woman was distracted as she looked over his shoulder, "Bahnam? He was closer to the man… he…"

As he took hold of her waist, Steve caught sight of Catherine across the room. She was squatted near a large pile of rubble. "I've got you," he said to Amy as she stood with a great deal of difficulty, hopping on her good leg, "Can you tell me what happened?"

"There were three men who came in to eat," the pilot recalled as she winced against the pain shooting up her leg. "I was still drawing with Bahnam when one of them said something about us needing to leave, clear the room, I think. My understanding of the language isn't that great but…" she sighed, "I saw he had a bomb strapped beneath his tunic. Then a second man revealed his bomb. Bahnam got spooked and ran toward his father, they were both closer to the men when…"

"Steve," Catherine's voice was soft, distant, not at all urgent as she called him over.

He helped Amy hobble across the room and spotted the bodies Catherine had found. Fahran was to her right, forehead covered in blood, unmoving. The little boy lay in front of Catherine. She held his limp, lifeless hand in hers as she stared up at Steve, shaking her head. It was clear neither one of them had survived. "We need to get them out of here," she whispered, "They should be taken somewhere so they can be…" Catherine swallowed, "The town will want to bury them together."

His head gave a dismal nod, "I'll get Amy out, then we'll have to be quick," Steve glanced at the overhead structure, beams broken and barely holding the ceiling together, "I'm afraid this place could completely cave in."

"I'll carry Bahnam out now," Catherine replied, not waiting as she carefully scooped her arms beneath the slight boy's body and lifted him.

With a heavy heart, Steve watched as she tenderly cradled the boy and walked him outside into the bright afternoon sunshine. He helped Amy to a bench across the road where two men spoke in English, "We have medical supplies," the one told Steve, "The air base will come shortly, but we can help for now," he offered.

Steve nodded his thanks before turning to find Catherine handing Bahnam's body over to a town elder.

Catherine pressed a hand against the boy's forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. She left him and rushed over to Steve. "We need to get Fahran," she directed.

He nodded and followed her back into the damaged building, hearing the loud groans and creaks of wood and concrete that was barely holding onto its uprightness, "Catherine, you should go. I can drag Fahran out on my own, but this place isn't…" he didn't get a chance to finish as a huge chunk of the ceiling came crashing down in front of them.

"We should pull at least one of the bombers out," she protested even as the ceiling continued to rain down small pieces of concrete, "If we can identify who did this…"

The structure gave one last angry groan before it began its final collapse.

Realizing he was no help to Fahran, Steve grabbed Catherine's left hand and glanced around the room. The door was too far away to reach in time so he spotted the safest place he could think of. He pushed her beneath the sturdy looking section of stairway, the one structural element that was still mostly intact. "This is our best shot," he told her.

Catherine felt her knees collide with the hard floor as she slipped beneath Bahnam's desk. She reached out for Steve's hand as he stooped to join her beneath the stairway. Her fingers had barely brushed against his when she watched helplessly as a large beam broke off and hit him across his shoulders. "Steve!" Catherine exclaimed, adrenaline rushing through her body as she scrambling out of her safety spot to drag him toward her.

She'd just gotten his legs out of harm's way when the rest of the ceiling caved in on them.

000

He glanced at his phone and sighed at the text message waiting for him.

"What is it?" Catherine asked as she pealed her outer layer off and tossed it into the backseat, careful to keep it out of Evan's reach. His little hands seemed to be growing grabbier by the day. The weather was much warmer off the mountain range and she rolled down her window as they sat in Steve's truck getting ready to head home. "The look on your face tells me it's got to be work," she guessed.

Steve looked over at her, "Apparently Lawson wants to talk to me," he let her know.

She rubbed the underside of the engagement ring on her left middle finger, "Oh," was all she could think to say in reply to that unexpected news.

"I'll drop you two off at home first," Steve sat his phone on the middle console and turned the engine over.

"It's closer to swing by HQ," Catherine pointed out. "We can wait for you there while you go to Halawa, then maybe we'll have dinner together?" she suggested.

A smile appeared as he nodded and pulled away from the base of the mountain range, "I'd like that," Steve agreed.

They walked into HQ and Steve noticed the whole team was gathered around the computer table. On the main screen Chin had a display of the surveillance camera in Lawson's spacious Halawa maximum security cell, the same heavily-protected cell they'd kept Wo Fat locked in. The safety glass had been replaced after El Condor's men had shot it up pretty well. Now the man in his early sixties sat in the middle of the room looking rather small and older than he had just a day ago.

"He really said he wanted to talk to me?" Steve questioned, "Specifically?"

Danny nodded, "Warden sent over the request. You're the lucky winner of a conversation with a psycho whack-job, must be some good karma coming around your way," he quipped.

Catherine sat Evan against the computer, holding on tightly to his waist, "You don't have to talk to him," she said to Steve, "Maybe it would be better if you didn't," Catherine tried to think it through, knowing the man had to have something planned, "Make him wait at least, frustrate him."

Steve sighed, "What if he actually wants to tell me about his slave trade operations in China? Or what he's got going on in Brazil? This could be our only opportunity to get him talking again, and if we miss out he could shut down for good."

"What is that?" Kono asked.

"That's what we like to call no good options," Chin replied.

Kono smiled softly at her cousin's response, "No, not about Lawson," she stared at Catherine's left hand, "Is that what I think it is?"

Realizing the younger woman was looking at her ring, Catherine felt a bit on the spot as all eyes were directed her way. She had a feeling the team had seen the ring before she ever had, "This is…" Catherine couldn't help smile when she looked at the antique ring, "Well, it's not exactly the traditional finger for wearing an engagement ring," she revealed.

"Engaged?" Danny's eyes shot to Steve. He pointed a finger at his partner as his gaze went back to Catherine, "Did this big dope actually ask you, or did you have to ask him?"

Steve looked offended, "What are you…" he shrugged, arms crossed over his chest, "Why do you gotta be like that, Danny? Of course I asked her."

Danny eyed Catherine again. "He did," she confirmed with a slight smile, flashing Steve a not-so-covert wink.

"That ring is gorgeous," Kono admired, not having seen it very closely in the evidence bag a while back, "It's so unique."

"And has a great story behind it," Danny noted, "You tell Catherine the story?" he asked Steve.

"Yes, of course I did," Steve nodded.

"You should tell Chin and Kono," Danny suggested, "No, actually I tell the story better than he does."

"Excuse me," Steve glared at his partner, hands shifting to his hips, "Its Catherine's ring and I bought it. I can tell the story just fine."

The detective wasn't convinced, "But you leave out all the good details, like how we were only there because we were chasing that kid through the store and, oh," Danny slapped Steve against the chest, "You tell her how much you paid for it?" he grinned, "Probably even less than those fake diamonds, what'd they call 'em, cubic zirconia? Remember we saw one of those at that other store, the place where that lady thought you were buying the ring for me." He turned to Catherine, "Sixty-five dollars is…"

"It was a sixty-five dollar down payment, Danny," Steve stopped his partner, shaking his head fervently. He turned a smile Catherine's direction, "He's a little…" Steve glared at his friend trying to convey that he'd promised to never reveal the ring's price to her, "Danny doesn't know what he's talking about. The ring is real, real diamonds and sapphire, gold, the whole deal. I had it appraised and its worth, well, it doesn't really matter…" he shot Danny another withering glare, "But it's worth plenty."

Catherine grinned, "I don't care how much it's worth or what you paid for it. I love the history behind it. I love the ring."

"You hear that?" Steve eyed Danny again, puffing out his chest, "She loves the ring."

"These two bicker like they're married," Chin waged a finger between Steve and Danny.

Kono and Catherine just nodded.

Steve put a hand against Catherine's back and smiled at Evan, "I think it's worth a shot," he said, "Talking to Lawson."

She nodded, "I think I'll sit this one out."

A short drive later Steve entered the heavily fortified cell. He starred Lawson in the eye through the thick bullet proof glass. "You wanted to talk?" Steve encouraged the man, not waiting for him to say the first word since he figured that might take forever.

"Not talk so much as deal," Lawson replied.

"Deal?" Steve was already wary of the situation. "I won't be making any deals with you."

"Then I guess you don't want to know where An is right now," Lawson shrugged, turning away from Steve, "I don't really care if she goes free, but I had the feeling you did."

It took a lot of restraint not to walk away, "Where is she?"

"Oh, she's still on this island," Lawson turned back around, a smug smile in place, "But I can't tell you exactly where until I get to make that deal I mentioned. I realize, as you promised me yesterday, I'll likely never see the light of day again. But I'm not a menace and I don't think I should have to serve in any sort of maximum security facility. So I'd like you to make sure I'm given a nice cozy cell somewhere with at least a small view of the sky."

"You are one very deluded man if you think…" Steve sighed, "Fine, no maximum security. I don't think you're the type to cause riots or dig a tunnel to break free," he agreed, "You like mind games a little better. So, sure, okay… you have a deal. Now where is An?"

"An is hiding out in a place up north," Lawson revealed, "It's a bit of property Wo Fat absorbed along with another deal years ago. Of course his name was never associated with the land deed. Anyhow, there's a private, unmarked road about half way between the towns of Kahuku and Laie. The road dead ends into the area where the Lamoloa and Hina gulches meet. There's a building at the very end of the track, the place where the auction buyers were taken to sign their contracts."

Steve didn't bother asking for any further information.

Five-0 and Grover's team converged on the remote sight an hour later. They searched a few buildings on foot, but all of them were empty, "We came down this road when we were searching out Larry Russell's claims," Grover recalled, "Never spotted anything but farm land and equipment, a few houses and these out buildings," he trailed off as Steve uncovered a chain-link fence that was hidden by bushes. "Obviously didn't look hard enough," the man realized.

"No one would've thought to look this hard," Steve tried to ease the Captain's mind as they worked together to uncover the fence.

Behind the fence it was densely wooded, but the trees eventually gave way to a building. It was a long narrow warehouse looking structure, concrete walls with and glass windows. A good thirty feet tall and yet extremely well concealed from any vantage point around the area. Steve and Chin went around the back side while Danny and Kono stayed up front. Grover and the rest of his team split off to cover both lengths of the structure, "No visuals on the interior, windows are tinted," Grover reported through the radio.

"Same around back," Steve concluded, "But it seems our door is unlocked.

"Front door is open as well," Kono put in.

"Side doors also unlocked," Grover relayed, "There's something fishy here if you ask me."

"Yeah, and Lawson gave up An far too easily," Steve replied, not ever planning to honor the deal he'd made with the man, "On the count of three?" He waited for Grover's agreement before he began to count them down, "Three," the weight of his gun was abundantly apparent as he stood there waiting, "Two," he watched as Chin took a deep breath, "One," Steve said as he slowly turned the knob again and pushed the heavy metal door open. Chin covered his six as they entered the spacious interior.

From the inside they could see out through the windows, the wooded gulch and surrounding slope.

"I've got something," Kono called out. The others gathered around as she pulled black tablecloths off large wooden artist easels. Three foot by two foot poster boards were found beneath the covers, blown up pictures of babies. "This is definitely where they took the Russell's," she concluded, "But why would Lawson give us this place?"

"Not sure," Steve knew something was off as he tilted his head back to search above them. There didn't seem to be any other floors, and there were no rooms or bathrooms, no evidence of anyone camped out in the place, "I think we need to…"

A loud mechanical hiss sounded throughout the space.

"What was that?" Danny spun around.

Grover took a quick head count of his team and his stomach clenched, "Everyone's inside," he announced.

Another noise filled the space, this time a continuous sliding groan as the windows began to darken one by one. They all watched as mechanized window shades rolled upward rather than down, leaving them no chance to stop the motion from their place on the ground, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Danny remarked as the metal shades made their final climb to the top and plunged the room into darkness. "This is like some bad horror slasher movie," he ignited the flashlight on his vest.

Everyone else lit their flashlight as well, pinprick beams of light flashing in the otherwise inky space.

Kono, Chin and Grover tried the doors but none of them budged. "Pretty sure we tripped some sort of failsafe," Grover realized as he looked to Steve, "Started when the last of my team entered and the door closed behind her."

Steve nodded, "I think you're right," he agreed, reaching for his cell phone.

"What are you doing?" Grover tried to stop him, "We can't call anyone else in here," he advised, "There's no way to know what sort of bobby traps the exterior of this place has got going on," the man sighed, "Lawson set you up, you know that, right?"

With a frustrated growl, Steve nodded as he pressed the first speed dial tile on his phone, "There's one person I can count on." He waited, somewhat impatiently, as the line rang once and then twice before she finally picked up, "Cath, are you still at HQ?"

"I said we'd wait for you here," she answered.

"Good, because we could really use your help," he quickly broke down the situation for her, "We need to figure a way out of here, which means I need you to somehow get eyes on this building without putting anyone else in danger."

"You just said it was remote," Catherine responded, "So how am I going to get eyes on you?"

"Not sure, but you're the one with all the Intel expertise in this relationship," Steve tried to lighten the mood a little, hearing the tension in her voice, "I've got a bad feeling about this one, Cath. I don't think time is our friend right now. I need you to be at the top of your game, Lieutenant."

She let out a sigh, "Okay, give me a few minutes to sort something out."

"You've got it," he disconnected.

Danny was at his side, "We're not getting out of here without a fight, are we?" he asked. "Because there's some pipe over there I'm about to use to pry open a window."

"Just hang tight for now, Danny," Steve advised as he squeezed his cell phone, looking down at the picture of Catherine and Evan he'd taken near the petroglyph site just a little earlier in the day, "Catherine will come through for us, I know she will," he showed Danny the picture.

A smile formed on the detective's face, but then a frown, "Jeez, babe, you didn't tell them we found a dead body up there once, did you?" Danny asked.

Steve shook his head, "No, but I made a much happier memory up there today."

000

She let out a shaky breath while fiddling with the phone.

It took her longer than it should have to set the beacon in place, but her fingers were sore and the light from her flashlight was dim.

When it was done, Catherine returned her attention to the unconscious man lying beside her beneath the stairway. The staircase was barely being held upright by a few cantilevered concrete treads, minimal rebar and a wooden desk that was stronger than it looked. Those things combined provided just enough cover for them, but massive chunks of Fahran's once cozy restaurant had them trapped in about a six foot by five foot space. Catherine's legs were already feeling cramped in the tight space.

That minimal discomfort instantly faded from thought when she heard Steve rouse with a groan.

"Hey there, sailor," she whispered as his eyes opened, "Nice of you to finally wake up," Catherine joked, tasting the dust on her lips, trying to pretend she hadn't been extremely worried he wouldn't wake up. "This was a nice attempt to get out of it, but you still owe me a proper dinner," she added.

He grinned, but it was marred by a grimace, "You sure lunch didn't count?"

"Already told you no," Catherine tried to keep the mood light.

"I have my…" Steve attempted to sit up but stopped when his shoulder screamed out in protest.

"Easy there, big guy," Catherine gently helped him settle back down, his head resting on her lap, "I think you dislocated it," she nodded toward his shoulder, "Doesn't feel broken, but I'm no medic," she smiled, pressing one hand against his sweaty and dirty forehead.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, "I have my sat phone… it's in the cargo pocket of my pants," he finally finished what he'd been trying to say earlier.

"Already found it," she replied, pointing to the item on the ground next to them as he re-opened his eyes, "I couldn't get a signal. Should be able to even in this mess, but I think the receiver was busted when you fell. I did manage to rig it to send out a distress beacon through the transmitter, though. Amy knows we're in here and the base will send a rescue party, we shouldn't be trapped in here too much longer," she spoke confidently.

His smile returned as he gazed up at her, "You remember the last time we were together?"

She nodded, "Nine months ago in the smallest Bangkok hotel room imaginable, but the best Thai food… and way too much alcohol. I remember I got so drunk that night I woke up with a star tattoo on the back of my neck."

He chuckled softly, but it hurt to laugh even a little, "Not exactly regulation."

"Oh, really?" she scoffed, "Why didn't you bother to mention that before the artist started?"

"I remember I was very drunk, too," Steve gave his only defense.

"And you have a tattoo across your lower back to prove it," Catherine teased.

His eyes remained locked on her, "That next morning I woke up and watched you sleep for nearly an hour," Steve revealed, "I almost didn't wake you, wanted you to miss your flight. I didn't want you to leave. I wanted to stay with you in that cramped hotel room forever. But nothing lasts forever," he whispered the last few words.

Catherine wasn't sure what to think about his comments, still trying to make sense of the way he pushed her away and clung to her equally. "I found this," she reached for the piece of paper she'd discovered under the stairs. Catherine shined her dim flashlight beam against the page, "Some of Bahnam's drawings," her voice turned softer, "He loved dogs," she showed Steve the side with about half a dozen different sketches of local dogs, some she recognized like Zemar who guarded Jahandar's junk shop.

"He's talented," Steve said without realizing his slip, "Was," he whispered.

She flipped the page over, "And these three he must've done today," Catherine held it for Steve to see the figures the eight-year-old boy had drawn. She read the words above each figure, "Mitra Amy," Catherine pointed to the woman Bahnam had treated much like a mother, "Mitra Cath," she smiled at the camouflage covered portrait of herself, "And I think this one is my favorite," she pointed to the figure standing next to hers, "He labeled you: tall soldier man."

"It looks like he drew us holding hands," Steve noticed, touched to have been included in one of the boy's final drawings.

"Maybe he just ran out of room," Catherine said as she looked at it a little closer, seeing that their hands did overlap.

"No," he reached out his right hand and grasped her left, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I'm definitely holding your hand," Steve insisted.

Catherine nodded, "Yes, you are."

000

"I still can't believe you bought this thing," she shook her head while pulling up the operational program on Five-0's computer system.

There was no one else in HQ with her aside from Evan who'd fallen asleep in his car seat after the long day he'd already had. Catherine still talked aloud as she tried to figure out the system, "Okay, Billy, tell me how this thing works." She fully realized her friend was dead, but he hadn't left very detailed instructions, "I know there's got to be a password to gain access," Catherine sighed, pressing her palms against the computer table, "But what's the dang code?"

She thought about how Billy had helped Steve and the team decipher her coded messages. That made her smile, and it also made her remember that Billy had never liked her more complicated codes. "You always went for the simple ones, even simpler than the Caesar cypher I taught you," she mulled over her memories until inspiration finally hit her like a freight train, "Like acronyms… I know what it's got to be," Catherine typed speedily, "November, India, Tango, Romeo, Papa," she spoke each letter while typing them longhand.

The compute beeped happily and a message popped up on screen: Code accepted.

"Naval Intelligence, Timely, Relevant and Predictive," she grinned, "Thank you for being so transparent, Harrington."

As she dialed Steve, Evan chose that moment to wake up crying. It didn't take her long to smell the reason behind his discomfort, "Seriously bad timing, nugget," she spoke softly to the boy as she dragged his car seat across the floor with one foot and rocked it gently with the same foot, "I really need to help daddy right now," she told the boy.

"Cath, what have you got?" Steve answered the call.

"I have a satellite uplink," she did her best to quickly digest all the information on screen, "Thermals show twelve figures near the north-east corner of the building, I'm guessing that's you and Grover's team?" she asked, though didn't wait for him to reply, "The exterior images are coming up now…"

Evan let out a pitiful cry.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Nothing," she set her cell on the table and reached down to lift the baby from his seat, "Everything's fine," Catherine balanced the boy on her left hip as she promptly returned her attention to the satellite downloads, "Steve?" a chill ran down her spine as she held Evan a little closer with her left hand, her right hand still dancing over the program controls, "Please tell me no one is trying to breach the windows or doors of that building." There was a long pause, "Steve?"

"Danny and a few of Grover's team are working on a window shade with an old pipe, why?" he wondered.

"Tell them to stop," she instructed with a grave tone, "The roof of that building is lined with explosives."

"Shit," he swore. Catherine could hear him shout, "Danny, stop what you're doing right now!"

A few seconds later she heard Danny's voice over the line, "What the heck's got you so worked up?"

"Explosives," Steve pointed to his phone, "Cath's got eyes on us," his words redirected to her, "So what're you thinking?"

"You said the doors and windows locked as soon as you were all inside," Catherine recalled, "If there's any truth in why Lawson lead you there, I'd say An set this system up," she guessed, "An used a lot of motion sensitive technology on the Kappa; doors, windows, lights," she studied several more images, "I think I found them, quarter-sized round sensors on the exterior painted to blend in with the trim. There's a ton of them, Steve. But you wouldn't have noticed them just walking by."

"What about the explosives, if we're all inside why haven't they gone off yet?" it was Grover's voice she heard ask that question.

Catherine sighed, "My best guess is Lawson wants to maximize his casualty rate. There must be a second motion component. If you pry the doors or windows open the bomb blows. Which means anyone we send in to rescue you is definitely at risk unless we can eliminate the motion aspect."

"You can pinpoint the cameras, right, map them all out?" Steve questioned. "Give instructions to Grover's reserve team so they can disable them. Then it should be clear for the bomb squad to come in and defuse the explosives."

She chuckled dryly, "You make it sound so simple," Catherine kissed Evan's temple, seeing the baby had calmed down a little. "Yeah, I think I can isolate all the sensors, but sending a team in there to disable them?" she questioned, "Any sort of movement outside that building is going to set them off again, which could be the blow trigger. And that's not even taking into account that there could also be a timer set somewhere else that we might be working against."

"Well, don't you think maybe you should look for something like that?" Danny suggested.

"Yes," she nodded, her fingers already typing in the codes necessary to zoom in on the roof again, "Yes, I should," Catherine realized. The satellite images lagged by a few seconds every time she zoomed in further. It took almost ten minutes to search the entire roof, but she finally spotted something. "I've got a timer in the south-west corner," her voice betrayed the brave front she'd been hoping to maintain, "It's already counting down, about eighty minutes... hold on."

The call was ended abruptly as she gently bounced Evan and dialed HPD. When she was done, Catherine reconnected with Steve.

"Cath, what the heck?" he answered, "Did you hang up on me?"

"Bomb squad is mobilizing as we speak, they're going to be transported to your location via helicopter," she relayed, "They'll be there in about a half hour, but they can't even land nearby until I can figure out how to disable the sensor codes remotely, which…" Catherine sighed, "I'm not sure that's even possible."

"What kind of satellite uplink are you tapping into?" Steve finally asked, "Navy?"

"Nope," she replied, "You remember what Billy's father told us about him spending the million dollars?"

"Yes," he sounded cautious.

"Apparently that's enough money to buy a slightly used former German military satellite," Catherine revealed.

"Billy left you a satellite?" Steve was more than a little surprised by that news.

"He did," she confirmed.

"Huh," he wasn't sure what to think, "Sapphire ring, satellite… not much comparison there."

"Stop it," Catherine rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn't see her, "This is not a matter of whose is bigger," she scoffed. "Besides, Billy is dead, so you can't really compete with that," she teased, hoping to ease his mind, "And, sure, a satellite is nice and practical, but not very shiny."

"I love you," he said.

That unexpected declaration had her stomach in a knot, "Then I guess I need to stop stroking your ego and figure out how to disable these codes," she put her mind to it, keeping him on the line as they talked it though. It took nearly twenty minutes before she managed to crack through An's programing and even reach a point in which an encrypted code was needed, "What is the deal with codes today? If I never seen another one…"

"When Danny and I were at An's office I managed to get into her safe," Steve remembered, "Try typing just Billy's name," he suggested.

Catherine typed in the five letters and the program beeped a successful message, "Nice one," she praised Steve's help, "I know there's the whole part where she accidently shot and killed him, but I blame that more on Lawson than her. I have a feeling An was actually a really good match for Billy," she remarked, "I think she loved him."

"If only things had worked out differently," Steve could hear the thwap-thwap-thwap of the HPD chopper outside, "Cath, bomb squad is here, do you think you've got it?"

"I…" she shrugged, looking down at Evan who'd fallen asleep again in his poopy diaper, "I'm about ninety-eight percent sure."

He chuckled, "I'll take your ninety-eight percent any day."

Hours passed as she stayed in the HQ command center with Evan. She finally changed his diaper, feeling guilty and worried he'd end up with horrible diaper rash. Catherine had nursed him on the black sofa in Steve's office, remembering the morning they'd had sex on that sofa and blushing even though no one else but her infant son was there. Now she held Evan against her chest, pacing back and forth and around the command table. "Where are they, nugget?"

When the side door opened she just about jumped out of her skin.

Steve looked weary but relieved as he wrapped his arms around her and Evan and buried his face against her shoulder.

She held on to him for a long time as the others trailed in around them, each of them giving Cath a grateful pat on the shoulder for all her help in their rescue. Chin and Kono slipped into their offices while Danny waved a silent good-bye and ducked out again nearly as quickly as he'd entered, most likely headed home to see and hug Grace. "I know you planned this," Catherine finally said as they separated by just a few inches.

"Excuse me?" Steve kissed Evan's forehead several times in quick succession, delighting in the toothless grin the baby flashed him.

"This was all a setup," she declared.

He blinked, "You think I walked myself into a building that nearly blew up on purpose?" Steve was confused by her accusation, "You feeling alright, Cath?"

"No, I don't think you knew about the bomb ahead of time or…" her head shook, brushing past that bit of the situation, "I think you sucked me into helping you because you want to prove what an asset I'd be to the Five-0 team," she concluded.

He smiled despite how crazy she sounded, "That would've been a pretty elaborate plan for me to come up with. I almost wish I had. But the truth is you're the only one I thought about calling because I knew you'd come through for me and the team. So, yeah, you'd be a hell of an asset to us. I've already told you that without the threat of a bomb. But I know you'd rather stick to gardening, so…" he shrugged.

"Can I think about it?"

"Gardening?" he grinned, "Sure."

She slapped his shoulder, "You know what I meant. The job."

"You can take all the time you need," he held her close again, kissing her on the neck just below her right ear.

"Let's get married," she whispered.

Steve pulled back a little to look her in the eye, "I thought we already made that plan."

"I mean soon," she clarified, "Today… no, that's probably too soon. It's late and…" Catherine realized she was rambling, "How about New Year's Day?"

"That's two days from now, Catherine. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and the following day is New Year's," he overly explained, "Don't you need to plan something special? Flowers, cake, find the perfect…" he stopped himself from saying dress, "Whatever sort of thing you want to wear?"

Catherine shrugged, "I could wear anything, I don't care about that. And we already have a great backyard with ocean view for the very small ceremony I have in mind. My parents are still here. Doris and Mary are here. What else do we need?"

"Marriage license," his practical side reared up.

"Right," she realized, "We need blood tests. Max could do that for us, right? He's already got our DNA on everything."

"No blood test required in Hawaii," Steve responded, "All we need to do is apply in person, first floor of the health department building, sixty dollars cash, no waiting period. We'll each need two valid issued IDs. Your identification status isn't quite back on track despite Max's revoked death certificate. Could be some red tape, but I can talk to the Governor. He still owes me a favor, or maybe I owe him one…" he couldn't recall, "Not sure, but I can get this sorted if you're serious."

She smiled, "How is it that you know so much about Hawaii marriage requirements?"

"There was a case," he shrugged, "How about an officiate?"

"Navy chaplain," Catherine suggested, "Not sure if he'd be available on such short notice, though."

"Might be able to call in another favor there," Steve realized as he looked her in the eye, "Are we really going to do this in two days?"

Catherine nodded, "If we can."

000

"Not tired?" he asked, propped on one elbow in bed, facing her. His other hand massaged her t-shirt covered waist.

Marriage plans were pretty much distant thoughts by the time they'd arrived home. And nearly an hour after getting Evan to bed neither one of them had fallen asleep.

Her head shook, "Over tired. And afraid I might wake up," Catherine rested her hand atop his at her hip.

"This isn't a dream, Catherine," Steve spoke softly as he noticed Trooper's head lift from her spot curled up beside the portable crib. The dog glanced around, seeming to make sure everything was alright, "Lawson is locked up, I'm safe, and you agreed to marry me," he summed up the last few days, "You're right, feels like a dream," Steve concluded.

She closed her eyes, but they opened again after just a few minutes.

Steve smiled, kissing her bare shoulder where the oversized t-shirt she was wearing had slipped down, "I know you missed sex when you were on that ship, you wrote it in your journal." He watched her brow rise, "Forgot about that, huh?" he chuckled, his hand at her hip trailing down along her thigh, "And I remember what you said to me the night we met, about always sleeping blissfully after sex. So… maybe we could go out to the garage and fool around in the back of my dad's Mercury?" he suggested.

"Do you mean sex?" Catherine coyly teased him.

"Yes, sex is what I was getting at," his lips pressed a warm kiss against her neck, "And we were interrupted Christmas night."

"We were," she swallowed, feeling her body easily react to his.

"So?"

"So…"

He lightly touched his lips against hers, "How much did you miss sex?"

"A lot," Catherine freely admitted, even as she felt an odd sensation take hold of her, "Did you ever… you know…"

"What?" he stopped his hand from traveling further south.

She bit her lip, "Have sex while I was gone?"

His eyes narrowed, wondering why she was asking that question, "Who would I have…" he felt a little sick thinking about the topic.

"I don't know, I was dead, so…" Catherine sighed, "I wouldn't have blamed you for finding someone else to comfort you."

"No, Catherine… no," Steve rested his chin against her shoulder, closing his eyes for a second, "There was no one else," he insisted, "Well, I mean other than myself a few times," he admitted, "There was no one," Steve further insisted, "There'll never be anyone else."

"But if I was dead for real?" she couldn't seem to let it go.

"Really?" he questioned, leaning back more firmly on his elbow again as he looked down at her, "Are we really having this conversation right now? How did my suggestion of fooling around lead to you pushing me off on some other woman who I don't even know or want to know?"

Catherine knew he wasn't upset, but she could hear a note of frustration in his tone, "I'm just saying if I was really dead? Your mom moved on, she has Mick…"

"Ugh," he groaned, rolling onto his back, hands covering his eyes, "Now you've completely killed my mood."

Her arm slid across his broad chest as she cuddled up beside him again, "Sorry," Catherine whispered, her thoughts still a bit scattered, "I told Chin the other day that I hated the thought of you moving on with someone else, but now I think that was pretty selfish of me. If I was dead I'd want you to find someone to be happy with. Say, if I died in five years, you'd find another woman right? Evan would need a mom and you'd…"

"No," Steve spoke defiantly, "You're Evan's mom and if… jeez," he sighed, "I don't want to talk about you being dead anymore, but if you were I'd probably become a monk."

She laughed softly, "That I seriously doubt, you like sex too much."

"With you, Cath," he insisted, "You made me a one woman man. Okay? Are we done with the death talk now?"

"Yes, we're done," she caressed his chest and allowed her hand to venture toward the waistband of his black boxer briefs, "And I have a pretty good feeling I might be able to get your mood back into working order," Catherine said as her fingers breached the top band.

"Um, yeah… that is a very… very good method," Steve sucked in a breath, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head as he enjoyed the familiar feel of her touch, "So, what is the most fun you've ever had with your pants off?" he asked, remembering how she'd joked about Evan's birth.

Catherine licked her lips, "Hmm, first time with you in that Coronado hotel on the beach," she grinned, "And the second time when we stayed at that bed and breakfast in Florida while visiting Freddie," her hand was cruelly retracted, working its way back up his chest, "And my most favorite time without pants…" she grinned, "Maybe in about a half hour?"

"A half hour?" he reared up and straddled her, pinning her against the mattress, one hand on either side of her shirt, tugging it upward as he kissed her neck again, "You've been gone almost a year, Catherine. You're gonna be lucky if I make it three minutes."

He had her t-shirt up past her waist when she halted his actions, "Wait."

"Wait?" he panted with anticipation.

"Evan…" she managed to squeak out the baby's name.

Steve glanced over his shoulder to peek at the baby in the crib, "Is asleep," he reported.

"I know but…" Catherine hoped he wouldn't hate her for what she was about to say, "He might hear us."

"You're killing me here, Cath," Steve's head flopped forward and he took a few deep breaths, "Killing me…" he reluctantly extracted himself from his kneeling position above her. Steve rolled off the bed and stood with some difficulty. He took several more deep breaths before leaning over the portable crib, "Okay, champ, because you have a very neurotic mommy who believes you have super-duper baby hearing. I hate to do this to you, but…" Steve released the wheel safety lever and gently rolled the crib into the hallway.

The dog, curious about what was going on, followed them into the hall. "Trooper, you stay out here and watch him," Steve looked down at the boy again and grinned, "Sweet dreams, son," he whispered before re-entering their bedroom and closing the door almost all the way. He left a small crack to be able to check on the baby.

Catherine was laughing when he returned to their bed, "Trooper has got to be the calmest Labrador I've ever known," she remarked as he crawled across the bed toward her.

"Yes, she's a very good dog…" Steve tackled her against the mattress, "I just banished our son out into the hallway and you wanna talk about the dog now?"

"No, I don't want to talk about the dog," her head shook as their lips met in a passionately needful union, "But," she panted between kisses, "Steve, I…" Catherine hated how hesitant she sounded when that wasn't her intention, "Uh, things might be a little different," she finally managed to get out.

"Different?" he paused, confused again, "Different how?"

"I don't know," she chewed her lip, "When I saw my doctor a few weeks ago she said everything was fine and that sex was perfectly okay, but I did push a nearly eight pound baby out of my body a few months ago, so… this is new territory."

He smiled, nodding, "So we take it slow," he offered, "Slow is good. Slow can be very, very good. Slowest three minutes I can manage."

She chuckled again, "Do you have any idea how much I love you, sailor?" Catherine asked.

"I'm hoping you're about to finally show me," he eagerly replied.

000

Her back was pressed against the uncomfortable plywood sheathed wall. A slight hum from the water cooler beside her filled the air.

It was dark out.

It had been dark by the time they were pulled from the rubble. Now it was well past midnight.

A small patch of charcoal sky could be seen through the window across from where she sat in the Intel outpost building. Three tiny sparks of light twinkled against the horizon. She'd stood outside many nights starring up at the expansive Afghan night sky over Bagram, no tall buildings to block the view. But after the day's events she could barely enjoy those pinpricks of ancient light. Instead, she listened as a plane took off and another one landed. Catherine let her tears fall as those aircraft rumbled overhead.

She closed her eyes and tried to forget, but her mind wouldn't let her - wouldn't shut down.

The door opened and closed. Catherine knew his footsteps as well as she knew her own.

"Is this bit of floor taken or can I join you?" Steve asked.

"You can join me," she offered.

He managed to find a semi-comfortable position as his sore shoulder rested against hers, "How you doing?"

"Not so good," Catherine sniffed, "I saw a little boy die today so… Parwan province is meant to be a secure area. They pushed the Taliban out of here in 2001. Attacks like this aren't supposed to happen here," she tried to make sense of it, "Maybe the occasional grenade lobed at government offices or road side bombings, but not some random, innocent restaurant owner. Unless it wasn't random at all. What if someone's been watching me? They knew I frequented Fahran's place and the junk shop, and maybe…"

"You think those bombers were targeting Fahran's place because of you?" Steve shook his head.

"Someone's been trying to breach the information I've been collecting on this Taliban faction," she shrugged.

"Catherine, Fahran could've had some sordid connections we know nothing about," he tried to tread lightly, knowing the man had been a friend, "You can't blame yourself. I know seeing Bahnam's dead body couldn't have been easy for you, and I'm sorry for that. But you can't blame yourself."

She sniffed, wiping her eyes against the camouflage sleeve of her clean uniform, "That's what I've been trying to convince myself of for the last three hours, it's not helping," she looked over at him, "I'm sitting here crying my eyes out feeling like maybe Kaube is right to think women are too emotional or too weak to be in the military."

"You don't really believe that," his words were calm, trying to comfort her.

"No, I guess not," Catherine sniffed again, "But look at you, you seem fine other than a dislocated shoulder. You saw Bahnam's dead body and you're not crying."

"I didn't know Bahnam or his father like you and Amy did," Steve pointed out. "And I guess I've also gotten pretty good at blocking things like that out, compartmentalizing. I've learned to wake up out here and expect the worst."

Her nose scrunched as she tried to stave off more tears, "Isn't that an awful outlook to have? Don't you ever hope for anything? An end to this war? A real conversation with your sister? Being back on Oahu, hanging out in your dad's garage helping him fix his old car? Going fishing with Freddie again in Florida?"

"Hoping for that kind of stuff," he sighed, "It's too dangerous out here for that sort of thinking. At least it is for me."

"Well…" a whoosh of breath escaped her lips as she leaned her head against the wall, "I hope I can finish this assignment and get back to the Enterprise as soon as I wrap it up. Never thought I'd actually miss that ship, but it feels more like home than anything."

Steve looked out the window at the stars, "Nothing comes close to the beaches of Oahu for me."

"I wish I had that," she whispered, "A place I could think of as home."

He turned to face her, one hand resting against the back of her neck where he knew that star tattoo resided. Steve silently allowed his lips to touch hers, his eyes closing as she gave into him. Catherine felt her body react to him, the same as it always did, willing and wanting. She held his face, drowning in the aching desire shooting throughout her body. But duty reared its faithful head, causing her to pull away, "Steve, we can't… we shouldn't, not here."

His forehead rested against hers, knowing she was right. In the years they'd known each other they'd never broken Regs for one another, not in the way they'd almost just done.

"It's not what you think, what you said before…" Steve whispered, still holding her close, "It's not just a matter of not wanting to get attached, Catherine, it's… you think I'm not attached? I've eaten your mom's cooking and watched videos of you ice skating with your father. And if the enemy walked up to me right now and said I could trade my life in exchange for you being allowed to live, there'd be no hesitation in my answer of yes," he expressed.

"And I'd do the same for you," she replied.

Steve sat back, dropping his hands away from her, "But it's just not fair to you to… to ask you to sit around and wait for me. This is my life, I'm a SEAL first, the only easy day for me is yesterday," he recited their well-known battle cry, "And I doubt that'll ever change. You should be with someone who can give you more than I can. There are a lot of guys who'd be lucky to have you in their life, make your mom happy and settle down with you, have a couple kids."

Her head shook at him, "You think that's what I do, sit around pinning for you? Waiting for you?" Catherine didn't know if he was telling her the truth or some version of it that would make it easier for him to walk away. But she didn't really care at the moment, "I guess you don't know me at all, do you?" she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying in front of him or risking anyone on base seeing her tears. Catherine jumped to her feet, "I'm an idiot, and I should go." She headed toward the door before he could even stand.

"Cath, wait, we still have to find a way to…" he sighed, watching her walk away, "Work together."

000

The shopping center was still adorned with holiday décor. Festive wreaths made out of bright red tropical flowers and fern greenery.

Catherine sat in the courtyard at a white metal table, baby Evan reclined on her lap. He happily sucked her left index finger, not seeming to mind the bustling shopping center. Grace was sitting across from them enjoying her cherry-lime shaved ice, "Thanks for inviting me today," the girl smiled.

"Are you kidding," Catherine grinned, using a plastic spoon to steal a bit of the girl's treat, "Of course I need my flower girl here to help consult on what to wear."

Grace wore a dubious look, "I think I'm too old to be a flower girl," she said.

"Is there a rule book?" Catherine asked.

The girl shrugged, "I don't know," she giggled, watching as Evan reached for Catherine's plastic spoon.

"My wedding, my rules," she decided, "If you want to be a flower girl you can. And if you think that's too much of a little girl's job then we'll find some other way for you to be part of the ceremony," Catherine offered. "It's not going to be very fancy, just something simple."

Taking another bite of her shaved ice, Grace's eyes lit. "I think I have an idea, but… could it be a surprise?"

Still hating surprises, Catherine made an exception for the girl, "Okay," she nodded in agreement, before her attention was diverted by the approach of two other young women.

The older of the two teenagers stood by as Wendy practically flung herself at Catherine, "I still can't believe you're alive," Wendy said as she pulled out of the quick hug, "We watched some news reports about you and what happened, but when you called this morning it was so real and weird."

"You think it's weird?" she scoffed, a little concerned by Molly's silent treatment, "Ladies, this is my niece, Gracie," Catherine noticed how Grace beamed proudly to be introduced as her niece, "And I'd like you both to meet Evan," Catherine pulled her finger from his mouth and held him with his back against her chest, one arm around his tummy, his slender toes pressed against her thighs, "I bet you can't believe I'm a mom," she kept one eye on Molly, remembering how the teenager used to tease her by calling her mom.

"Can I hold him?" Wendy asked.

"Sure," Catherine easily handed him over.

"He's adorable," Wendy sat down with the baby on her lap, grinning as Evan reached up trying to grasp her earrings. "I'm available to babysit anytime," she offered.

"Maybe," Catherine was still leery about letting the boy out of her sight for very long. She and Steve hadn't even talked about going away on an actual honeymoon of any sort. "Molly, I don't think I've ever known you to be this quiet, what's up?"

Wendy eyed her sister worriedly, "She's not happy I dragged her along today."

"I should go," Molly finally spoke, "I can pick you up later, Wen, just call me," she said to her sister before turning to leave.

"Molly, hang on a second," Catherine jumped up and followed her several feet away from the table before she finally stepped in front of the young woman. "Is everything okay?" she asked, "Are you mad at me about what happened?" She remembered how the girls had opened up to her a little about losing their mom at a young age. "I'm really sorry I was gone for a while. I hope you know I never meant to hurt…" Catherine was cut off by the way Molly wrapped both arms around her, "You," she concluded.

The teenager took a step back and tried to covertly wipe a tear from her eye, "You know I like to give you a hard time and all, but you were the first person who's ever really stuck with me and thinking that I'd lost you…" the girl let her tear fall, "I'm really sorry about Billy. I still can't believe the way I came on to him last year. I was such an idiot," she realized.

"You're young," Catherine offered, "Makes you do stupid stuff."

"Can I use that excuse for why I haven't been doing very well in school this year?" Molly wondered, "Just found out I failed a few classes fall semester, so I won't be able to graduate with the rest of my class because I'll have to take summer school, which completely sucks."

Catherine put an arm around the girl's shoulders and guided her back to the table, "I could help you study," she offered, "What subjects?"

"History and biology," Molly rolled her eyes.

"Two of my favorites," Catherine smiled encouragingly.

"You don't have to, but thanks for the offer," Molly plopped down into a chair next to her sister and glanced at the baby, "Gross, doesn't that thing have some sort of drain?" she asked, noticing her sister's drool covered hand, "It's leaking," Molly actually shuttered.

Grace laughed, "Babies drool a lot," the girl pointed out. "Wait till he starts teething, my little brother was a mess."

"Do I know you?" Molly eyed the girl.

"I'm Grace, remember?" she actually extended her hand, "Catherine is my auntie. Well, not by blood, but she and my uncle Steve are my two favorite people aside from my blood family. They're the coolest, and Evan is sweet. He's a baby, by the way, not a thing."

"Nice to meet you, Grace," Molly actually cracked a small smile for the girl, "But you should know I'm not the nicest person, and I don't like babies. They are way too small and squirmy and…" she made a disgusted face, "If it starts crying I'm out of here."

"I'm with Grace, I think he's sweet," Wendy grinned, holding the baby a little closer to her sister.

"Do not do that," Molly pushed away from them. She caught Catherine's roll of the eyes, "Sorry, you I actually like but he's going to need to be at least out of diapers before I give him the time of day," she honestly conveyed. The teenager caught sight of something across the shopping center's courtyard, "Crap, are you kidding me…" Molly stood.

"What?" Catherine glanced over her shoulder and spotted a man with a camera snapping pictures. "Think he's here for you guys, or me?"

Molly shrugged, "I don't know, but I'm about to go beat his ass."

"Hey," Catherine shot the girl a warning look, "Watch your language around the kiddos," she nodded toward Grace and Evan. "And stand down," she ordered the girl. "Today is about fun stuff only. I'm going to ignore that camera man and I suggest you do the same." Catherine pointed to the chair Molly had just vacated, "Sit," she ordered.

The teenager sulked on her way back down to the chair, "Why did you bother teaching us all those self-defense moves if we can't use them? There was a guy in my history class who wouldn't stop bothering me last semester, so I might've used that little flip over the back move on him one afternoon."

"This the reason why you failed History?" Catherine wondered.

"I kind of got suspended for two weeks so that probably didn't help the history grade," Molly shrugged.

"Will you teach me self-defense?" Grace asked Catherine.

Catherine quirked her lips to one side in though, "Maybe. We'll have to ask your dad first."

"I'll ask him," Grace wasn't at all daunted by that obstacle. "After I punched that kid in school he said we had to have a talk about self-defense and all that, but we haven't yet."

"Wait a sec," Molly eyed Grace, "You punched some kid?"

"I was defending a friend," she nodded.

Molly grinned, "Way to go."

"Maybe we shouldn't be encouraging such behavior," Catherine lightly warned as she aimed her focus on Molly. She watched the teenager roll her eyes, "I know, I sound like a mom, right?" she guessed what the girl was thinking, "Believe it or not I once beat up a girl in high school for picking on this really shy girl I'd made friends with. My mother told me that using my words to fight back would've been a better choice, but Joyce Howard never made fun of anyone else after I bloodied her nose."

"I knew there was some cool inside of you somewhere," Molly smiled.

"So, after summer school and graduation, then what?" Catherine asked, trying to get away from talk of fighting.

"Um, not sure. I think maybe college but I have no idea what to study," Molly admitted. "My dad wants to teach me the recording business but I keep trying to tell him it's not for me. I want to do something, I don't know, more meaningful I guess. But with my general distrust and dislike of most people I figure that might be tough. I sure as heck can't be a teacher because," she waved a hand at Evan, "Kids," she shuddered again. "And social work is just so… social."

Catherine smiled, "Give it a year or two; you don't have to decide right away, you're still young. You should have a little fun while you can," she encouraged.

"Did you know what you were going to do when you were my age?" Molly asked.

"I knew I wanted to join the Navy by the time I was ten," Catherine nodded as she took Evan from Wendy.

"Must be nice," the eighteen year old sighed.

"The shops have been open for a while now, are we waiting for someone else?" Wendy asked.

"Kono is picking up my mom at the hotel," Catherine let them know, "And Doris and Mary should be here soon, too. We can hang out until then."

"So what sort of wedding dress are you thinking about?" Grace asked.

"Not sure I want a dress," she revealed.

Wendy looked shocked, "You have to get married in a dress."

Molly elbowed her sister, "Get a grip, Wen. This isn't the cave people era. She can wear whatever she wants," the older girl reached for something in her red leather purse, "And when you find that perfect something, be it a dress or whatever…" Molly brandished a credit card, "We're paying for it."

"No, you're not," Catherine shook her head; "I can't let you do that, it's too much."

"That's why I have dad's platinum card," Molly responded, "Do you have any idea what kind of limit this thing has on it?"

Catherine sighed, "Please tell me you didn't steal that from your father's wallet."

The teenager scoffed, "Glad you think so little of me," she replied, "Wendy talked to dad about it this morning and he agreed that it was a great idea. Right, Wen?" the younger girl nodded, "See, Wendy's the good girl, she wouldn't lie to you. And you can even call him if you want," Molly turned to face Grace, "How about you, you getting a new dress?"

Grace shrugged, "Danno said I could. But I don't really need one."

"This is a wedding," Molly countered, "You always need a new dress for a wedding. And you'll be what, like the flower girl or something, right?"

"Something like that," Grace nodded, still keeping her plan a secret.

"You can be a flower girl, too, if you want," Catherine teased the older girl, "We can get you a cute gingham dress and a flower crown."

Molly shook her head, "You're not funny."

"Obviously I was kidding," she chuckled, "But you two will be there for the wedding, won't you? I know you usually go to New York with your dad."

"We asked if we could miss the Times Square gig this year," Molly revealed, "He agreed and flew out last night, right after giving us this beauty," she held the platinum card up again.

Wendy snatched it from her sister's hand, "Can you not flash that thing around," she scolded her older sister.

Grace chuckled, amused by their interaction, "I thought my little brother and I were a handful together, but you two are crazy."

Molly glared at the younger girl for a moment, "Thanks for the compliment," she finally replied, "I think I might like you, even if you are a kid."

"That mean you want to hold the baby," Catherine offered again, "He's super sweet."

"Must take after Steve then," Molly joked, head shaking, "And that's still a no…" she sniffed, "Besides, I think he sprang a different sort of leak," Molly pinched her nose.

Catherine tenderly kissed Evan's chubby cheek before strapping him in his carrier and swinging the diaper bag over her left shoulder. "I'm going to change him in the restroom," she decided, "Grace, you want to come with or stay here with Molly and Wendy?"

"Um," the girl eyed Molly warily.

"Promise I won't bite if you stay," Molly shrugged.

With that assurance, Grace smiled, "Stay?" she asked, thinking it would be cool to hang out with the older girls.

"Okay," Catherine agreed, eyeing the teenagers, "You don't let her out of your sight."

"Got it," Molly gave a mock salute.

"I mean it," she warned before turning to leave.

000

She pushed the door open, sucking in a breath and preparing to face him.

Catherine entered the room and spotted Dagger and Flank at work, neither of them even bothering to look up. Her eyes tried not to fall upon Steve's work station, but the building was too small for that level of avoidance since she had to walk right past it. The second she glanced his way Catherine realized he wasn't sitting in front of the computer, but someone else was. A man, roughly the same height, dark hair, dressed in his Navy camouflage work uniform.

"Excuse me, but who the hell are you?" she asked.

The man looked up and turned his head, brown eyes finding hers. He was definitely not Steve.

He stood and wore a smile, "Lieutenant Commander Harrington," his response was much less military strict than regulation, and he stood there for a moment searching her face for some sort of reaction. "I'm sorry; I thought you were informed about the change. The orders for this assignment with a member of the SEAL team that captured Rafiq got mixed up. I was meant to be here all along, not commander McGarrett."

"You were on McGarrett's team?" Catherine realized.

Billy nodded with a look of admiration, "Great guy. I'd follow his command any day," he asserted with respect.

"Where is Ste… where's Commander McGarrett now?"

"Flew out first thing this morning, about a half hour after I arrived," Harrington informed her, "Not sure where he was headed next, said he wouldn't know until he landed."

Her stomach ached, realizing how much she already missed him. Even his ridiculous comment about her waiting around for him couldn't stop her from worrying about him. She tried to think about her assignment and focus on the new SEAL sent to help her. But before she could brief him her eyes fell upon a picture propped against the computer monitor, "That something you brought?" Catherine was curious about the flowery card, an irrational part of her wishing it was something Steve had left for her.

"Always carry this with me," Billy snatched up the cardstock, "It's a postcard I sent my dad years ago. I was six and my mom took me to Amsterdam to meet her extended family, she was born there. Best trip…" he trailed off, "Mom died a few years after that. She loved yellow tulips," he smiled at the image of a field of yellow tulips, cliché windmill in the background. "I keep it close to remember her," he said, putting the card back on his plywood desk.

"That's sweet," she flashed a half smile.

"Did you know tulips originated in Persia?" he asked.

"I did not," Catherine almost laughed to think how different he seemed from Steve, "I should bring you up to speed, Commander," she was sobered by thoughts of never seeing Steve again. It still irked her to no end that he thought she was wasting her life waiting for him, "I was never waiting for you."

"I'm sorry?"

Catherine looked to Harrington again, realizing she'd let the words slip, "No, I… not you… sorry, Commander Harrington."

"If you don't mind," he ventured, "I prefer Billy."

She nodded even though her feelings were still scattered. But the job had to come first, "Nice to meet you, Billy. I'm Catherine. Do you know anything about codes?" she quickly resumed work, needing the distraction to take her mind off Steve.

"Not really, but willing to learn," Billy replied.

"Good," she leaned over his shoulder as he faced the computer, "McGarrett was dragging his feet on this part so we never got very far, but we really need to keep this data as secure as possible. I'm no cryptologist but I'd like to teach you a fairly simple code known as a Caesar cypher. It comes in handy when Taliban hackers are trying to get into your records."

Billy nodded, "Teach away," he offered.

"So, basically you start with a designated number…"

000

Evan lay on his back against the plastic drop-down changing table.

She'd cleaned his bottom but was waiting for his delicate skin to dry fully before re-diapering. He kicked his legs in the air, enjoying the freedom of being naked, "Are you a little exhibitionist, nugget?" Catherine asked him, caressing his soft shoulder, "You're being so good today. I know shopping for girl clothes is probably not high on your list of priorities. I'm sure you'd rather be splashing your tootsies in the water with daddy, huh?"

He gazed up at her with a happy smile, reaching for the hair that hung over her shoulder.

"Maybe if you didn't have such a worry-wart mommy you could be home with daddy right now," she bent over and kissed his belly.

The door opened behind her and Catherine jumped.

"Take it easy," Molly stood behind her, "You okay?" she asked, "Normally people don't get frightened by a public restroom door opening. Anyone can use these, you know."

"I was just distracted," Catherine replied, feeling a little more on edge than she cared to admit. The last few days had definitely taken a toll and she wondered if throwing a wedding on top of everything was the smartest move.

Molly nodded slowly, "Let me guess," she peeked at the baby, "You were distracted my his Royal Highness, Prince McGarrett of Cutedom?"

"What are you doing in here?" Catherine asked with a pointed look.

"What most people do in bathrooms, I need to pee," the girl announced.

Catherine groaned at the teenager's sarcasm, wondering if she'd been just as bad at Molly's age, "But I specifically told you not to leave Grace."

"Grace is fine, she's with the responsible sister. And the only shot at a babysitter you've got out of the two of us," Molly reminded her, "Those two started talking about something called the Hunger Games and now they're all buddy-buddy. Sounded like kind of brutal stuff, though," she shrugged, "When they got into a debate about which guy this Katniss chick should be with, Gale or Peeta… I knew I needed to escape," Molly shuddered, "And you seriously need to chill a little. You're getting married tomorrow, jittery brides are cliché."

She took a deep breath, "Actually, you're right, I do need to chill."

Molly slipped into one of the stalls, quickly did her business and was washing her hands when she noticed how Catherine gently fastened the baby's diaper and pulled his navy blue onesie outfit back into place, snapping each button as she smiled down at the boy. Molly dried her hands and leaned against the wall, "You're really good with him."

"Guess it's a mom thing," Catherine was appreciative of the girl's comment.

"I am never getting married or having kids," Molly shook her head.

Catherine laughed, realizing how very much the girl seemed like a younger version of herself, "Now, I need you to watch him while I pee," she settled the baby into his car seat and buckled him up for safety, "And this time I mean it, your eyes do not leave him for a second."

"No way," Molly's whole body tensed, "I told you I'm not good with kids."

"Moll, nothing is going to happen in the two minutes it takes me to pee," Catherine tried to ease the girl's apprehension as she snuck into a stall and closed the door.

"I don't have to touch him, right?" the teenager called out.

"Nope, just watch him," Catherine reiterated.

Molly glanced down at the baby, "Your realize your mom is over-protective," she whispered, "I'm already feeling sorry for when you start to test your independence."

"I can still hear you," Catherine called out.

"I know," the girl replied.

Catherine listened as the teenager whispered something else to the baby, but this time she couldn't make it out as the main door opened and closed with a metal on metal squeak. She kept quiet knowing Molly would probably be mortified if someone overheard them talking through the stall. Catherine listened to footsteps outside her stall. Then a faucet turned on and ran for a while as she tore off a length of toilet paper. The water kept running as Catherine finished up and flushed.

When she emerged from the stall, Catherine looked over to where she'd left Evan.

Her heart settled a little when she saw him there. Molly had her back pressed against the wall, arms folded over her chest, starring at the boy who was looking up at her.

An older woman was at the facet trying to get a dark stain out of her white blouse, running the water continuously.

After washing her hands, Catherine lifted Evan and the diaper bag. She and Molly exited the restroom and had just rounded the corner when they ran right into someone. Catherine jumped again, this time nearly losing her grip on Evan's carrier. As soon as she recognized the person standing in front of her, Catherine sighed with relief, "Jeez, Danny," her heart was still thumping, a whoosh-whoosh echoing in her head, "You scared me."

"Sorry…" he spoke softly.

"Danny, what are you doing here?" Catherine noticed that Grace was clinging to her dad's side. Wendy was hovering nervously behind them, "I told you when I picked Grace up that I'd have her back before dinner."

He nodded, "No, yeah, that's fine, I…"

"What's wrong? Where's Steve?" she immediately knew something was amiss by the way he seemed fidgety.

The detective rubbed Grace's shoulder protectively, "I've been trying to call and text you for about a half hour," he told Catherine.

"My phone went dead just about the time we got here," she told him, "I've been so distracted lately I didn't realize, it's charging in the truck," Catherine was almost distracted enough to forget how worried she was that Steve wasn't with his partner, "Danny, tell me what's going on."

"Maybe nothing," the detective shrugged, his free hand gesturing to the air, "Steve called me just after you picked Grace up. He mentioned something about a special project he wanted my help with for the wedding. We were supposed to meet at your place around noon but when I showed up he wasn't home. I knew you had the truck so I checked the garage, Mercury's not there. I've called his cell several times and it keeps going straight to voice mail."

She clung to the obvious first, "You track GPS on his phone?"

Danny nodded, "Signal is dead. I thought maybe he killed it on purpose so you wouldn't know where we were for this surprise thing he had planned. He told me how much you hate surprises," the man sighed, "But he hasn't called me back and now I'm worried." When his cell phone rang a second later Danny barely glanced at the screen before answering, "Come on, babe, way to scare a person. You've got me here freaking Catherine out for no good reason," he blasted his friend.

There was a long pause before the person on the other line spoke.

With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Danny handed the phone to Catherine without a word.

"Steve?" she couldn't tell if Danny was trying to play a trick on her or what, but she wasn't amused, gripping Evan's car seat for dear life.

"He's okay for now," the voice on the other end replied.

The woman's tone was calm and familiar to her, "An? What's going on?" Catherine demanded. "Where is Steve? What've you done to him?"

"I just told you he's fine," the woman reiterated, "And if you want him to stay that way I need a favor. I helped you on the ship for months and now it's time for you to help me, Catherine," she insisted with a tone that never wavered, "I sent you Lawson as a gift, but you haven't gotten him to talk yet."

Her head shook, "And do you know what Lawson did yesterday? He sent Steve and the rest of Five-0 into that death trap of yours," Catherine tried to remain civil, still trying to believe the woman was on her side, "Lawson isn't going to do anything you want, An," she tried to reason with her. Catherine could see Danny's curious eyes aimed at her, but she didn't want to put An on speaker with the girls able to overhear.

"Then you better hope he does what you want," An replied.

"And what do I want?" Catherine was finally growing annoyed.

"You want to help me like I helped you," An repeated, "Which means you need to get Lawson to talk, to tell you what he's done with my parents. And when he tells you where they are and I know that they'd safe, you get Steve back," she concluded, "That's a very simple plan, simpler than what we had to do to trick Wo Fat."

Catherine did her best not to lose it, "I can't do that for you, An, I… I wish I could," she sighed, "Lawson won't talk to me. I tried, but he got to me."

"I believe you're stronger than he is," An insisted, "That's why it has to be you. You have to try again. The last time I was left alone with him he convinced me to shoot Steve, and I ended up killing the man I loved," her voice trembled, "My parents took me in as a baby, they raised me, loved me, and I threw that away because I wanted to know what my real family was like. But they are my real family, my parents. Please help me find them. I don't want to hurt Steve this time either, but I will unless you come through."

The line went dead.

"What do we do?" Danny asked, having guessed Steve's predicament given her side of the conversation.

Danny's question sparked the memory of something Steve had said to her several years ago. "If the enemy walked up to me right now and said I could trade my life in exchange for you being allowed to live, there'd be no hesitation in my answer of yes."

"I turn myself over to the enemy," Catherine didn't hesitate.

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To be continued…