You Owe Me

by njborba

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

17. Chapter 17

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

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You Owe Me
Part 17

By
N. J. Borba

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"Are we really letting her do this on her own?" Danny wondered.

The detective was in full protect mode as he glanced across the computer table in command. He looked to Chin and Kono with the worry of the world on his shoulders. His best friend was missing and now Catherine was about to step into the lion's den. Her words kept echoing in his head, "I turn myself over to the enemy." Danny knew she was tough, but remembering what Steve had told him about the last encounter she'd had with Lawson made him wonder if the benefits would outweigh the cost to her.

His gaze shifted nervously to the monitor where they could see Catherine waiting outside of Lawson's maximum security cell.

"I don't think any of us stand a better chance of getting him to talk," Chin responded, recalling the way Catherine had opened up to him. Their brief conversation on the beach that day had told him a lot about the woman, "She's strong enough to handle this," he conveyed his confidence in her.

"He's right," Kono agreed.

Danny sighed, "Okay, fine," he followed their lead, trusting in them and Catherine, "Can we all agree it's doubtful An managed to take Steve on her own?"

"We're pretty sure An was conditioned by Lawson," Kono recalled, "But she seems to have fought that conditioning in order to help Catherine when she was on the Kappa."

"There's no doubt she's conflicted," Chin added, "Catherine told us An threatened to kill Steve but prefaced it by saying she didn't want to."

"So if Steve is able to talk to her maybe An can be swayed to give this up?" Danny wondered.

"She might be more easily convinced to drop this than Lawson," Chin shrugged, "But we have to factor in that her family's on the line, and she seems to be looking to get revenge on Lawson now?" it was a question since he wasn't entirely sure about the whole An and Lawson dynamic. It was tangled, to say the least. "Could've been An who set up that building's death trap in the hopes Lawson would meet her there. Maybe that's why Lawson told Steve she'd be there. Lawson knew about it and turned the tables on her by sending Steve."

Kono picked up on that train of thought, "Then if she's trying to beat him at his own game what better than to use people loyal to him?"

"Is anyone actually loyal to this guy?" Danny's question held a great deal of doubt.

"Unlikely," Chin concurred with that assessment, "From what we can piece together, Lawson mostly has thugs working for him."

"Who he probably pays a lot," Kono chipped in.

Danny tapped a finger against the table, "Where does he find these guys? He must check them out, get dirt on them and blackmail them into helping him. Maybe we can use that to our advantage, offer them some sort of plea bargain in exchange for turning on Lawson."

"Somehow I find it unlikely they'll turn on him," Chin wasn't convinced that method would work, "Lawson might not have been completely successful in getting An to turn to his side, but you dealt with some of his men on the Kappa. Did they seem likely to back down?" he asked. When Danny's head shook, he added, "These guys are more like martyrs, trained to die on command before they'll talk. I'm not even sure money enters into it."

"Which means they probably have no family, no connections to anything that we could use to bargain with," Danny realized.

"But it's still worth a shot, isn't it?" Kono put in, "Better than any other options we have right now."

"Which leads us back to figuring out how to find these guys," Danny pointed out.

"Maybe the same way we found that Coast Guard friend of Lawson's who was helping Search and Rescue steer clear of the Kappa's location before it exploded," Chin realized. "Captain Murk never did give us Lawson's name, and the financial records showing he was being paid couldn't be tied back to Lawson or Wo Fat in any way, just dead-end offshore accounts," he recalled, "But if we want to give this a shot we need to look for areas that haven't been searched on the island."

"Grover has had teams all over," Kono replied, confident in the SWAT Captain's dedication to the job.

"I know," Chin nodded, pulling up a map, "But there's no way they've covered every inch." He took several minutes to create a search grid of the island, "Here, I've used reports filed by HPD to map out the search areas. Mostly they were concentrating up north while looking for the hideout we finally found the other day. They've had Pearl City covered since that's where Lawson's old house is. The east coast was fairly well searched due to An's house and we covered a lot of the west coast after the ship's auction."

Danny frowned, "Which leaves us with acres of forested land through the center of this island, as well as Honolulu and Waikiki - two of those being the most densely populated areas on Oahu, the other full of tree that don't have eyes or mouths to tell us if they've seen a slightly crazy woman and a super SEAL," he concluded.

"I'll contact HPD," Kono offered, "Tell them where to concentrate efforts. And I'll let all park rangers know to be on alert."

Chin pulled up another program on the computer, "Just before Catherine left for Halawa she gave me the access codes for Billy's Satellite system. I think I can program it to snap aerial shots at precise intervals over our search areas. Maybe Fong and his team can help me go over the photos with a critical eye."

"Sounds good," Danny agreed as his eyes shifted back to the monitor just in time to see Catherine enter the outer cell.

000

A tall, dark-haired security guard motioned her through the door.

Catherine clutched one item in her left hand, another in her right. She straightened her back to make sure the bag over her shoulder didn't slip down as she walked. With a deep breath she entered the dimly lit outer cell. Her eyes didn't roam the space too much, not wanting to see him just yet. The guard, whose name she knew to be Timothy, helped her carry in a comfy chair and a box she'd frantically tossed items into for fifteen minutes before leaving home. When he'd finished situating the items, the guard turned to her with concern.

"I can stay in here with you, ma'am. McGarrett would want that."

She looked down at the dog beside her. Catherine loosened her left-handed hold on Trooper's leash, allowing the yellow Labrador to sniff out their new territory.

Her gaze returned to the guard, noticing again how apprehensive he appeared. Every law enforcement officer on the island knew Steve McGarrett. And there were still many on the force who had worked with John McGarrett. But neither of the McGarrett men were legends solely because they were good cops. They were well-known and respected because they were good men, good friends and leaders. She pulled on a brave smile for the man, "No, thank you, Timothy," Catherine decided. "I'll be fine."

The man remained hesitant to leave for a moment but finally nodded, "I'll be right outside the door if you need me."

She smiled softly, grateful of his protective nature. Catherine was sure the rest of Steve's team wanted to be just outside that door as well. She spotted a camera to her right, turned to find another behind her. Catherine needed them watching from a distance. They were to be her eyes and ears, listening and watching for anything that Lawson might give away. Anything she might miss. The twelve-inch-thick solid steel door clanged shut to her left, causing a momentary wave of panic to rush over her.

"Well, nugget," Catherine glanced down at the baby in the carrier she was still holding with her right hand. "Let's get comfy," she concluded, drawing strength from her son.

But setting the carrier down on the hard concrete floor caused Catherine more trepidation. Bringing her son to a place that reminded her of being trapped on Lawson's ship caused her a great deal of worry. Catherine was afraid Evan might somehow sense what was going on. But she was more worried that maybe she was using her baby boy as a protective shield against a monster. She tried to stuff those thoughts aside while removing the duffle bag from over her shoulder.

From the large duffle she pulled out a blue yoga mat and rolled it out across the floor.

Over the top of one end of the yoga mat she spread the baby quilt her mother had given Evan; a log cabin pattern of mint green, ocean blue and snowy white fabrics.

She freed her son from the carrier and positioned him on his belly atop the quilt. "Just like tummy time at home," Catherine spoke to the boy in a whisper, running a hand over his fluffy head of hair and down his back, hoping to reassure him that nothing was amiss. Except that everything was wrong. One minute she'd actually been allowing herself to relax, to think about a wedding, maybe even a dress. The next she was hit by the reality that An had somehow gotten to Steve.

"I see you've finally given in to the fact that you've missed me," Lawson made his presence known, walking out of the shadows toward the glass.

Catherine ignored him, though it was difficult to do so. She sat down on the end of the yoga mat across from Evan. For a long time she just watched the boy, amazed by how he lifted his chest a little with both arms. His head was still a little wobbly as he tried to look at the different colors and patterns on the quilt. Catherine took a deep breath and closed her eyes, knowing Trooper would alert her if anything was wrong with the baby. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to find some focus.

"This certainly doesn't seem like regulation," Lawson spoke to her again, "I think there are rules against this sort of thing, setting up camp outside a prisoner's cell. It's no place for a baby. You should take the poor boy home where he belongs."

She did everything in her power to tune the man out. Her legs folded inward, feet crossed over her knees. Catherine thought about when she was growing up and how they'd called it sitting Indian style. But she'd recently read that schools had dropped that saying a while back for the more PC version of sitting crisscross apple sauce. She actually smiled at that thought, her mind wandering down the years to when Evan would start school.

Lawson studied her, "What's making you smile, child?" he asked. "You must be here for a reason, and I can't imagine it's a good one."

Her future vision of Evan going off to kindergarten faded as she continued to try drowning Lawson out with other thoughts. The figure of a man took form in her mind's eye, something she was fairly certain had never happened before during her yoga focus sessions. Usually she was able to picture the ocean, an empty sandy beach with white caped waves roaring onto shore. That was her favorite meditative spot, but now she most definitely could see someone looking down at her.

Catherine realized she was lying on the sofa in their living room, her head resting against Steve's legs. His gaze aimed down, looking into her eyes as he spoke.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Nothing's wrong, I… I just don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out."

The vision lasted another few seconds, just long enough for the ghostly memory of his lips brushing against hers to remind her how serious he'd been that day. They'd coached a little league game, he'd told her to take the job with Billy, and they'd enjoyed a relaxing evening on the sofa watching TV. That day felt like a lifetime ago to her as her vision shifted again. Suddenly she was in a dimly lit space, a stuffy and smoke filled room.

She was crouched down in front of a body, the body of a little boy. "Bahnam?" Catherine whispered his name, pressing her fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse.

The boy's eyes were vacant and she knew he was gone. She was about to turn away to inform Steve, but the boy's right hand reached out to grab hers.

When she looked down again the child wasn't wearing Bahnam's face any longer. It was a man's face, and not one of Afghan decent. He had milky-white skin, nearly charcoal hair and chestnut brown eyes. Catherine thought he looked familiar, almost like a younger version of her father. Except his smile was different than her dad's had ever been; innocent and untouched by life's difficulties. She recognized the smile, one she hadn't seen in almost thirty years, "Ben?" Catherine whispered.

His grin widened as he sat up, the same sweet smile she recalled her brother flashing her as a baby.

"Hey, sis," he spoke in a warm, welcoming voice even though they were still stuck in the bombed out restaurant in Afghanistan.

"This isn't real," her head shook. "Ben, you can't be Ben. He died as a baby, you're just…"

"I am real to you," her vision of a grown-up Ben replied, "I'm real in your memory. And in all those daydreams of the future you had, wishing we could've grown up together. You're just seeing what you want to see right now - your strength. I'm part of that, part of what makes you the strong woman you've become."

"But, I…" she was still struggling to make sense of it.

Ben's smile remained reassuring, "Don't worry so much, sis," he pointed over her shoulder, "We're here for you. We always are, even when you can't see us. I promise. Lawson can't hurt you as long as you hang on to us," the vision of adult Ben spoke those last few words as he began to fade.

Catherine tried to reach for him, "Ben, don't…" she watched as he disappeared. Her head turned to find a row of figures standing behind her in the rubble of the building.

John McGarrett was there, nodding his head in a confident manner. He stood beside Ben who was pointing further down the line. Billy was standing to their right, holding a leash that led to a yellow Labrador who she recognized immediately as her childhood dog, Cowboy. Bahnam and Fahran were there as well. The boy grasped a perfectly sharp pencil and his father held her eye with a serious look. And at the end of the row stood a man who'd easily become a friend the moment she'd first met him, Freddie Hart.

They all smiled. And then they were gone.

Her memories floated backward, the years running in reverse until they finally settled on one day in particular.

Dressed in her dark blue skirt and white shirt school uniform, she jumped off the bus looking forward to the Thanksgiving holiday break ahead.

Catherine was excited to see her yellow Labrador, Cowboy, racing down the sidewalk to greet her. He was barely a year old; still an excitable puppy in so many ways. But his mood seemed different as she bent down to pet him, scratching behind his left ear, usually a favorite spot to be loved. But instead of melting into her touch, the canine barked and insistently nudged her side, "What's wrong, boy?" she asked, eager to rush inside the house and hug her mom.

The second thing she planned to do was see if her baby brother was awake so she could tickle his belly.

She loved coming home after school so she could prop her little brother up on the sofa and then sit cross legged beside him while she finished her homework. Without a doubt she'd end up distracted from the homework, instead seeing how many different silly faces she could create to try and make Ben smile. She was usually successful with just one try.

But today, as soon as she took a second to look around, Catherine felt her stomach tighten. She could see the medical van and people swarmed around their base housing; soldiers on her porch. Catherine ran as fast as she could, pig tails flapping against her cheeks, backpack feeling heavier than it ever had before. Cowboy jogged faithfully at her side. "Mommy!" she shouted, running up the two steps onto her front porch. "Mommy, what's wrong?" she asked, reaching for the doorknob.

Strong arms caught her before she could open the door. "Your mom's busy right now," a man's voice said from behind her, "She has to talk to the men inside about what's happened here today. Something bad happened, child."

Catherine turned and looked up at the man still pressing his palms against her shoulders in restraint. "What happened, Uncle Nick? Is daddy…" she bit down on her lower lip, doing her best to stay brave, "Did daddy get hurt, is he dead?"

"No, your dad is fine as far as I know," Nick dropped his hands away from her, "He's on his way home now. Why don't we sit down," he guided her to the bench on the front porch, wooden slates held together by a wrought iron frame. "Catherine, something happened to your brother."

"Ben, what's wrong with Ben?" she asked, wide brown eyes looking up to the Master-at-Arms as if he held all the answers in the world. "Did he get sick, like a cold or something, is that why the medics are here?" Catherine's legs dangled over the front of the bench, swinging back and forth worriedly. One of her knee-high socks had fallen down to her ankle. Her shoes scuffed softly against the wooden floor boards. She was going to ask her mom to play the Chicago record tonight, extra reassurance that everything would be okay. "Uncle Nick?"

"Your baby brother died, Catherine," he told her. "The medics aren't sure why yet, he was taking a nap and your mom went to check on him. But he didn't wake up."

Her chestnut eyes filled with tears almost immediately, "How can Ben be dead?" her question was a whisper, understanding not yet sinking in, "He's just a baby, Uncle Nick. Babies don't die. Kids aren't supposed to die."

"Sometimes they do, child," he replied, voice a little softer.

"Why?" her lower lip quivered. Without thinking, Catherine climbed atop his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. It didn't feel the same as when she hugged her dad. Her daddy always hugged her tight, kissing her cheeks a lot and making sounds like he was a big growly bear. He called them bear hugs. But her uncle Nick wasn't even really hugging her back. He sat there for a long time allowing her to cry on his shoulder but his arms and hands barely touched her.

She finally pulled away from him when the front door opened. Catherine got to her feet hoping to see her mom. Instead she watched as one of the medics carried a bundle.

The blanket was brown and white with teddy bears. She knew it was Ben's blanket.

Catherine stood there staring at her brother's blanket while remembering going to a funeral with her daddy a few years ago. She'd seen her dad salute his lost friend. Later she'd asked him why and he'd explained it was a way to honor the dead. He'd even shown her how to give a proper salute. Catherine raised her right hand now like her daddy had taught her that day. She stood there on her front porch, saluting her brother, "Bye-Bye, Ben," she whispered. "I love you."

When the baby was gone Catherine felt a hand against her back, a strong, warm hand. She looked over her shoulder to see it was her Uncle Nick again, looking sadder than she'd ever seen him before. Catherine spun around and hugged him, her tears all gone but still seeking comfort for what she didn't quite understand. This time he held her close, more like a daddy hug, "Uncle Nick, why do people have to die?"

"I don't know, child," he whispered.

Her heart beat rapidly as the memory faded. Catherine kept her eyes closed, remaining focused, trying to block out the prison cell for a little longer.

The years shifted forward, spitting her out into another memory.

"Steve needs a woman like you in his life," John McGarrett smiled as he spoke those words.

Catherine was caught off guard by that remark. The southern California beach was surprisingly empty for a Thanksgiving holiday weekend, an array of gray clouds overhead, a slight chill in the air as they walked along the sandy shore. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering where Steve had run off to. He'd said something about dessert, but Catherine had the odd feeling he'd set her up for some alone time with his father, "Does he?" her attention returned to the older man.

John nodded, very serious, though still smiling, "I believe he does; someone who won't take any shit from him."

"Um," Catherine was a little taken aback by his candor.

She and Steve and taken his dad out for lunch to a small coffee shop designed like a fifties dinner. Then they'd opted for a walk along the beach to extend their day.

"Hopefully I haven't offended you," John spoke plainly, "That certainly wasn't my intent," he assured her, "I haven't known you very long but I get the impression you understand him, and that you're the kind of person who sticks around through the hard stuff. The kind of woman who won't give up so easily when he tries to push you away, which, if I know my son, is likely to happen at some point. He's a good boy, but losing his mother and me sending him away has made him angry. He's got a lot of that still bundled up deep inside."

Catherine could only nod; having seen small glimpses of Steve's anger and unhappiness in the time that she'd known him. "He's also got a lot of good inside him, sir."

It was John's turn to nod, "I'm glad you've seen both sides of my son."

She actually found his frankness refreshing, "And I'm glad he trusts me enough to have me meet you, sir."

"I haven't been in the Navy for years, Catherine. You can call me John, I insist," he flashed a warm smile at her.

"Okay, John," she smiled as well, the wind kicking up and causing her hair to whip against her face. "Steve said he's third generation Navy on your side, your father was at Pearl Harbor and you were in Vietnam," Catherine bit her lip, "And I don't know why I just mentioned that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," his head shook, "A lot of men who fought in Vietnam don't like to talk about it, with reason. That war was misunderstood by so many. But I know a lot of those men have also let it ruin their lives. It's a painful point in my life, but I don't mind talking about it. Talking has helped me to move on."

"I feel like that's something Steve still needs to learn, how to deal with things and move on," she daringly voiced her opinion.

John gave a nod of agreement, "It is," he replied. "Steve says your father is career Navy, did he go to Vietnam?"

"Just missed it, sir," she noticed the way his brow arched, "I mean, John."

He smiled, though the facial expression quickly turned serious again, "I'd like to say he was lucky, but I imagine he's been in plenty of other conflicts over the years?"

Catherine nodded, "Just about every major war or offensive for the last thirty years. I still worry about him every day," she couldn't help think about her dad taking her to lunch before each deployment, "When I was younger he'd always tell me it was up to me to take care of my mom in case anything happened to him."

"Lot of pressure for a little girl," John sympathized, "I'm glad I didn't have a family before Vietnam," he sighed, "Surprised I ever wanted a family afterward. You go into battle prepared for certain things, seeing your buddies hurt or even killed, knowing you might die yourself. But you're never really prepared for any of that. And you certainly aren't prepared to watch women and children die," his head shook, "Lot of innocent civilians lost in that war. I was luckier than most, stationed on a ship along the southern coast, we patrolled the ocean trade routes and didn't make it on land often."

She wondered again what was keeping Steve. It seemed like he'd been gone for far too long - long enough for his father to recount some of the worst times in his life. Catherine let go a heavy breath, "During my first tour in Afghanistan I saw plenty of death, thankfully never children. I'm not sure how… if I could…"

John rested a hand gently against her forearm, "I hope you never have to see that."

"John, I was wondering," Catherine hesitated for a moment, "Have you and Steve seen Mary yet during this visit?"

The man sighed regrettably, "I tried yesterday. She opened the door and then slammed it in my face. I guess my idea to surprise her wasn't the best."

"I'm sorry," Catherine said, "Maybe you should try calling her tonight and ask if you could see her tomorrow morning," she suggested.

He nodded, "I'll try, but I doubt she'll talk to me either."

"If you don't mind me saying, John," she ventured a bit further, "Don't give up on her. I know what it feels like to have your family fall apart and, it takes a lot of time to pull those pieces back together," Catherine shrugged, "But it's really none of my business."

"How is your family?" John was curious.

Another shrug raised her shoulders, "My parents and I don't see each other much, hardly ever on holidays. It's kind of hard, my dad away so much still. And my mom has a different family now, her husband and his kids."

John squeezed her arm again, "If you don't mind me saying, don't give up on them. I'll promise if you promise?"

She nodded, "You have yourself a deal, sir."

"Hey, I found some…" Steve approached with a smile that was cut short when he noticed the serious looks on both their faces, "Everything okay here?" he noticed how Catherine's hair was whipping about in the wind and reached out to tuck some of it behind her ear.

"Fine," Catherine pulled on a smile, leaning against his left side and peeking into the white paper bag he was holding, "What've you got there?"

Steve's free arm wrapped around her waist and he looked very pleased with himself as he presented the treat to her, "Chocolate covered almonds," he couldn't help the goofy grin that formed as he tightened his grip at her waist a little, "Made me think of that night at the dance."

Catherine glanced up at him, wondering how he could be so impossibly sweet sometimes. Before taking any, she turned to John, "Looks like this SEAL is at least good at catching nuts. Would you like some, John?" she offered, remembering to use his first name.

"Something I should know about nuts?" John asked, taking a handful and popping one into his mouth. He chewed slowly looking from Steve to Catherine.

The two laughed softly, eyes focused on one another, "Nothing," they said at the same time.

A smile crinkled John's eyes as he watched them, "Heard you two went fishing a few months back…"

Those words caused Catherine's memories to spiral backward again, though not too far.

"Just sit back and let me show you," Steve protested, "This is how it's done."

Their rented houseboat was a thirty-six foot craft with the basics, kitchenette, bathroom, one double bed and a futon; just enough room to sleep all four of them. So far, sleep was the farthest thing from any of their minds as they set out on day one of their three day holiday. They were currently attempting to do some fishing. At least the guys were. Kelly and Catherine were opting for lounge chair time as Steve and Freddie fiddled with their fishing lines.

A gentle undulation of clear blue Florida Keys' ocean provided ample relaxation. But the two SEALs constantly bickering did not.

"No, no, no," Freddie shook his head as he tried to grab Steve's fishing rod, "You can't just… jeez, man, didn't you grow up in Hawaii? Do you know nothing about fishing?"

Steve pushed his buddy away with one arm, "I know what I'm doing here, just leave me to it," he insisted.

Catherine and Kelly shared a glance and laughed, soaking up the sun from their spot on the deck. "Do they always argue like this?" Catherine asked, not having spent much time with Freddie or Kelly before, though she'd liked them both instantly.

"Pretty much," Kelly nodded. "They're not as bad as Freddie and I, we argue every day. You'd think two people that have known each other as long as us would just decide to break up for good or go ahead and get married."

"How long have you known Freddie?" Catherine asked, "I thought you met the same night Steve and I did at the dance in Coronado?"

Kelly's head shook, "Nope. I think Steve figured we'd just met that night since we were so glad to see each other again and couldn't keep our hands off one another. But, no, I met Freddie our freshman year in High School just after my dad took a job in Miami. Freddie and I had just been on a very long break before seeing each other at the dance in Coronado. I was visiting a college friend at the time. I knew Freddie was in the area, and I'd been missing him a lot."

"So you think you and Freddie will get married eventually?" Catherine wondered, "Seems like you keep coming back to each other."

"No, we'd probably kill each other if we actually married," Kelly smiled as she spoke.

Catherine didn't need to be a Navy Intel officer to decipher the sentiment behind the woman's smile, "Yeah, but if you keep coming back to each other, maybe it's meant to be?"

"Maybe," Kelly shrugged, "Or maybe it just means I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Hey," Freddie flopped down on Kelly's lounge chair and playfully slapped her thigh, "You talking behind my back again," he grinned, leaning in for a quick kiss which she gave him before arching her brow, knowing there was a question on his mind, "Thought maybe you'd be willing to make us some sandwiches?"

Kelly chuckled, "Sure, as long as you meant grab the pre-made ones we bought out of the fridge and bring them to you?"

He smiled and nodded, "You're gonna make some guy a heck of a wife someday," Freddie teased as she got up and smacked the back of his head before disappearing inside the boat's main cabin. Freddie stretched out on the chair she'd just vacated. "He likes you a lot," the SEAL eyed Catherine and nodded his head toward Steve's back.

"I don't know about that," Catherine shrugged, "We're just…"

"Just what, you just have a thing?" Freddie wasn't buying it. "You're here right now on vacation with him, hanging out with his best friend," Freddie boasted with a cheeky grin, "And I'm telling you I've never seen him look at any woman like he looks at you. Seriously, a few months back we were on leave; went to this crap bar…" he shook his head, "That's beside the point, the point is that there was this woman all over my boy that night."

Catherine's eyes narrowed as she glanced at the back of Steve's head, watching as he held the fishing pole while concentrating intently on his task.

"Seriously, this lady was drop-dead Victoria Secret gorgeous," Freddie cringed, "Not that you aren't…"

"I get the point," Catherine chuckled.

"So…" he went on, "She was damn near eye fu… well, making love to him from across the room, if you will," Freddie watched his tongue, "But my boy, Smooth Dog, doesn't even acknowledge her existence. I honest to God turned to him and asked if he was gay," Freddie laughed, "Didn't faze him a bit, though. He just got this goofy little grin on his face as he said no. Then, of course, I asked what her name was. He said to me: Lieutenant Catherine Rollins," Freddie grinned, "All serious with your rank and everything. I knew he had it bad."

Her memories jolted forward again, this time settling on the interior of a tiny Bangkok hotel.

Steve lay propped on his side, staring at her, "You're beautiful," he whispered.

Catherine grinned, "And you're dunk… drunk," she corrected. It was the end of January, the closest to New Year's they'd been able to plan a rendezvous. They'd celebrated together by getting way too drunk the night before. And now they were already doing a decent job of rounding out another day of inebriated celebration.

"You're dunk, too," Steve chuckled, "Doesn't make you any less beautiful."

"That's called the beer goggle effect, buddy," Catherine pushed against his chest and glanced down at her appearance, "I didn't even have time to do laundry before this last-minute trip. I'm wearing leggings that haven't been washed in days, and a t-shirt that smells like…" she sniffed the white cloth and scrunched her nose, "Wine and.. pretty sure this stain here is last night's Pad Thai sauce," she pointed out, "Not exactly sexiest woman of the year qualities."

"You can keep denying it if you want," he dismissed, twirling her hair with one finger, "You're acting too serious for being this drunk. Tell me something silly, something that makes you laugh," he changed the topic suddenly, his mind wandering, a sure sign that he was fairly intoxicated.

Her head shook, "No."

"Why not," he actually pouted.

"Because we're way too drunk and I'm afraid I might tell you something I shouldn't," Catherine protested.

"Something embarrassing?" Steve prodded. "Like what? I've already seen you in a tutu."

A sharp bark of laughter escaped her lips before she found the words rolling off her tongue, "Like my bakery fantasy," Catherine closed her eyes for a moment, "Which involves having a really hot guy in a chef's hat feed me chocolate croissants while we lay naked on a bed of sourdough buns in a warm, toasty kitchen," her eyes reopened and she groaned, realizing he'd gotten her to spill her guts, "The smell of sourdough really turns me on," she gave up trying to care.

Steve stared at her, wondering if she was just yanking his chain. When her eyes meet his he had a pretty good feeling she'd been lying, "You're seriously drunk."

Catherine's eyelids slid to half mast, "What was your first clue?"

He grinned, "I'd lay on sourdough buns with you any day, all day," Steve joked, "But come on," he stood and bumped into the wall behind him, the room having barely enough space to walk around the double bed. Steve grabbed her hands and hauled her to her feet, "We need to do something else, maybe go for a walk and get some fresh air, change of scenery. We both fly out in the morning, we can't spend what little time we have left getting drunk in a hotel room."

She managed to slip ballet flats onto her feet and clung to his side to keep upright as they made their way down twenty floors in a rickety elevator. The elevator stopped at the lobby floor with a great shudder and took almost a minute before it opened its doors to let them out. They were assaulted by daylight upon stepping outside. Late afternoon sun slanted onto the street through the multitude of buildings dotting the main core of the bustling city.

"I think walking while drunk in a foreign city is against the law," Catherine whispered.

"No, it's not," he chuckled.

Her head rested against Steve's shoulder where his t-shirt sleeve revealed a tiny bit of a tattoo against his bicep. Catherine smiled as he walked down the sidewalk with one supportive arm about her waist. She had a feeling he was only being so clingy due to the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. In the years she'd known him so far he didn't normally like public displays of affection. Of course being in a city far from their usual duties might've been helping him relax a little.

They wandered the streets for a couple hours, mindlessly perusing tacky souvenir shops, trying not to hurl as they mistakenly wandered into a fish market, and regaining almost enough sobriety to actually shop a couple of clothing boutiques. Catherine had bought something at one store, a dress. But even as she carried the bag in her left hand she couldn't recall the color of the dress she'd purchased. "Are you still drunk?" she asked Steve. "Maybe we need some food?"

His head nodded to both questions, "Good idea," Steve spotted a small restaurant along the busy street. "Take away?" he asked her.

Catherine agreed, happy to think about the prospect of returning to the hotel with their food - to eat, or maybe not to eat.

After they'd ordered and gotten their food, Steve headed them back toward the hotel. But it was nearly a half hour later when Catherine realized they'd been walking in circles. "You're lost," she declared. Those words clearly sparked a testosterone surge because his back went ridged and he didn't say anything. He turned down an alleyway that didn't look familiar at all, "Come on, don't be that guy," she groaned, "Ask someone for directions. Please, I really need to pee."

"My Thai isn't that good," Steve confessed.

She frowned, letting go of him and walking right up to a man standing outside a shop that had several Thai words displayed in the window along with many colorful and elaborate drawings. There was one word she recognized, carved into a board hanging above the window: Tattoo. Catherine spoke to the man for a moment and he pointed toward the inside of the shop. "Thank you," she said, grateful he spoke some English. Her Thai wasn't great either; especially still as tipsy as she was feeling.

"Our hotel is inside that shop?" Steve asked as she yanked him toward the entrance, "I really am lost."

"I asked where a bathroom was," Catherine said as she handed over her dress bag, "Wait here."

He was a little worried about her disappearing into the back room of a shop he knew nothing about, but he did his best not to fret. Steve stood with their plastic sack of food in his right hand, her dress bag in the other. He knew the food was already growing cold as he glanced at the wall display of all the tattoo designs. Some were as simple as butterflies or hearts while others were much more intricate. Steve was admiring a rather ornate drawing when the man Catherine had spoken to outside approached him.

"You like my design work?" he asked, "We can do for good price. Take American money, VISA and AMERICAN EXPRESS card."

Steve smiled graciously, "Thank you, but no, I don't think…"

"Steve," Catherine called him over toward the back wall. "I'm getting a tattoo."

"What? Now?" he glanced down at the food. "I thought we were going back to the hotel to eat."

She shrugged, pointing to the man who remained standing next to Steve, "Sanun promised it won't take long. The shop isn't busy today."

"Maybe that's a bad sign," Steve replied.

"Don't be silly, this place is spotless," she gestured to the open room, spinning a bit on her heel and tilting a little off axis.

"Easy there, Lieutenant," he caught her under the arms and righted her, both bags having dropped to the floor in favor of helping her. If he'd been even slightly more sober he might've considered the validity of allowing her to get a tattoo with her level of blood-alcohol content. As it was, Steve retrieved their bags and easily gave in to her request, following after her and Sanun as the tattoo artist guided them into a small back room. He had to admit it was very clean and sterile looking.

Steve stayed with her as the man began to outline a simple five pointed star design on the back of her neck.

Several hours later they lay curled up in their hotel bed again, fed and full, his chest pressed against her back. Steve pushed a tangle of messy dark hair away from the back of her neck and inspected the bandage. "Does it hurt?"

"A little sore," she shrugged, "How's your back?"

He recalled how Sanun had promised a better price if they each got a tattoo. Although the man's price had not quite been two for one, Steve had made a bit of an impulsive choice and gone for a much more elaborate design on his back than she'd had drawn on her neck. "Sore," he admitted.

Catherine rolled over, "It's been a couple hours, we should take the bandages off," she suggested, seeing through their pinhole window that an inky black sky had settled over the city.

"And wash them in the shower?" Steve nodded, "Since both are in hard to reach places…"

"We'll have to help each other… wash," she stressed the last word even though she clearly had something else in mind.

Unfortunately their shower stall was smaller than most baby cribs, which left them washing up only, and quickly. Their clean, tattooed, naked bodies stumbled through the small room and flopped back onto the tiny bed. City night lights flashed through the small window, casting an alternating green, yellow and pink glow over the stark white sheets and their eager flesh. His head dipped to kiss her neck and she closed her eyes, inhaling the sweetness of hotel shampoo from his freshly washed hair.

"Don't start something you can't finish, sailor," Catherine's breath hitched as his lips descended upon her breasts.

His tongue lightly flicked across her nipple as her hands roamed to his hips, "Who says I can't finish?" Steve glanced up at her challenging.

"I know how much you had to drink earlier," she panted, fingernails gently gliding up and down his muscled back.

He grinned, pulling away from her just enough to prove his point, "Don't you worry, I always finish what I start," Steve assured.

Catherine's gaze appreciatively roamed the proof his erection provided. Her eyes eventually rolled into the back of her head as his warm mouth resumed their fantastically torturously treatment of her breasts and belly. She normally liked to wrap her legs about his waist, but resisted, knowing it might hurt his newly tattooed lower back. Instead she simply arched her back and grasped his firm butt in order to direct him. "Oh, god…" Catherine squeaked with delight as he entered her.

A short while later, as their bodies finally reached release, Catherine gently bit into his shoulder, "Yes, you do," she agreed.

She woke up the next morning, opened her eyes and groaned as a narrow beam of sunlight blinded her. Catherine reached for her pillow and pulled it closer. Her belly remained warmly pressed against the bed but she turned her head to find Steve gazing at her. He had one arm flung over his head, the other reaching for her. His gray-blue eyes looked pensive, even a little sad. "What's wrong?"

His right index finger caressed her arm and moved slowly up her shoulder, "Nothing, just enjoying this last view."

"Last?" Catherine's eyes narrowed.

"You slept in a bit, it's late," he revealed, not letting on about how he'd intentionally not woken her, "Your flight leaves in about an hour."

"Damn," the word was a sharp exhale as she extracted herself from him and the bed. Catherine could feel his eyes on her as she found her panties on the floor. She pulled them on along with a bra and the least offensive smelling t-shirt she had with her. Then she began to toss the rest of her meager selection of things into a duffle bag. "So, next time…" she watched as he stood and donned the black boxer briefs she'd come to love.

"What's that?" he asked, stepping into his jeans.

Catherine turned her full attention on him, eyes focused on his pants for a moment as he pulled them to his waist but didn't fasten the zipper, "You know the drill. We always make a plan before we leave," she took a step toward him, "For the next time, meeting half way somewhere or…"

"Don't know where I'll be sent next," Steve replied.

His tone sounded dismissive to her. Catherine moved in closer, standing right in front of him, "We're never sure where we'll be, but we always make a plan."

He looked her in the eye, cupping her cheek with one hand, "I'll call you."

Those words worried her, but she tried to play them off as nothing more than him feeling bad about having to part again.

She nodded, wishing he'd at least kiss her good-bye, "Okay," Catherine agreed. But the kiss never came.

000

"Okay, really?" Danny fidgeted with his hands as he watched Catherine on the monitor. "Isn't she wasting time?"

So far their search for Lawson's thugs hadn't turned up anything.

"Catherine didn't say An gave her any sort of time table," Chin pointed out.

"Yeah, but…" the detective was restless thinking about his partner missing. Danny couldn't help think about how Lawson and Wo Fat had held Catherine for almost a year. He didn't know what sort of resources An had at her disposal. She was Wo Fat's sister, and even though in some ways she seemed to abhor that fact, the bigger fact at the moment was that she had Steve trapped somewhere. And she could very well keep him locked away indefinitely. "Cath's been in there for a half hour already and she's just… doing yoga?"

Kono tried to turn things around on him, "How would you deal with Lawson, Danny?"

"I'd walk in there and punch him repeatedly until he told me what he'd done with An's parents and where Steve was."

Chin and Kono nodded, already having guessed as much. "Exactly," Kono shrugged, "And knowing what we know about Nick Lawson, how well do you think that would go over?"

"I…" Danny took a moment to think about it, realization finally dawning, "He'd probably give me nothing, and maybe cause me to break a few fingers."

"He's been able to hide out all these years, laying low," Chin observed, "We know he's smart, crafty, willing to wait for a very long time to get what he wants. Willing to manipulate Catherine into doing what he wants, the way he nearly talked her into shooting him a few days ago. But she's smart, too, making herself comfortable, relaxed. Showing him she's the one in control now. I think she's going about all this in exactly the right way."

Kono's cell rang just as Chin had made that comment.

She answered and listened to the man on the other end, "Thanks, Duke, we'll be right there." She ended the call, "HPD found Steve's Mercury in an alleyway behind an antique shop downtown. I told Duke we'd check it out."

Chin looked back to their surveillance feed from Halawa's maximum security lockdown, "You and Danny should go. I'll stay here to watch over Catherine."

"You sure?" Danny asked even as he and Kono headed for the door, eager to actually do something.

He gave a quick nod. Chin knew there was no way Lawson could get through the nearly foot-thick glass, but he wasn't going to risk it, "I'm not taking my eyes off her." He heard the door swing shut after they exited, still keeping a close eye on Lawson's reactions to her just as much as her actions.

But his attention was pulled away for a moment when the side door opened again.

Doris entered HQ, walking straight toward the man. "I know Steve is sick of me interfering," she preempted, "But I can't sit at home any longer. Catherine's father has called in every Navy favor he can think of to help set up search parties throughout the islands. Her mom is cooking enough food to keep the troops fed for weeks. Mary took Grace to the beach to help distract her. And even those Flay girls are using social media to ask friends to keep an eye out for my son. I need to be doing something," Doris expressed.

"Would it help you to know we're doing everything possible right now?" Chin asked.

"He's my son, what do you think?" she shrugged.

Chin smiled.

"I never really apologized to you for keeping your contact with me quiet this past year," Doris realized. "I know you respect Steve and that can't have been easy for you."

"It wasn't, but I think he's forgiven me," Chin was appreciative of her sentiment. He watched the way she rocked on her heels. And there was a slightly guarded look in her eyes that reminded him of Steve, "What is it? You know something you haven't told us?"

Doris let out a breath, walking a fine line between not wanting to upset her son by interfering again and being worried out of her mind about him. "I have some information on that CIA agent, Jared Vichy, who's been your contact in Brazil," she revealed.

"What sort of information?" Chin wondered why he hadn't been notified first, "Did he find something? An's parents?"

"No, he didn't contact me personally," she clarified, "He hasn't found anything according to my sources, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have plans to find anyone for you. I did some research on Vichy, asked a few old contacts to look into him, see if he was legit or not."

After a quick glance to check on Catherine, Chin eyed the woman beside him, "Why do I get the feeling you're about to say he's not."

"I wouldn't be standing here otherwise," Doris confirmed.

The officer sighed, asking the hard question, "Is he working with Lawson?"

She shrugged, "Haven't been able to determine that yet. My best guess is yes, but I was hoping you might be able to help."

He looked to the monitor again and watched as Catherine's eyes opened, "If it means getting her out of that cell," Chin nodded, "I'll do whatever you ask."

Doris found his loyalty to Catherine touching, "Right now I think we just need to try contacting Vichy, see if he's still stringing us along."

000

A gentle but insistent nudge against her hand caused Catherine to open her eyes.

Ben, John and Freddie all sunk back into her memory as she looked down to see Trooper curled beside her. The canine's nose was pressed against her hand. As soon as Trooper saw her eyes had opened the dog jumped up onto all fours and pointed her snout toward the baby. Catherine smiled even as she noticed Evan looked rather grumpy to have been forgotten on the blanket. "Come here, nugget," she crawled over and scooped him up, kissing his pouty face that reminded her so much of Steve.

"You really shouldn't be in here," Lawson said as he stood with his back to her, shoulders pressed against the glass.

Catherine held the baby against her left side as she stood. "The head of Five-0's taskforce is missing. An has taken Steve somewhere," she finally spoke to him while rooting around in the duffle bag for the baby's snuggle pack. She expertly managed to situate the straps over her shoulders and secured Evan against her chest, kissing the top of his head, "Which means the governor has given me the same immunity and means as Five-0 in order to get him back."

Lawson turned around to face her, his eyes falling on the infant, "Including baby yoga sessions in my cell?" he sneered.

"Yes," she replied, not allowing his obvious disgust to bother her. Catherine squatted to open the box the guard had carried in for her.

The man sighed, "You should take the child home. He doesn't need to be here for this."

"Everyone seems to think I'm so strong," Catherine said to him, not bothering to acknowledge his suggestion. "I've been trying to believe that, trying to believe in their faith in me," she said, her hands gently caressing Evan's feet as they dangled at her sides, "But all I want right now is Steve back, and for he and Evan and I to have a life together. I don't care if it's not a perfect life, I've never expected that. I just want them both in my life. And I plan to fight as long and as hard as I have to for that to be a reality. I sat aboard that ship of yours for hours on end, day after day… after day. But I never gave up hope that I'd see Steve again. I had doubts, but always hope."

His eyes rolled, "I suppose that's meant to prove to me how much you love him, love conquers all," Lawson scoffed.

She smiled despite the callous tone of his words. "No, it takes more than just love. I'm talking about commitment, loyalty," Catherine expressed, "There are so many emotions that make up love. I doubt you know the first thing about any of them."

"Don't you dare tell me I don't understand what love is, child!" Lawson finally exploded at her. "I knew the meaning of love long before you were ever born."

Catherine turned away from him, gently bouncing the baby as he fussed. She sat down and loosened the pack. Catherine pulled down the V-neck collar of her t-shit and her nursing bra cup allowing Evan to latch on to her breast. She watched the baby for a while, gently and reassuringly caressing his arm as he nursed. Catherine didn't bother to cover herself from Lawson, guessing he'd had access to video footage of her nursing before, back on the ship. She also wanted to create an illusion of relaxation if not the true achievement of such.

"This is ridiculous," the man said as he walked toward the single bunk against the back wall of his cell, "Why don't you take the boy home and then come to speak with me."

It was hard not to read more into his reiteration of that suggestion, "Does it bother you, him being here?"

"It's not right for him to be here," Lawson sat down and rested his elbows on his knees, placed his head against his hands. "He's done nothing wrong."

"But you should be here because you have done something wrong?" she questioned.

"Not what I said, child," he mumbled.

Not giving in, Catherine remained quiet for over twenty minutes as Evan nursed.

After the baby had finally fallen asleep she resituated her clothing and cinched up the pack again. Catherine got to her feet, ready to resume her set course. With the baby asleep against her chest and her hands free she began to dig through the box and extracted several things. She arrayed the objects across the floor in front of Lawson's cell. Most of the items were made of some sort of paper; notes, drawings, file folders and several pictures.

Lawson got up again, pacing back and forth. "I'm curious how Steve managed to escape that trap An set for him?"

Catherine sensed he was more curious about the things she had displayed in front of him, but she played along with him, "You mean the trap you set for him. I helped Steve and the others escape your death trp. You sent them there knowing exactly how An had rigged that building," she made those words a statement, not inviting a protest, "I actually used a new satellite I recently acquired to help free them."

"A satellite?" his brow arched in mock interest, "I'm impressed."

"It was a gift from a friend, Billy Harrington," Catherine didn't deviate from her plan, reaching down to grab one of the pieces of paper she'd just laid out, "We worked together for almost two years in Navy Intel. He was a good student, picked it up fast."

"Yes, I'm sure he was very interested in everything you had to teach him," Lawson replied with thinly veiled sarcasm, "Good looking young man, beautiful young woman working together, teaching and learning. Tell me, child, were you a good teacher?"

She didn't let his insinuating comments bother her much, "Maybe I'll let Billy tell you himself," she said before beginning to read the note her friend had left for her upon his death.

Catherine,

Several years ago you changed my life. And I can just about picture the look on your face right now as you read this. You're probably groaning and thinking; no, Billy, I never loved you like you wanted me to. That's not the sort of life changing I was talking about, though. I didn't quite realize it at the time, but that first day we met and you started to teach me about codes and everything else that went into Intel work, I was inspired by you.

You took your job seriously, as serious as any of the SEALs I served with, including Commander McGarrett.

I enjoyed the work, much to my surprise. I was changing the shape of the War in a manner that would likely benefit countless numbers of troops as well as Afghan lives. And it felt good, empowering. A different sort of adrenaline rush. After our tour in Afghanistan I transferred to the Enterprise selfishly so I could continue that work. Yes, also to be close to you, but more so to learn; to gain a better overall picture of the work you first exposed me to.

When I was recalled to the battle field it was familiar and safe territory to me. And I found myself easily drawn back into being that sort of soldier.

When that convoy got hit and my injuries turned out to be serious enough to push me out of the Navy, I was devastated.

I never told you this, never told anyone, but I nearly took my own life after that mission left me with this damned unpredictable TBI condition. But I bounced back because I realized I still had a great skill, what you had taught me. I wanted to turn that into something, a new career path I could be proud of. A new life I could be happy to live. In some way it was you who gave me the idea to go out on my own, start the private agency. And when I realized you might be willing to work with me again I was thrilled.

Unfortunately, I did a good job of screwing that up when I tried to kiss you in November.

Some of that behavior I can blame on the TBI, but a lot of it was just me being an idiot.

Spending time with my dad and An this Christmas and New Year's, it's actually got me hoping I might be able to fix some of what I've messed up. I asked An to marry me. Maybe I can move forward and put my life back into some type of order.

I'm writing this note to you because I'm afraid of my own body these days, and afraid of how quickly death can come after you like it did for Cathleen and Marty. I didn't want to use Marty's money on anything frivolous, so I have something in the works already. I'm hoping to buy a satellite. I think it could help us do big things, or maybe small things that will have a big impact on people's lives. I don't know if I'll even get it. Right now I'm still battling with some larger agency for the rights to buy.

But if I do win the bid, and if this time bomb in my head ever goes off, then that beautiful hunk of orbiting Intel will belong to you. I know leaving you a million dollar satellite can't say thank you for changing my life, nor can it tell you how sorry I am for being a jerk. But maybe it'll be a start. If you ever are able to forgive me for being so stupid, I really hope I'm around to hear it. If not, if it happens after you read this, then I'll at least rest peacefully knowing you don't hate me.

Several years ago all I wanted from you was friendship, Catherine. And I'm lucky to be able to say you gave me that, which is more than I've deserved.

Now I just want you to be happy. I know Steve makes you happy. I see it in your eyes.

Love,

Billy

She folded the note and looked to Lawson again, seeing the blank expression on his face, but a hint of sadness in his eyes. The first time she'd read the note tears had filled her eyes. Now a smile curled her lips. "Do you know what that's like?" she asked him, "You say you understand love, but do you understand it outside of ruling over someone, controlling them? Do you understand it in terms of friendship and forgiveness?" Catherine wondered.

He walked closer to the glass, stopping right in front of where she was standing. His gaze fell upon her left hand, "That's a new ring you're wearing," Lawson noticed.

It was clearly a means to change the topic, keep her on her toes, keep her guessing and maybe even confuse her.

"Not exactly new, antique," she noted, not allowing him to throw her off. Catherine would roll with his punches, adapt to whatever tactics he had in mind, "It's an engagement ring from Steve," she also planned to tell him nothing but the truth, "He took me and Evan on a hike yesterday and asked. I said yes."

"Congratulations," the man replied with little inflection to his tone.

She regarded him for several seconds, not sure what to make of his response at first. "Did you think taking my left ring finger would somehow destroy the possibility of me getting married? Were you trying to save me from that fate because you viewed it as a dead end for you?" Catherine asked, "It doesn't matter. A finger," her head shook.

Lawson grinned, "It made you tougher, didn't it?"

"Excuse me," she eyed him another moment in silence. "Tougher? Is that what you were trying to do, toughen me up?"

"Weakness can get you killed, but being tough helps you survive," he shrugged, "Maybe I wanted to guard you from the inevitable hurt you would endure upon marrying and trying to live some happily ever after version of life."

"Is that what you've been chasing all these years, some fairytale ending? I already told you I don't believe in happily ever after. There's no such thing." Catherine could see how those words made him stop to think. "We find small moments of happiness along the way, in between the fighting and the heartache and the wars. We suffer and we heal. We take what we can get. Those of us who understand that… we live in those moments," she insisted, "We look forward to them, remember them in times of loss. We even hope for more of them."

"You know…" he smiled while shaking his head at her, "If it's true that An has Steve, she didn't subdue him herself. Unless she shot him," Lawson waited to see her reaction and was rewarded with a scowl, "Oh, you don't think she'd do that? You're far too trusting. She shot and killed your dear student Billy, didn't she?"

Catherine took a quick breath, mad at herself for giving away any bit of discomfort, or allowing him to read her, "No, I believe she's just as messed up as you. She feels guilty for her parents being missing so she'll do whatever she has to, she's desperate."

"And desperate people make stupid choices," he concluded.

"Sometimes," she gave him that much, reaching down, letting go of Billy's note in favor of grabbing a set of photos. "Do you remember Martin Chase and Cathleen Dugan?" Catherine flashed pictures of them against the glass, the ones Max had taken of them on the autopsy slab. They showed the dove brand mark that had been found on each victim. He gave her nothing so she flipped to another picture. "Do you recognize this shot?"

"Looks like people at a party," he shrugged.

"This was taken at a gathering toward the end of May, 1985, over twenty-nine years ago. You were there," Catherine reminded him, "The baptism of my brother, Benjamin David Rollins," she pointed to the right hand corner, "There you are with your wife and children."

He scoffed, "How long did it take you to find that? Further proof that your family forgot about mine until this point in time when it serves your purpose," Lawson dismissed.

She'd been prepared for his reactions, knowing he'd twist things and pretend none of it affected him. Catherine knew she just had to find the right trigger. She wasn't even close to being done yet as she stooped down, mindful of Evan strapped to her chest. She discarded the pictures and reached for two sheets of paper, one slightly crumpled and covered in pencil sketches. The drawings had faded considerably after almost seven years of being folded and often carried around in the pocket of her camos.

The second piece of paper had just one sketch.

"This is a little boy I met during my second tour in Afghanistan," she held the second drawing up for Lawson to see. "I sketched this from memory one night while stationed in Bagram, shortly after he was killed. His name was Bahnam. His father was a quiet man, reserved, wonderful cook. And this," she held the other sketches up, "These are drawings Bahnam did just minutes before his death. Two men showed up at his father's restaurant and blew themselves up along with Bahnam and his father, Fahran. And for a while I believed their deaths were my fault. I thought the incident was somehow connected to the work I was doing."

Catherine watched as his eyes actually focused on the pictures, "But it wasn't my fault, wasn't connected to me at all," she revealed. "I did extensive research on my own time in order to figure that out. It's hard for me to let go of something once I put my mind to it."

"I have no doubt," his gaze shifted to her. "You're a dedicated woman, strong willed. Those are very admirable qualities. I'm sure you never questioned orders, no doubt the Navy was lucky to have such a fine officer as you," Lawson praised, "Tell me, why did you ever leave the Navy? It was safe there, wasn't it? Didn't you feel safe?"

With steady words she continued her story, "I found out those men had chosen Fahran's place by random. The two men were good friends who'd fought in the war and lost everything while they were away fighting. Their homes destroyed by bombings. Wives and children gone, some starved, others murdered. Those men lost their minds, lost their selves in the chaos. They were destroyed, overwhelmed by their grief. So they decided to hurt others, make them suffer as they'd suffered."

His eyes revealed nothing to her, "You think this is going to sway me? You think those men were like me?"

Not answering, Catherine traded the drawings for a stack of file folders.

"Lenore Silva," she read the name on the first folder, "Brazilian ambassador to the U.S. who was in Russia enjoying the Olympic Winter games with her family, husband Emile, and their two children, Ines and Luis," Catherine glanced at the attached photos of them. Steve had organized them all in the small file cabinet in the study. She remembered watching him scoop them up from the living room floor the night she'd returned home. "They died on flight U8517," she declared, noticing that he only shrugged.

She moved each file to the back of the stack as she continued to read. Catherine had read them all during her sleepless nights, "Margaret Collins, 63. She was in Paris visiting her twin two-year-old granddaughters. Jean-Pierre was 28. He left his home in Marseille and connected through Paris to the D.C. flight. He was headed to D.C. to visit his fiancée, a U.S citizen, Bianca. She had plans to move to Paris with him for a job he'd accepted at the Louvre."

The man on the other side of the glass actually yawned.

"Bud Nelson, age 39, had been in Paris on business. He was headed home to his wife and three daughters. Claire Lebeau was just seventeen years old and headed to D.C. to live with her foreign exchange host family. Zachary Hills, a nine year old boy, was on his way home after visiting an uncle in the French Alps for a week of skiing."

Lawson sighed, "This is fruitless," he groaned. "I don't know what you expect from me, some spontaneous burst of regret? Many people died on that flight, what a tragedy. But I wasn't there. How can I regret things I had no part in?"

Catherine took time and care in placing the stack gently onto the floor before rising to face him again. "I hate you, but I'm not afraid of you."

"Is that so?" he seemed intrigue by that spontaneous comment.

"Because I understand you too well," she replied.

His eyes narrowed. Not as nonchalant as he'd been just a moment ago, "I doubt that very much."

"I know you, Nick," she used his name, "It pains me to say it, to admit it, but there are parts of me I see reflected in you." Catherine took a breath before continuing, "You had a plan worked out for your life and nothing was going to get in the way of it, right? You used Hannah as a shield against the world, a wife to prove you were normal, human, functioning. You even had a child to further that point. Nothing was going to break through to you, though, not to the real you."

"This is growing boring," Lawson said even as his hands balled into fists.

"But then your son was born," Catherine didn't let up, "You neglected him for years, didn't pay much attention to anything he cared about, never told him you loved him. It was no different than the way you'd treated Hannah and Melanie. But they seemed able to handle it. Your wife made a home for you all, worshiped you. Melanie got good grades, excelled at school and the swim team. But your coldness took a toll on Matthew. He turned to drugs and drug dealing. He got into trouble."

Lawson's jaw tightened, "Him getting into trouble showed how much he needed me," the man admitted. "He needed a father and for the first time in so many years I felt like maybe I could be that. I wanted to guide him, wanted to help him, but…"

Catherine felt a chill run down her spine as she pressed both hands protectively against Evan's back. She couldn't tell if he was letting real emotion slip out or if he was just toying with her again. But she had to keep the pressure on, "You couldn't save him," she realized, "I know you named that boat after him, his basketball nickname, Lightning Bolt. You gave him praise for basketball, but it wasn't enough. It was already too late. He was lost and you turned the blame on others because it was too hard to blame yourself for what happened."

"Are you a shrink now?" he growled, anger bubbling to the surface.

"No," her head shook, "I just know what that sort of guilt feels like. I know what it does to a person."

"Because you thought you got some kid in Afghanistan killed?" Lawson scoffed. "Not like he was family."

She felt her hands shake as they rested against Evan, her fingers gently stroking the small bit of dark hair at the back of his head, "I've never told anyone this but for a long time I blamed myself for my brother's death," Catherine whispered.

That got his attention again, "I thought he died from a heart problem?"

"He did," Catherine replied, "But in my seven year old mind he died because I wasn't there for him. My dad used to leave the house really early every morning for work, but he'd always come into my room and kiss my forehead. He'd say to me: "Take care of your mom and Ben for me. If anything ever happens to me it's up to you to take care of them, princess. You're the strongest, it's your responsibility." He put me in charge," she explained, "I was Ben's big sister. I was meant to protect him from any bad stuff."

"You were a child," Lawson's tone was on the verge of sounding caring. "You were not responsible," his tone turned urgent. "You protected your brother the best you could. But you couldn't always be there for her. It wasn't your fault," he insisted. "It wasn't your fault. I know it wasn't," Lawson insisted, "Don't put that blame on you. Stop blaming yourself for things you can't control. Stop it!" he was yelling now, "Stop it!"

Catherine clutched her sleeping son, not sure what had just happened, maybe some monsters from his past struggling to reach the surface. She was almost willing to dive into that further but her first and foremost aim at the moment was to get Steve back. So she tried to use Lawson's outburst, his distracted state of mind, to her advantage, "Did you take An's parents?" she asked. "Do you know where they are?"

"An?" he looked at her a bit bewildered.

"I'm not very good at backing down when there's something I want," Catherine reminded him, "We seem to have that in common as well," again she tried to sympathize. "Tell me what you did to An's parents and I'll leave you alone. Isn't that what you want, to be left alone?" she intentionally used the word alone a couple times.

"I said… I said," Lawson pursed lips, "No. I said to make the boy go away and we can talk, just the two of us."

"Suddenly you want to protect the boy?" she couldn't quite keep up with his shifting moods.

"I'm always trying to protect the boy!" he shouted.

Her stomach tightened as that statement flew from his mouth. Catherine knew he wasn't talking about Evan. She was pretty sure he wasn't even talking about his son, Matthew.

"You know that boy went a little crazy after… after everything that happened," Lawson continued, looking her in the eye, "Forced into a man too soon. But I got him back on track eventually. He was a good boy, he worked hard in his service to the Navy, even became a hero when he rescued that young teenager from those slavers in Vietnam. He had a family. It was all going well until a man named John McGarrett stepped in and ruined everything again."

His words scared Catherine so much she felt paralyzed. The way he distantly spoke about himself was spooky.

"Where are An's parents?" she persisted.

"An," he said her name with a half laugh, "Oh, poor sweet, innocent, vulnerable An. She's none of those things, you know? She is very good at what she does. She told me all of it. How she used my daughter to try and set me up. Melanie was made to blackmail Chase and Dugan. An even got Myer to think he was calling the shots. And how she used your dear friend, Billy," he laughed, "An originally wanted to make Billy Harrington take the blame. She killed Dugan and then his best friend - made it seem Billy had done it for the money."

She wanted to stop him, knowing none of it was the truth. But Catherine couldn't help wonder if his web of delusional lies might actually slip upon some ounce of fact.

"An thought maybe if she sent Steve pictures of Billy and Catherine, he'd get pissed off at Billy. Billy would defend himself and kill Steve for her. Because that's what An wanted, Steve McGarrett dead. His mother killed her parents, her real parents. And if Steve was dead without getting her hands dirty then it would be a perfect crime."

"No crime is ever perfect," Catherine finally interjected, "Just like no relationship is ever perfect," she tried to turn things back to an emotional level, still hoping to sway him into giving up the location of An's parents. Dead or alive, it didn't matter to her at the moment.

Lawson grinned, "Look at you being all philosophical," he scoffed. "You know nothing about me or my life," the man sighed, "My precious wife was cheating on me and had been for years before she died. And my dear daughter, she became closed off, bitter. She even helped An as a means to stick it to me for being a crap father. An planted that seed in Melanie's head, putting her plan in motion to soil Steve McGarrett's good name on this island by making people believe he killed his friend, Billy Harrington, in a jealous rage."

"You're twisting things," Catherine sighed, afraid she was losing him.

"That's what life is all about," Lawson adamantly insisted, his voice raised to a grander tone, "Manipulating the truth, changing who you are to serve others, adapting to become what society wants. You can run away, try to hide out, try to change everything to fit some normal life, but it always catches up to you. You came here for the truth, didn't you? Well, the truth is that you can't escape. You can never run far enough or fast enough!"

Catherine turned her back on him, tuning him out. He'd devolved so far she was afraid they'd never get back on track.

000

The store looked very much the same as Danny remembered, dusty and cluttered. "Sam, was Steve here this morning?" he asked the antique store owner.

His head of thin, gray hair nodded, "Yes, he came to me for a favor. Steve is a fine man, he visits often to check on me, worries about me being on my own here," Sandor smiled, "He remembered my sign in the window, engraving services. For this," the man reached for a blue velvet box on his counter. He pried it open to reveal a simple, delicate rose gold wedding band. "Shortly after he found Catherine alive, he came to me and asked if I would find a band such as this to match my grandparent's ring."

Kono smiled, indulging the man who'd she heard was able to talk an ear off, "And you did."

"Of course," Sandor nodded, "Steve McGarrett saved this shop for me. I will always owe him a debt of gratitude."

"What about me?" Danny asked, looking offended.

Sam smiled, "Yes, of course, detective, you were here that night as well."

Danny shook his head, "Steve came to get the ring then?"

"Not exactly, well… yes," Sam stammered a moment, "I had already showed him the ring a few days before Christmas. He was hesitant about it, though, about asking Catherine to marry him. He said it wasn't what she wanted. But I told him not to think about it so much. He wasn't very happy for the advice. No matter," Sam waved his hand dismissively. "I said I would hold on to the ring if ever he wanted it. I was so pleased this morning when he arrived and he asked if I would be able to prepare it for him."

"Prepare it how?" Kono asked, "Clean it?"

"No, I was referring to the engraving he wanted done," Sandor waved a hand at his front window sign, having just told them about it. "Steve asked if I could have it done by tomorrow for a New Year's Day wedding. I promised I would, even if I had to stay up all night to finish."

The chimes on the front door jingled as Duke walked inside and met them at the front counter. "We pulled three sets of prints off the Mercury and are running them now. CSU couldn't find anything else to indicate where Commander McGarrett might've been taken."

"What about surveillance cameras in this neighborhood?" Kono hadn't noticed any in the shop, "Did you find any in the alley or along this block?"

Duke's head shook, "None. This area is known for gang activity. They search for and take out any cameras that go up so they can keep eyes off them."

"Okay," Danny decided, "Duke, have the Mercury taken to the lab and get a team to go over it again."

"Will do," the older officer agreed before ducking out of the shop.

Kono and Danny performed a thorough sweep of Sandor's antique shop, upstairs and down, just to be sure An hadn't managed to sneak Steve inside somehow. Danny wouldn't put it past the woman to hide him right under their noses. But, after not finding any sign of them, Kono went to call Chin while Danny returned to the front counter, "Sam, if you can think of anything else I want you to call me right away," he insisted. "And stay alert around here."

The shop owner nodded, "Of course, but I will be too busy tonight with the ring to remain very alert. Engraving takes great attention to detail for me, especially with my age and poorer eyesight these days. And my hands are not as steady as they once were."

"Sam, I…" Danny sighed regrettably, "I really don't know that we'll need that ring by tomorrow."

"Commander McGarrett asked for it by tomorrow," Sam replied with a firm tone, "I made him a promise. I will have it done."

000

"You caught anything yet?" she asked, plopping herself down on his knee.

Steve smiled as he shifted the fishing rod over so he could wrap an arm about her waist. He leaned it for a kiss and was rewarded with a groan inducing lip-lock, "Actually," he pulled back, knowing it was a small boat and sex with Freddie and Kelly nearby in such close quarters was not really on his priority list of fun things, "I just caught the strangest fish," Steve kissed her earlobe, "Gorgeous legs for a fish," his hand wandered along her thigh and across her bikini-exposed midriff.

"Umm hmm, I know this fish you speak of," Catherine played along, wishing they were alone, "Rare ones - the Navy Lieutenant fish. They're hard to catch and they certainly don't dare swim in SEAL infested waters. But oddly enough they very much enjoy being caught by SEALs."

He wore an amused grin, "Sounds like those Navy Lieutenant fish are a bit of a fickle, teasing sort of fish," Steve allowed his lips to find hers again.

"Are you listening to these two?" Freddie sat on the edge of the lounge chair. He flashed Kelly a disgusted look, "What's happening to my Smooth Dog?"

Kelly handed him a paper plate that was heaped with a ham sandwich, carrots and barbeque potato chips. She stared down at him, hands on her hips, "Wouldn't hurt you any to be a little more romantic," she replied, "Your last name is Hart after all."

Freddie sat the plate down on the lounge chair and jumped to his feet. Without warning he lifted Kelly's slight form into his arms, her blonde hair flicking across his face. Freddie took two steps over to the side of the boat's deck and then promptly tossed her overboard into the water. Steve handed his fishing rod to Catherine as he stood. "That wasn't cool, man," he stood in front of his best friend, "No way to treat a lady."

"Oh, yeah?" Freddie challenged.

Catherine shook her head, knowing they were both joking around.

"But not a bad way to treat an idiot SEAL," Steve declared just before sweeping Freddie's legs out from under him and sending him overboard as well.

Steve headed back to where Catherine was sitting with his fishing pole. He leaned down to kiss her, "Now that we have the boat to ourselves…"

She used Steve's state of distraction to her advantage, pushing against his chest with one hand and causing him to lose his balance. He fell backward over the side of the boat.

When he breached the surface, Steve could see she was laughing at him. "Think you're cute, don't you?" he shook his wet head of hair.

"No one else left up here to push me off," Catherine shrugged.

Freddie swam up behind Steve and dunked his head under water. Kelly did the same to Freddie and the three-way water fight began. Catherine watched them, laughing at their childish behavior. She was just about to toss herself overboard when she felt a strong tug on the end of Steve's fishing line. The reel began to spin quickly and she grabbed it, holding it tight, "Guys, I think I've got something here," she said, fighting against the fish to reel it in.

"That's good, slow and steady," Freddie was the first to cheer her on from the water, "How the heck did that guy latch on with us making so much racket in the water?"

"It was probably your bare chest that spooked him," Kelly teased her boyfriend, "He ran off in fright and got hooked."

"Hang on," Steve swam toward the back of the boat, "Let me help you…"

Catherine felt the fish pull free from the water with a swift jolt. "Ha, yes," she grabbed the nearby net and easily scooped up the fish in it.

"Very nice catch, Catherine," Freddie commended her.

"No, not her catch…" Steve frowned as he pulled himself up onto the boat, "That was my line. I baited it, and I…"

"You walked away to push me into the water," Freddie concluded as he climbed back onto the boat and helped Kelly out of the water, "Catherine reeled it in," he eyed the shiny muted-red fish, "Makes it her fish in my book. And screw the sandwiches; we're having a nice red snapper meal," he rubbed his hands together, "Although… it only looks big enough to feed three. Steve, you'll have to catch another for yourself," he teased.

"Who's gonna cook?" Kelly asked as she toweled off.

Steve and Freddie both shrugged, "I'm no cook," Freddie was the first to bow out, "You know that, Kel."

"I'm better with steaks," Steve added his lame excuse.

"And my family was always famous for takeout rather than cooking," Kelly declared.

All three of them turned to Catherine. Her proud smile quickly turned into a frown, "Seriously?" she looked to Steve first, "You grew up in Hawaii," her gaze shifted to Kelly and Freddie, "And you two have lived here in Florida since high school. You all fish but you don't prepare it?"

"My mom taught my sisters to cook, not me," was Freddie's only defense.

"Dad was the cook in our house," Steve tried to win her over with a smile, "But I know you're a great cook."

Catherine could only roll her eyes at him, "Next time, buddy," she pushed against his chest again, "You owe me dinner."

Freddie took the netted fish from her, "I'll at least clean it for you," he offered, "Help me, Kel," he grabbed her left hand and whisked her off into the cabin.

"Come over here," Steve beckoned, drawing Catherine close with one arm. He kissed her briefly, a smile still on his lips as they pulled apart just a fraction of an inch, "There's something we need to do before you cook."

"What's that?"

She'd barely asked the question before he swiftly lifted her into his arms and jumped off the side of the boat with her. Both of them plunged into the water at the same time, creating a huge splash. They came up for air, Catherine first and Steve right behind her. Catherine clung to him, legs resting against his hips as she pushed damp hair out of her eyes, "I've been hoping to get you wet all day," he whispered before brushing his lips against hers.

"Sounds very naughty of you, Commander," Catherine didn't protest as he kissed her again. "I like this."

"What do you like?"

"You in swim trunks, bare chest, relaxed… it's nice," she grinned, "We should do this more often."

Steve smiled as their bodies remained close, pleased to know he made her happy. He treaded water as she kept her legs around his waist and her hands locked behind his neck, "Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air's salubrity," he recited to her.

Catherine's eyes widened, "You're a poet now? Relaxation clearly does strange things to your brain."

"A couple lines from one of my dad's favorites, Emerson," Steve told her, "John McGarrett, Navy man, dedicated police officer, and part-time poetry buff."

Her smile grew a little brighter to hear him speak favorably about his dad. Getting him to talk about family was usually a one-sided event, her asking and him dancing around the subject, "I like a man with layers," Catherine remarked.

He grew reminiscent for a moment, "Dad used to read all sorts of things to me and Mary when we were younger. I think he hoped they might bore us to sleep so he and mom could have some time alone at night. But those few lines stuck with me for some reason. I was nine before I finally asked my dad what salubrity meant."

Catherine instantly recited as if reading from a dictionary, "Favorable to or promoting health."

"How old before you knew the meaning of that word?" he wasn't surprised by her knowledge.

"Not till I was studying for the SAT," she admitted. "I'd like to meet your dad. He sounds like a great guy. Not sure why that didn't rub off on you, though."

"I think I've just been insulted," Steve joked along with her. The water lapped around them, sun beating down, "Dad's going to be in California for Thanksgiving visiting my Aunt Deb and Mary. Well…" he paused, "I guess if Mary will let him see her." Steve tried not to dwell on that, "I don't know what your holiday plans are, you going home?"

Catherine's head shook. "My mom and Ted usually do something with his family. Dad is always away."

"I'm not sure where either of us will be then, but maybe if we can arrange leave at the same time again," he looked hopeful, "We could take dad to Coronado for lunch. I know this little coffee shop there that's done up all fifties style. He'd like it."

Her eyes lit, "And maybe we could go for a walk along the beach afterward. I'm liking this plan."

"Yeah?" he kissed her.

She nodded, "I like when we make plans."

Steve blinked, but everything had gone dark. The sunlight was gone. The boat was gone. Catherine was gone.

His eyelids felt heavy and it took him several seconds to come around, consciousness slowly reawakening all of his senses. His mind remained stuck on the memory of her face as she'd spoken those last words, "I like when we make plans." She'd looked and sounded so hopeful.

As that memory fully faded to the background, Steve did his best to assess the situation. Last thing he remembered was walking toward the Mercury in the alley behind Sam's shop.

He couldn't recall anything after that. But the throbbing pain at the back of his head made it pretty obvious that he'd been knocked unconscious and taken somewhere. However that had occurred he knew his team and Catherine would be doing everything possible to find him, which meant he had to be just as diligent. But as he blinked again, Steve realized he couldn't see anything. A blindfold was cutting off his ability to see.

So he quickly relied on his other senses. He could feel that both hands were tied behind his back and around a girth of something that felt like metal pipe. Didn't feel like handcuffs restraining him, though. Some sort of rope that was chafing and already cutting off his circulation. Legs were similarly tied at the ankles. The blindfold fabric was made of a soft cloth that held a slight hint of perfume; roses. Not a scent he associated with anyone familiar to him.

His lips were a little dry and the corners of his mouth sore from a gag.

The most identifying thing was a gentle breeze and the sunshine he could feel against his cheeks. It was warm. They were outside somewhere, still daytime, maybe late afternoon or early evening. He sniffed, smelling past the roses. Steve took a deep breath in as he tried to determine where he was based only on smell. Salt. There was a distinct note of salt in the air. And the breeze wasn't strong enough to have caused the ocean's saltiness to waft a long distance. He had to be close enough to the ocean to smell it.

But he couldn't hear waves. All he heard was the wind and the sound of cars.

Downtown, Steve pinpointed the most likely location. Close to the water, but also traffic.

"You're awake."

His head lifted a little and turned left toward the voice. Steve hadn't spoken to the woman much but he recognized her voice.

Seconds later the gag was untied and removed from his mouth.

He spoke her name, "An," recalling the hint of roses that had trailed her the day she and Billy had arrived at Catherine's retirement party, "Is this your idea of a fun way to spend New Year's Eve?" Steve asked, hoping like crazy that Catherine and his mother were right about her being harmless - at least more harmless than Lawson.

"As long as Catherine does her job you should be home in time to ring in the New Year with her and Evan," An replied, her voice a monotone.

She was trying not to give away anything in her voice, but Steve sensed tiredness in her tone. "What did you ask from Catherine? You want her to talk to Lawson, don't you?" he guessed, "See if she can get your parents location out of him."

"You're good," An replied.

"So are you," he sighed, frustrated to think Catherine was being forced to confront Lawson again, this time most likely on her own. "I was definitely distracted this morning," he thought about his request of Sam at the antique shop, "You knew exactly when to strike, didn't you?"

"Lawson did teach me a few useful tricks," she said, "Strike when the enemy is defenseless or distracted."

He thought about that a moment, "No one helped you?"

"I waited until you were alone. Lawson also taught me that being alone is the only comfort you'll find in this life."

There was hatred in her voice as he listened closer. Steve tried to use it, "I'm not your enemy, An. Lawson turned into an animal years ago," he told her, "He has no feelings, no sense of right or wrong. He's the loner, not you. You have your parents, you love them. Lawson is not going to help us, not you and certainly not me. He won't give us anything."

"But maybe Catherine," An insisted, "I've spent time with him, lots of time. I traveled with him before I was allowed to meet my brother," she remembered, "Nick would talk to me for hours on end about the things he'd done and what was yet to come. But every time he mentioned Catherine there was something different in his voice. I don't know exactly what," she took a breath, "Not annoyance or cruelty like I'd grown used to. It was almost like he cared about her."

That observation caused Steve a great deal more worry as he tried to flex his hands, feeling them grow numb. "Then I'll use that to my advantage when I talk to him."

"No, you stay here for now," the woman declared. "Catherine will work better with you missing as her incentive."

"Why would you do that to her," Steve felt his stomach twist into a knot again, worried about Catherine, "Are you jealous of her, because of her past with Billy? Is that why you want to hurt her like this by throwing her into a matchup with Lawson? You know what that's like, why would you hurt her that way?"

He could hear her feet shuffling back and forth in front of him, "I tried to help her, and…" An grew frustrated, "It got me nowhere. So now I'll use you. I'll kill you if I have to."

"I don't believe you," Steve declared.

"You should," she replied.

The malice behind her tone was new and it did worry him a little. "An, if you untie me I'll help you."

"I don't believe you," she returned. "Wo Fat told me about your family and mine; about my mother, my birth mother. He told me how much our father loved her. After Wo Fat's mother died in childbirth, Wo Min wasn't sure he'd ever find love again but then he met my mother. He rescued her from some horrible slave trade business she'd gotten caught up in."

Steve took a shallow breath, "An, you know none of that's true."

"Wo Fat also told me what your mother did," An persisted, "How she destroyed our family. Doris McGarrett killed my parents, both of them. All because she thought they were some sort of criminals. But it was my father who'd taken down that slave ring. Worst of all, though, she pretended to be my mother's friend after my father allowed her into our family home."

"You're mistaken, An," Steve tried to keep his voice calm. He still couldn't see her, but he was worried about the woman's fragile state of mind. She'd knocked him out with something in that alley, and he had to guess it'd been a gun. That made him tread lightly, but not back down, "Wo Fat lied to you. You already know that truth. Isn't that why you're trying to fight Lawson, why you've tried to help Catherine in the past? Wo Min allowed my mother into his home because he believed she was one of his slaves."

Her voice cracked, "No. No, it didn't happen like that. I can't… those aren't the sort of people I came from. After my brother was arrested by you, Nick showed up to help me," she insisted, "Nick told me my family was waiting for me and that he could get my brother free if I helped him. He taught me to be strong, to believe that family would prevail."

"Lawson didn't help you, An," Steve could hear she was on shaky ground. He understood she could go either way and needed to help her see the truth, "All he did was use you. Used you to help him set up Billy and abduct Catherine. All because of some misguided plan of revenge for what he feels my father did," he sighed, feeling like he was repeating himself, "My father did his job. The only thing Nick Lawson's done is twist the truth. He got his own daughter killed. That's the kind of man he is, An. Wo Fat lied to you."

"He was my brother," she tried to make that a valid argument.

"No, he was never a brother to you," Steve thought about Mary and all the years he'd wasted thinking she didn't need him, "My mother was a friend to your mother. She was trying to get your mother away from Wo Min, away from the slave trade that he started. Li Jia was your father's slave, An. Wo Fat and Lawson twisted those details in order to get you on their side," he tried to make her understand, "But you fought them, didn't you?"

Silence filled the air between them.

"Everything you did, helping Catherine on the ship," Steve went on, "Was that just to try and gain her trust so you could do this to her? Were you really on Lawson's side all along? Are you still working with him? No," he answered for her, "If you were you wouldn't be here holding me and trying to get Catherine to find out where your parents are."

He waited to see if those words would sink in.

"Who told you all of that?" she finally asked, "The stuff about your mother helping mine?"

"My mother told me," he replied.

"And you believe her?"

"I choose to believe her, yes."

"But she faked her death when you were a teenager," An was more confused than before, "Nick and my brother both told me that. They said she stayed away from you for twenty years. So why do you believe her now? Or did they lie about that as well?"

"No. It's true what they told you about her staying away. She lied to me by making me think she was dead all those years," Steve took a deep breath. "And part of me will always hate her for that. But I know she did it because she thought it was her only choice. She thought she was protecting me, which is what your mother wanted, to protect you. You can trust me, An. I won't lie to you. Our parents made mistakes, but we don't have to be like our parents. And we certainly don't have to relive their sins."

"Maybe it's too late to turn back now," she whispered.

He shook his head, "I don't think it's ever too late to choose to do the right thing," Steve countered. "You realized your mistakes a while ago. You tried your best to help Catherine, and now you're trying to help your parents. Maybe not going about it in the best way right now, but…"

"How do you know if someone is telling you the truth?" An wondered.

"You trust them," Steve replied.

"Do you think Catherine can get him to talk?" she asked.

Steve sensed she didn't want to focus on herself any longer. He heard a trickle of doubt creep into her tone as she spoke. As much as he wished it was him talking to Lawson, or even Danny, Chin or Kono, he knew An was right to put her trust in Catherine. "Any woman who could convince a superior officer to let her off base in the middle of Afghanistan, and go through non-military channels to procure spare parts for a satellite dish…" he couldn't help smile.

"Yes," Steve nodded, "I think she stands a good chance of getting him to talk."

000

Her shoulders slumped, wishing there was something more she could do.

"While I was in Vietnam I was stationed along a major inland waterway, part of a task force."

She spun back around, hearing his tone change again. He sounded more serious than he had all afternoon. Catherine didn't dare say a word, only listened.

"Our job was to protect the river for local fishermen, ensure safe passage," he explained, "We were there mainly to thwart any suppliers using the river to aid the enemy. The rivers were used for a lot of smuggling. It could be grueling work at times; a dozen men assigned hundreds of kilometers of meandering river to guard. We didn't see a lot of fighting, but our commanding officer was a stout little man with horrible breath and an ego the size of Texas.

"He told us every day that we were meant to shoot anyone who was even perceived as an enemy, no questions asked.

"Well, one day a few of my buddies and I were patrolling the shoreline and we came across two women. They had kids with them, a whole line of them, six or seven, boys and girls, ages from about twelve down to babies at their breasts. The women were carting large baskets. We asked where they were headed. To a market down river, they claimed. We followed them for a while and discovered they were transferring supplies to a known enemy base further south.

"We watched them for several weeks and their routine remained the same. When we finally reported what was going on to our commanding officer he ordered us to kill them the next time we witnessed the interchange. My buddies and I tried to explain that children were involved, but our commander yelled at us, saying that was exactly why they took the children along with them as a decoy, to fool us, to play on our sympathetic nature. He said we needed to harden up, it was war and the enemy came in all sorts of forms.

"So the following day we stopped the women again, trying to communicate that they would be killed if they didn't stop helping the enemy. We let them go, but they returned the next day, all children still in tow. Our commanding officer was there that day and he gave the order again, to fire on them. So we did.

"None of us could say whose bullets had hit which woman or child in the group. We were all guilty as we sifted through their bodies, preparing a mass grave for them.

"One baby was not much older than Evan is now. Bullet through his tiny chest, blood soaking the rags he had for clothing. You don't do something like that and return from it to live a happy, well-adjusted, normal life. No fairytales like that exist.

"A few weeks after that ordeal I was on a twenty-four hour leave pass. A friend of mine and I went into Saigon to have some drinks, relax, if that was possible. Alcohol helped for a little while, but it couldn't stop all the nightmares. That day in Saigon I met a man named Wo Min.

"He offered us slave girls for sex, free of charge for the first time. At that point I couldn't help see women as objects, the enemy, something to never be trusted. I returned many times and paid. For some reason Wo Min took a liking to me, welcomed me into the home he had in Vietnam at the time. I think he saw me as easy prey, got in my ear about his business and how lucrative it was. He began to pay me, gave me bribes, more free time with the women in exchange for safe passage of supplies he was sending to the enemy.

"Then he offered me his finest prize at the time, a young American woman named Hannah. She was fair-skinned, blonde haired and blue eyed, a lovely woman in so many ways. But I can't say I ever loved her. Hannah fell in love with me, though, because she thought I'd saved her life. She didn't realize I'd essentially bought her by taking bribes and looking the other way. And I could never look at her and see anything but those women and children I'd killed during the war. It was the same when my daughter Melanie was born.

"But then when Matthew came along I thought I might finally be able to escape the past. I had a son, someone I could raise to be a better man than myself. It took years for me to come around before I finally looked to Matthew as a way for to get over the past, put it to rest for once. But it didn't work the way I'd hoped. Matthew was already a troubled young man by then. He died and everything came back worse than before.

"Those women and their children began to clog my dreams. I couldn't sleep, couldn't hold a job. I had revenge for John McGarrett in mind. And then the son of a former friend stepped in and offered me more bribes, just as his father had. Wo Fat's bribes were for my help in recreating his father's business. He gave me money and means to plot my revenge against John McGarrett and his family. We had a common enemy, and, as they say: the enemy of my enemy is my friend," he concluded.

Lawson shook his head, smiled at her and then turned away, walking back toward his cot, "Or did it really all happen that way?"

Catherine wanted to reach through the glass wall and strangle him with her bare hands for that last comment. Instead she turned to Trooper.

The dog stood patiently besides her, waiting, loyal and protective. Catherine rested a hand against the canine's head, drawing strength and relaxation from both her son and Trooper.

"I know you believe An is your friend, that she's been helping you all this time. But I assure you she's not," he faced her again, smiled again, chuckled softly. "She's been jealous of you since before she ever met you," Lawson informed her, "She knew about you and Billy Harrington sharing a past, working together in the Navy and having a romantic relationship. I made sure she knew all of that before I ever got those two to meet one another. I have been keeping tabs on you for a while."

"You arranged for them to meet?" Catherine was sucked into his mind games again.

He shrugged, "Nothing wrong with a little matchmaking is there?"

She understood what he was attempting to do again, covering his tracks, making himself out to be innocent of any involvement with Wo Fat or An. "So, according to you, An was jealous of me. Why didn't she ever come after me?"

"How do you know she didn't?" Lawson grinned, "She had plans in place, contingencies to assure she'd come out the winner of this war, that building up north and the bomb aboard the Kappa," he revealed, "An is smart. Jealousy and brains is not a good combo. She set off the bomb that blew up the Kappa because she wanted to kill her own brother. She hated that Wo Fat paid more attention to you, just like Billy did. She also created the bomb that nearly took Steve's life recently," he shrugged.

"And…" she sensed he had more to say.

"I can't be certain, but I'm guessing those aren't the only bombs she's planted this past year. Before you disappeared I think she had her sights set on other territory."

"What territory?" Catherine demanded.

The second her voice turned desperate, Lawson ended things. "You were a more worthy opponent today than ever before, child," the man commended, "But I'm afraid I've grown tired of this… again," he turned and walked over to sit down on his bunk.

"Okay," she nodded, willing to pretend he was the one in control again. Catherine extracted Evan from the pack, transferred him to the carrier and strapped him in. She reached for the duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder then grabbed Trooper's leash, clenching it tightly, "You win this round," she put words to her actions, creating a greater show of subservience for his benefit, "I'll go now, take Evan home like you wanted. But I will be back, and then we'll talk… just the two of us."

Lawson made no noise or sign of acknowledgment as she moved toward the door.

She pressed the call button and waited, trying not to display to Lawson how anxious she was to get away from him as quickly as possible. The door swung open with a harsh clang and she rushed through it, waiting patiently until it closed before she relaxed a little. In the sanctuary of the hall Catherine rested her head against the door and closed her eyes for a moment, clutching the handle of Evan's carrier in one hand, Trooper's leash in the other.

Trooper licked her hand reassuringly.

"Are you all right?"

Her eyes opened to find Doris standing there by the guard's room. Catherine's head shook, not trusting her voice.

"I overheard some of your conversation with Lawson when I was at HQ," Doris revealed, "Decided to take a little drive, figured you might need a familiar face here when you were done," she offered what support she thought might be welcome.

"I'm not done yet, not until I find Steve," Catherine regrouped, "I don't think we've gone back far enough."

"Back?" Doris was curious.

Catherine handed Trooper's leash to Doris before she pulled her cell phone from the duffle bag and dialed HQ. She put the phone on speaker.

"Chin, I need you to search further back into Lawson's life for me. I thought figuring out how he and Hannah met in Vietnam was the key, but we're still missing something - parents or some sort of family…" she bit her lip, "He said to me the other day that family will leave you eventually, no matter how much you control them, no matter how you love them. Everyone dies and leaves you alone. He said he was proof of that," those words had stuck in her head, "After talking to him today it feels like it goes deeper than losing his wife and son."

"And there was that slip," Chin replied, "I heard him go off at one point about you not being guilty for your brother's death. He said you protected your brother the best you could. But you couldn't always be there for her. Why the, her?" he pondered.

"Good question," Catherine recalled the moment as well. "He doesn't slip up like that."

"I'll look into it," Chin replied, "Is Doris there with you?"

"I am," the older woman spoke.

"Vichy seems to have disappeared. I got ahold of his team, but no one working with him down in Brazil has heard from him the last twenty-four hours," Chin reported.

"Had a feeling," Doris nodded.

"Thank you, Chin," Catherine disconnected.

The older woman could see how tired Catherine looked, "Why don't we get some coffee?" Doris suggested.

"No," she took a deep breath, "I can't waste any time. I need to head downtown, there's something I want to check out before I talk to Lawson again."

Doris nodded, "I'll give you a ride. But you need to take care of yourself, too, Catherine. You should eat, have some water."

She nodded, "There are snacks in the truck."

A twenty minute drive later, after Doris had nearly force-fed two goji berry energy bars and a bottle of water down her throat, Catherine keyed the lock on the door to her and Billy's old office space. Catherine hadn't been there in so long it felt a little strange. She pushed the door open, reminders of her old life coming back into focus. The offices and her equipment surveillance room at the back of the building. The mats they'd arranged for PT, and a command center just starting to take form in the middle of the space.

Catherine guided the dog inside and let go of her leash.

Doris carried Evan's car seat over to the mats and sat him down there. "What're we doing here?" she wondered.

"Lawson said something about An and different territory," Catherine recalled his odd phrasing. "It made me think. She can't go home to the house her uncle left her because HPD has eyes on that place. Same goes for Lawson's house, Billy's apartment and An's office building. So I thought of this place. An visited Billy here, she probably had her own key made."

"And I noticed this building doesn't have surveillance cameras, or even security guards," Doris sighed, "I take it we're looking for something in particular?"

"Anything An might've left behind," Catherine said as she walked toward the back offices, "Lawson eluded to An being jealous of me. Not so sure I believe that, could be he was just trying to rile me again, push me off her trail. But if she felt I was a threat maybe she planted something here to…" Catherine shrugged, "I don't know, hurt me?"

"Like poison?" Doris figured out what she was leading to.

Another shrug raised her shoulders, "I know you don't think An is dangerous either, but, yes… anything like that. Although I was thinking more along the lines of photos and threatening letters like the ones that were sent to Steve."

"And how is this getting us closer to finding him?" his mother was curious.

Trying to remain positive, Catherine glanced over her shoulder to the woman, "Every bit of information we collect about Lawson or An hopefully gets us closer to Steve," she went into Billy's office first, glancing around. There were a lot of things missing, but she knew his father had been in there to clear out some stuff. The postcard with the tulips that used to sit propped on his desk was gone, along with books, framed photos and some legal documents. Furniture and file cabinets remained.

She sat down at his desk and pulled out the drawers. The top two were empty and the bottom one was locked. She quickly broke in using a paperclip.

Doris stood in the doorway with the baby, Evan resting his sleepy head against her shoulder, "They teach you that in the Navy?"

Catherine opened the drawer and spotted a black metal box. "Is that…" she pulled it out and sat it atop the desk.

"Safety deposit box," Doris realized. She walked into the room and reached out to turn the box around in order to see the front. "That's the same box I rented forty years ago, the one I left with An's information in it. It's locked, too. Want to go for it?"

Without a response Catherine jimmied the lock, but when they opened it they found it was empty.

Her cell phone rang and Catherine answered, putting it on speaker again. "Chin, what have you got?"

"Not much more than we already know," he relayed, "Nicholas Lawson seemed to have an uneventful childhood. He grew up in a small town, got decent grades, and even played basketball in high school. He had a single mother who worked long hours and apparently partied just as hard as she worked. She died in 1969. Records site cirrhosis of the liver as cause of death. That happened when Nick Lawson was seventeen. He joined the Navy shortly after that."

Catherine mulled that over, "Could've been the, her, he was referring to. Maybe he tried to protect his mother but felt he couldn't save her form drinking herself to death."

"He might've blamed himself for her leaving," Doris put in, knowing Steve still carried around similar blame for what she'd done to him, abandoning him. "Maybe that's why he believes everyone will leave him. Everyone has died on him, starting with his mother and extending to his wife and children."

"Danny and Kono couldn't find any lead from the Mercury, they're on their way back to HQ," Chin reported, "What do you need from us?"

She smiled, comforted by their unwavering support, "I'll call you back if I can think of anything, thank you," Catherine disconnected as she stared into the empty box. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would she leave this here?"

Doris balanced the baby as she lifted the box with her free hand, examining it more closely. She took her thumbnail and scratched at the box numbers. Paint flecked off easily. "The original box I signed up for had the numbers etched on and painted over. These are just painted on. This isn't the same box." Doris could see the weariness in Catherine's eyes, "What do you think it means?" she asked, "Symbolic for some reason?"

"It means Lawson is still playing games with me. He's probably the one who left this here. It means I need to go back and talk to him again," Catherine lamented.

Trooper zipped into the room and went straight to Catherine. The dog barked to get her attention.

Catherine looked down at the animal, remembering how Trooper had growled at Billy, sometimes for hours on end. Steve had explained to her about the dog having sensed Billy's condition all along. "What's wrong, girl?" she asked, knowing it was rare for the animal to bark. Trooper actually nipped at her shirt hem and tugged, "I think she needs a bathroom break," Catherine guessed as she stood and took the dog's leash. "I'll take her downstairs if you'll keep an eye on Evan and maybe nose around here some more."

Doris nodded, "You got it."

Out in the hallway Trooper barked again, several times in a row. "Troop," Catherine looked down at the dog, "I know, we're going," she pressed the elevator down arrow button. Part of her was glad for the break, knowing she needed to go back and face Lawson again. Another part of her was annoyed, feeling like they'd already wasted enough time in finding Steve.

The dog tugged at her leash, sniffing at the ground.

"What's with you?" she asked, suddenly feeling something was wrong. The dog was always well behaved, calm, never one to bark or pull so impatiently at her leash. Catherine took her hand off the leash and watched as Trooper took off toward the south end of the hallway, sniffing and stopping to pause, sniffing again and pausing. Catherine followed her to the door at the end of the hall that led to roof access, "Troop?" she took the leash again and used the handle to slowly open the door.

Again the dog tugged persistently at her leash. Catherine let her up the stairs, keeping a tight hold on the leash as they climbed.

A slight breeze greeted them once outside, along with a sight Catherine hadn't been expecting. "Steve?" she jogged along the side of the building toward him.

"Cath," his head turned toward the direction of her voice and Trooper's distinctive gait. Steve felt her hands behind his head just before the blindfold come off. He had to squint for a moment before he regained focus. Steve saw her kneeling beside him, noticed how her eyes immediately accessed the situation. He almost laughed at how her hand reached for his cargo pocket and found the knife he typically carried there. Steve loved how well she knew him, but panic flooded in.

"Wait, she's… Catherine, she's…" his eyes widened, glancing over her shoulder.

Her head nodded, "I know she's here," Catherine didn't bother turning to confirm that An was behind her as she cut through the ropes binding his hands.

With his hands free, Steve took the knife and cut the ropes at his ankles.

Catherine got to her feet and turned around to face the woman. Steve stood beside her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, regaining circulation in his feet and legs.

Deep furrow lines ran across An's forehead. "I wish you'd just done as I asked," her eyes were aimed on Catherine at first. But they shifted to Steve, "You must know there's no way I could've hauled you all the way up here on my own."

Two men came around the right corner of the building.

Steve took a split second to analyze the situation. They were big and burley but he didn't notice any weapons on them. Springing into action, Steve launched himself at the first man, a preemptive jumping axe kick connected with the guy's jaw. Catherine struck the second man with a simple groin strike that took him to his knees. The first guy was disoriented, allowing Steve to finish him off with a blow to the back of his head. Catherine punched her guy while he was down. His unconscious form crumpled at her feet.

She was just about to check on Steve when both her arms were yanked behind her back and something was pressed against her neck.

Catherine recognized the feel of a gun barrel.

He looked up to see a third man had joined them and was restraining Catherine. An stood beside them, the gun in her hand pressed against Catherine's neck. "Hey," Steve held his hands up as he faced them, "An, this is already over. Let Catherine go."

Trooper charged forward, stopping just in front of Catherine and An. The dog stood at attention, her tail ridged as she growled.

"You're right," An agreed, "It is over. I have nothing left to lose."

"So you're going to take what I have left?" Steve asked, eyeing Catherine.

"What happens here today if you kill me?" Catherine picked up on Steve's thinking, "Your parents remain missing and you go to jail."

"Pretty sure I go to jail either way," the woman responded. "This happens one of two ways," An insisted, "Either I shoot Catherine now and Steve helps me get the information out of Lawson. Or," her hand shifted to point the weapon at Steve, "I shoot you and get Catherine to finally make Lawson tell me where they are."

"And our son, Evan…" Catherine turned to look at An, "He grows up without his mom or dad," it nearly broke her heart to think about that possibility. "Is that really how you want to end all of this? Then what, he grows up angry and wants to seek revenge somehow, takes out his anger on someone else. The cycle never ends. But you have a choice, An, you can stop this. You'll go to jail, yes, but no one else loses loved ones needlessly. No child grows up without their parents."

The gun's aim switched again, from Steve back to Catherine. An looking conflicted.

Trooper kept her focus on An, still growling.

"We can change things for Evan," Steve added, "He doesn't have to suffer through the things we did."

"You were there when Evan was born," Catherine pointed out, "You and your friend Pam. You brought her there to help me. You helped me deliver him, helped give him life," she pleaded, "Please don't help take away a part of his life now."

"You should listen to them," Doris said from the open doorway as she held Evan in her arms.

"Mom, no!" Steve tried to ward her off, torn between snatching up his son and whisking him away right that second and rescuing Catherine from the crazy woman with the gun. "Don't bring him over here," he begged his mother, "Just take him back downstairs. Get him out of this building."

Doris took a step closer to the group, "Please, let me try to fix this, Steve. If it can be fixed," she looked to An as she spoke, "I knew your mother. She called you her little dove. And your father, Wo Min," she sighed, "He wasn't a nice man, but I… I believe he might've been at one time. When I was undercover I found out a lot about him. His wife, Le Mie, she was Wo Fat's mother. The story Wo Min told everyone was that she died in childbirth. But that wasn't true. I overheard him talking to your mother one day, he confided in her. He said Le Mie was taken and killed by slavers when Wo Fat was just a few months old."

"How do I know you're not lying?" An shook her head, "You lied to your own children."

"You just have to trust me," Doris replied.

An went silent, recalling the similar thing Steve had said to her a short while ago.

"I think his wife's murder sent Wo Min over the edge, changed him," Doris sighed, "He tracked down the men who killed his wife and then he took over their slave trade business."

"Wo Fat wanted to pass that legacy on to me," An revealed, "After Lawson found me he told me he was going to free Wo Fat and that I'd finally meet my brother, my real family. That draw was…" An paused, "That desire consumed me for a while, until I started to sell myself for it. I did Lawson's bidding, got close to Billy," there was regret in her tone, "I never expected to care about Billy, never wanted to fall in love. By the time Wo Fat was freed I wanted nothing to do with him or Lawson but…"

"They'd taken your parents," Doris finished.

"Yes."

Steve wanted to stop his mother, wanted to snatch his son away from her. But a glance from Catherine told him to stand down.

"Great loss causes people to do things they might never have thought to do before," Doris sympathized.

"I don't know how to make this right," An shrugged.

Doris walked over to Steve and handed Evan to him. She moved toward An again, her hands held outward in a show of surrender, "If you want to blame someone, if you want to kill someone… then here I am," she offered, "Let Catherine and Steve and the baby go. I'm the one you want. I promised your mother I'd take you both somewhere safe, but I failed her, and then I gave you up to Wo Fat because…"

"Because you wanted to believe there was good inside him," An understood, "I know what that's like because I wanted the same thing. I was stupid enough to believe there was good in him, but there wasn't. By the time I realized that it was too late, Lawson already had me, he took my parents and threatened me unless I helped him and Wo Fat. He threatened Billy and Billy's father, too. And I know they had the means to get to all of them. What could I do but help them?"

"Or make it seem you were helping them," Doris put in, "I know you helped Catherine. She's told me some of what you did for her."

"I tried," An sighed, "But then it all got so messed up. I wasn't sure any more if I was helping Lawson in order to get my parents back. Or if I was helping Catherine as a means to pretend that I wasn't a horrible person like my father and brother were," An shook her head and lowered the weapon, "Here, take it," she offered the weapon to Doris. "Take her," An signaled for her man to release Catherine.

Doris grabbed the gun and used it to direct the bulky man over to where the other two still were. She went about using Steve's discarded ropes to tie them up.

Trooper stood her ground, not letting An move. The dog continued to growl at her.

Steve made sure Evan was secure against his left shoulder as he wrapped his right arm around Catherine. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his ear.

"For what?" Steve asked.

"Taking Evan into that cell with me this afternoon," she let out a shaky breath, "Taking Trooper in there, allowing Lawson to get into my head so I could…"

"Hey," Steve pulled back, "Look at me, Cath. I don't know what you had to do today and I don't care. Do you remember what you said to me right after I got you back? You told me that a person does whatever they need to in order to survive. Whatever you did, it brought you here," he smiled, clutching her tighter, "I'm proud of you."

Her head stayed buried against his shoulder for a while until they both heard a familiar noise from behind them.

They turned to see An standing there with her jacket half unzipped. Trooper was still growing.

An stepped backward toward the roof's low parapet wall. She leaned against it, her windbreaker jacket flapping as the breeze kicked up. She pulled the zipper down the rest of the way to reveal three bricks of plastic explosive strapped against her torso, blast caps attached, wires perfectly routed and linked to a detonator. Catherine realized without a doubt that the fake safety deposit box they'd discovered in Billy's office had once housed those bomb components.

"You should all leave now," An said to them, "Go before I set this off," she offered, "Make sure no one else is in the building."

Steve clutched Catherine's hand, just about ready to head toward the door.

Catherine let go of his grasp and instead took a step toward the woman, "You don't have to do this, An." She took up Trooper's leash.

"Mom," Steve turned to Doris, seeing the men were restrained, "Take Evan and leave this time," he instructed, "Please. Contact HQ and get them over here."

"Why would you try to stop me?" An asked, looking to Catherine as the others scrambled around behind them, "This will make your lives easier," she shrugged. "No pesky lawyers to hire, no state funds to allocate for my trial. I'm guilty. I killed Billy and I accept this death sentence."

"I don't," Catherine shook her head. "You were not responsible for those actions, not fully. Lawson got into your head, An. He's done it to me, too. If we can prove he was to blame then we have a case against him. But if you just give in like this, who knows what happens. Maybe he walks free."

"So you want my help?" An chuckled dryly. "Of course, I'm just a means to get what you want."

"No," Catherine felt bad that her words had probably sounded like that. "Doris believes your mother was a good person. And you believe your parents are still alive, don't you. So prove to all of them that there's good in you, too. Don't do this. Choose life. Choose to own up to your mistakes and try to turn things around. If we fight Lawson together, if we convince a jury you were coerced, you get a lighter sentence. You get out of jail and you start over."

"With what?" An shrugged, "I have nothing now, no one. Even if I serve a lighter sentence, who hires me afterward, and who cares to bother being my friend or my family? I'll be alone. Better to die alone now than live the rest of my life that way."

"You're not alone, An," Catherine insisted, examining the bomb a bit closer. She counted five wires, two blue, two yellow, and one red, "You helped me and now I want to help you. I'm here now and I won't leave you alone. I promise."

An felt overwhelmed by those words, "Why?" she whispered.

"Because there have been times in my life when I felt I could do nothing to help save someone in need," Catherine thought about her brother and Bahnam, even her son while they were on that ship, "But right now I see that I can. So I have just one question for you," Catherine held Steve's knife in her right hand, blade extended, "Which wire do I cut?"

Steve had to shake his head in amazement, realizing Catherine had covertly taken the knife from him at some point during their brief embrace.

No one spoke for a moment as the salty-air breeze drifted across the roof, the sound of cars passing by below them.

Glancing down, An stared at the wires for a moment before she finally said, "The red one. It's my favorite color."

Catherine nodded, putting her trust in the woman before reaching out to cut the lonely red wire.

000

Evan's little hand managed to take hold of her arrow necklace and he pulled it toward his mouth.

"Oh, no you don't, nugget," she pried his surprisingly strong fingers away from the gold arrow, "Small things like this can choke you," Catherine gently warned as she stood inside the closet, baby on her hip, eyes scanning the meager content of shirts, shorts and pants. She kissed his fingertips and reminded herself to go easy on the jewelry in coming months as he was bound to grow even more adventurous, learning how to use his hands better.

"I can't believe this is really happening," Catherine reached for a pair of cut-off jean shorts, "What do you think, girl?" she looked over her shoulder to the dog, "Classy, right?"

Trooper sat on the floor right in the middle of the doorway, her blonde head cocked to one side. The canine yawned, as if to say she didn't approve.

Catherine smiled at her faithful friend and tossed the shorts, "I know. Nothing in here is right. Maybe we should've eloped," she sighed as Evan grasped a clump of her hair, "Excuse me, Mr. grabby hands," her head shook at him, "That hurts mommy," she tried to get him to let go as he shoved her hair into his mouth, "You can't possibly be hungry, I just fed you about a half hour ago. You're growing like a weed, nugget. Oh, jeez," she groaned, "And now I sound like my great-aunt Beatrice."

Evan spit out her hair and let go with his hand, making a face at her.

"You're gonna get a hair ball," she glanced down to examine her expelled hair, "And no one is going to care what I'm wearing. They'll just be looking at the baby slobber and spit-up in my hair," Catherine dipped the baby backwards, holding one hand at the back of his neck as she kissed his chubby cheek, "Thanks, nugget," she blew air against his neck and listened as he actually giggled. "You don't care, do you?" she lifted him back to her hip and kissed his cheek again.

A loud knock at her bedroom door sounded and Trooper was on it, bounding across the room.

Catherine stepped out of the closet in time to see her mother and Doris walking right in, patting Trooper on the head. They were followed by Kono, Mary and Grace. All five of them were wearing jeans or leggings, t-shirts and blouses, nothing very elegant. "This is going to be the most casual wedding ever, isn't it?" Catherine laughed.

"Not if we can help it," Molly replied from the doorway, Wendy beside her, "Right this way, gentlemen," the dark-haired teenagers stepped aside so three men could enter the room.

"Molly, what's going on?" Catherine asked as she watched the men.

One guy in khakis and a white t-shirt quickly pieced together a free-standing clothing rack. The other two unzipped several large garment bags and quickly began to fill the rack with hanger after hanger. All of them adorned with dresses and pant suits in various sizes, and multiple shades of the rainbow. There looked to be at least half a dozen different styles in over twenty colors. "We talked to our dad yesterday after the shopping trip got ended abruptly, and he had a great idea. Dad had all these clothes shipped overnight from New York."

"The ones we don't pick to wear today have to go back," Wendy added.

"How many do you think I can wear at once?" Kono joked, already fawning over the fancy attire.

Catherine walked over and hugged Molly with her free arm while Evan tried to snack on her hair again, "Thank you for this."

"Gross, would you please stop being sappy and not bring that baby so close to me," Molly pushed her away, spinning her toward the rack, "Pick out something to wear," she looked around the room, "All of you." Molly's eyes stopped on Grace, "I told dad to send a few things in your size, too, kid."

Grace beamed as she went straight to the dress she already had in mind. She pulled it off the rack and held it for a moment before determining it would fit. "Aunty Cath, I have to go finish your surprise so I'll change downstairs," the girl gave her a quick hug. Grace then gently slapped her thigh to get the dog's attention, "Come on, Trooper, you want to help me?"

The rest of them selected something from the rack and prepared. In record time they were all dressed and gathered around Catherine. After taking a quick shower, Catherine sat patiently while Mary put the finishing touches on her hair and Kono completed her makeup. "Now, for a bit of tradition," Elizabeth stepped forward, smiling at her daughter. "You know I always carry these with me," her hand unclasped to reveal two small pieces of jewelry.

"Grandma's pearl earrings," Catherine noticed.

"I'd like them to be your something old and borrowed," her mother revealed, "Still not quite ready to give them up."

"These are perfect," she thanked her mother, clipping them onto each earlobe since her grandmother had never dared to pierce her ears.

Doris inched forward, "Liz mentioned the earrings to me last night. I managed to find a jewelry store open this morning and found this," she opened a rectangular box and revealed a simple gold chain necklace with a tiny pearl drop pendant. "Your something new."

Catherine handed the necklace to Doris and asked if she'd clasp it around her neck. She left her father's arrow necklace with it, wanting to wear both.

"So, Mary and I…" Kono stepped forward next, "Decided to take on the something blue gift, and we found," she waved a hand at her co-conspirator.

"Ta da!" Mary pulled a lacy blue and white garter from behind her back. She spun it around her finger and grinned, "Pretty sure my brother will appreciate removing this," she joked.

With a shake of her head, Catherine took the item and slipped it up her leg to rest upon her thigh. "I guess that's it then, all bases covered…"

Evan squawked from his place in the portable crib across the room.

"Whoops, how could I forget," Catherine walked over and picked him up, "Old, new, borrowed, blue, and one very special little nugget," she kissed his cheek and delighted in the smile that erupted. "What do you say nugget, should we keep your daddy waiting a little longer or put him out of his misery?"

The baby garbled something nonsensical while trying to grab one of her earrings.

She grinned, clasping a hand around his delicate fingers before he could get a grip, "That's what I thought," Catherine kissed his hand, "Already siding with your daddy."

000

Steve paced. He hated waiting. And he'd been waiting a long time. "Danny, did you remember to…"

"I called the Navy chaplain last night after we got you all back home safely. He's already outside waiting for us," the detective assured his friend. "And the backyard looks great, thanks to me calling in Kamekona and his cousin. For a couple of ex-cons they certainly know their flowers," Danny had to give them credit, "Might be their most marketable franchise yet. We also have enough shrimp to feed a small Army, err… Navy."

That made Steve smile a little, until he turned to Chin, "Did you manage to…"

"The cake was delivered a half hour ago, it stays in the kitchen until the ceremony is over," Chin reassured his friend, "Everything is ready."

He sighed, "Not everything. I really wanted to…"

A knock on the door caused them all to turn toward the sound. Steve took a step toward it but Danny intervened. The detective made his way over and opened it just a crack, "We don't want to risk you catching a glimpse of the bride before the wedding."

"Right," Steve shook his head, "Because that would be bad luck."

Danny spotted a familiar face, "Sam," he opened the door wider.

"Sam," Steve perked up, extending his hand to shake the older man's, "Glad you could make it. Any chance you were able to finish what I asked for?"

The man nodded, "You put me in charge of a most important case, sir," Sandor spoke with his usual flare, "I was able to make it happen, and very pleased to do so for you. I told you earlier this year that my grandparent's ring would find a way to bring you two together, did I not? And here you are now about to be married."

"You were right, Sam," Steve grinned as the man handed over the small blue box.

There was another knock and again Danny did his best to open the door with caution. He stood up a little straighter to see who it was this time.

Governor Denning stood in the doorway, dark suit on. "Can we have a minute, Commander?" he eyed Steve through the narrow opening.

"Sure," Steve nodded to Danny and the others that it was okay to leave them. When they were gone he turned his full attention on Denning, "What's wrong?" he could tell the man hadn't just shown to give his well wishes to the happy couple. He could see the hesitance in the governor's eyes, "Tell me."

The man held an envelope in his right hand that he passed off to Steve, "Just wanted to make sure you got your marriage license."

Steve opened the envelope and smiled, having nearly forgotten that important detail. "Thank you for arranging this, I really appreciate it," he said, though he had a feeling the governor still wasn't being completely honest with him, "What else?"

"I really didn't want to have to tell you this, certainly not today," Denning stalled a bit longer, "But a reporter stopped me just an hour ago, ambushed me outside my office. I couldn't avoid speaking to the press any longer, especially not when they'd already talked to the US Attorney about the same thing this morning. And it'll be on the news tonight. I guess I could've waited until after the ceremony, but…"

"Just spit it out, governor," Steve insisted.

"Do you know the US Attorney here in Hawaii, Naomi Mahelona?" Denning inquired.

"Not personally," Steve responded, sensing he wasn't going to like the news the man was still dancing around. "Seen her name on the news a few times, but that's all."

"She's an excellent trial attorney," Denning toted, "Criminal cases in particular. She was appointed by the president three years ago, very well respected."

"You want to get to the point sooner rather than later, I have a wedding to get to," Steve encouraged, glancing down at his watch. It was already late afternoon and he hadn't seen Catherine all day due to some ridiculous superstition that had probably been negated fifty times over due to their run of bad luck the past year.

"Mahelona doesn't believe there's a case against Nick Lawson," Denning stated. "He's going to be released next week unless any concrete evidence can be presented against him."

Steve let out a shocked breath, sorry that the man had finally gotten to the point. "You've got to be kidding me," his worst fear was becoming reality. He'd promised Lawson that he'd never see the light of day again. And Lawson had played him, asking for a minimum security prison like he was prepared for that outcome, even to the point of trying to negotiate a room with a view. "Sir, this man is guilty of heinous crimes. Slavery, selling babies, abduction," he tried to stress, "He's certifiably crazy."

"Not according to the psychiatric evaluation the state conducted," Denning reported.

"What?" Steve was floored again. "Did they even talk to him?"

The governor nodded remorsefully, "Nick Lawson passed all of their evaluation tests. He even passed a polygraph."

"Why am I not surprised? This guy has been lying most of his life," Steve sighed, "Sir, we have to do something more."

"Trust me, if it was up to me I'd be pulling up a chair at his execution right about now," Denning didn't bat an eye to say such a thing. "I trust your word, McGarrett, every bit of what you've told me this man has done. I trust Catherine Rollins was taken and held captive by him. But the hard facts don't support any such scenario. We don't have ballistics, finger prints, DNA, documents, not a single shred of evidence. And we can't take a man to trial without evidence."

His head shook again, "I have audio of him and Wo Fat with Catherine on that ship," Steve wasn't even close to giving up yet.

"That was considered as part of the review Mahelona did with her team of lawyers," Denning assured him. "But the audio is garbled, voice matches are disputable."

"I could tell who they were," Steve protested, "My whole team could."

Denning nodded, "And how'd you come to find that evidence? You were illegally spying on a private boat in a foreign country. That recording will be the first thing tossed out of court."

"Okay…" Steve let go of that one, "What about the Russell's, or that couple that was detained in California after they bought one of the babies from the Kappa sell? The Russell's had pictures of the baby they thought they'd bought. And what about those giant baby pictures we found in the building up north?"

"Nothing the Russell's or the other couple gave us could be tied back to Lawson specifically. Pictures of babies prove nothing," Denning explained, "No prints were found up north, no trace of any intent-to-buy contracts such as the one the Russell's claim to have signed. The documents that California couple had for their baby passed for the real deal. That little girl was remanded to their custody twenty-four hours after their questioning."

Steve clutched the blue velvet box in his hand, "How about the fact that An Zhou is sitting in a cell right now and willing to testify against Lawson."

Denning's gaze held Steve's, "An Zhou abducted and held you hostage yesterday. She nearly got you blown up. She tried to blow herself up. She's not any kind of credible witness."

"Lawson has been gone for years, how did he explain that to those evaluators?" Steve wondered, feeling his hold slip.

"Claims he's been living alone all this time and…" Denning sighed, "Performing humanitarian work around the world in exchange for meager food and living accommodations," he watched Steve's head shake, "I understand your frustration, Commander, but…"

Steve let out a sharp breath, "I don't think you do, sir. Did this Mahelona woman even bother to watch the video feed from Lawson's cell yesterday when Catherine talked to him? I watched it last night," he revealed, still haunted by it, "Some of the things he said, the way he said them, that's not normal behavior," Steve protested.

"Mahelona watched it, and she believes Lawson is too good an actor to cross examine," he concluded, "I'm so sorry to do this to you today, but I didn't want you to find out some other way," Denning conveyed, "Certainly not by seeing it on the news."

With a nod, Steve tried to take that as a sign of goodwill between himself and the governor, "Thank you, sir," he did his best to be gracious.

"I sincerely hope you don't let this ruin your day," Denning added.

"I won't," Steve agreed.

Danny knocked on the door and stuck his head inside the room, "Word is your bride-to-be is ready."

That made Steve smile, "Then we shouldn't keep her waiting," he pushed all thoughts of Lawson out of his head as he shook Denning's hand before following Danny.

After one brief stop, they made their way into the backyard. Steve was impressed by how quickly his friends and family had rallied around to create the beautiful setting. A simple wooden trellised arch stood in the middle of the lawn, covered with red, white and blue tropical flowers. The chaplain stood beneath the arch, his back to the water. Chin joined Danny and Steve as they moved into position up front, standing just to the right of the chaplain.

There were chairs set up on either side of a middle aisle, guests facing the water. But there didn't seem to be any delineation of bride versus groom side. Ted and Liz along with Doris and Mick were all bunched together in the first row on the left side. Max, Sabrina and Leilani sat on the right. Kamekona and his cousin took up nearly the whole back row of the left side. Charlie and Duke, Grover and his family all sat to the right. Sam sat on the left with Denning.

Only the sound of a few chirping birds and the ocean lapping against the shore escorted Grace as she walked down the center aisle.

Danny beamed proudly and waved at her.

She wore a turquoise dress that swished against her sandal-clad ankles as she walked. Trooper strode on her leash beside Grace. There was a harness rigged to the dog's back, which held two canvas saddle bags, one on either side of the dog. The pale pink bags matched the canine's special pink wedding collar and leash. Each bag was adorned with colorful hand drawn flowers and Grace had cut small slits into both saddle bags so flesh flower pedals fell onto the grass with every step the Labrador took.

"My little science project monkey," Danny said to Steve, another proud smile in place.

"Good girl, Trooper," Grace praised the easygoing dog as they neared the front, "Hi, Uncle Steve."

"Hi, Gracie," he stooped down to kiss the girl's cheek and patted Trooper's head.

Still no music played as Kono walked down the aisle in a royal blue dress that hit her mid-thigh. She was followed quickly by Mary who had on a pale blue tiered dress.

Each of them carried bouquets of ice blue calathea and white orchids with fern fronds interspersed.

Steve smiled like a little kid when the first few notes of Catherine's favorite Chicago hit, Make Me Smile, drifted across the backyard. He waited with anticipation as he spotted David standing near the back door, head turned and obviously waiting for his daughter to appear. Steve let out a small sigh of relief when he caught sight of Catherine linking her right arm with her father and stepping over the threshold. All eyes were on her as she walked down the aisle.

Her dress was simple elegance, white silk that clung to her figure down to her ankles. A low cut cowl neck with narrow shoulder straps. Her hair was pulled back behind her left ear, held by a modest rhinestone studded clip. The rest of her hair hung down over her shoulder on the right.

His smile grew brightest as he saw that instead of a bundle of flowers she held fifteen pounds of baby boy snuggled against her left side.

Evan was wide awake and smiley, reaching for his left foot and seeming to glance ahead to where his daddy stood. He had on a comfy, cotton, navy blue romper that was covered with white ship anchors. As they neared, Steve chuckled to see the small patch across the left side of Evan's outfit that read: Mommy's First Mate.

Catherine was surprised by how calm she felt, her gaze locked on Steve.

She tried to take it all in, savoring each step she took toward him. The feel of her father's guiding hand. The reassurance of Evan's soft baby skin pressed against hers. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the sandy beach. Her favorite song playing softly in the background. And the only man she could ever imagine being married to standing just a few feet away. Steve dressed in his perfectly pressed, full dress white uniform. Gold buttons down the middle, medals over the left breast pocket, all of them gleaming in the sunshine.

He was clean shaven and stood with both hands behind his back, at ease. He'd even opted to wear the traditional sword tucked up against his hip.

When she was just a few inches away from Steve her father stopped and turned to her. David smiled and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Be happy, my warrior princess," he whispered in her ear before turning to sit in the front row beside her mother and Ted.

"Happy New Year," Steve greeted her.

Catherine grinned, "Happy New Year. Looks like we both managed to make it here today. I like when we make plans."

His smile widened, nodding in agreement, "That's an interesting bouquet of flowers you've got there," Steve looked down at his son before bringing both hands around front. He presented Catherine with a single white plumeria bloom. Steve traded her, the flower for the baby. Evan grinned and kicked his feet as Steve lifted him and kissed his cheek. His eyes cast over Catherine's shoulder to his sister, "Mary, do you mind?"

Mary handed her flowers to Kono before reaching for her nephew. She stepped back and held the little guy so he was facing his parents.

With his full attention back on Catherine as she tucked the flower behind her left ear, Steve's eyes appreciatively roamed her curves, "You wore a dress?"

"Special occasion and all," she shrugged.

"I like it," his brow arched, "You look gorgeous."

She smiled again, listening to Evan babble behind them, "I considered putting on the camies for you," Catherine joked, but could see the second raise of his brow in a much more suggestive manner, "Maybe later," she winked, "I figured you'd probably be wearing your dress whites so I figured I should match."

"I know you prefer the whites," Steve recalled.

"I do," Catherine's eyes deliberately ogled his figure as well.

He grinned, lowering his voice a little, "I don't think you're meant to say those words until a little later."

Catherine took a deep breath, "I can't believe we're really here."

His brow crinkled a little, "You having second thoughts?"

"Not at all, let's do this," she declared.

"The let's do this approach… my kind of girl," he winked.

The chaplain took over, greeting everyone and running through the first strains of the wedding ceremony. When he got to the part about anyone having objections to the marriage, Danny turned a narrowed eye on the small crowd. "You'll have to deal with me," he challenged.

"And me," Mary added, rubbing Evan's belly with one hand.

That sentiment continued to pass from person to person around the backyard, both serious and jokingly. There were no objections.

"Now I believe Steve and Catherine would like to say a few words of their own," the chaplain turned it over to them.

Steve swallowed; his attention completely on Catherine as he spoke. "I wasn't sure what to say when you asked if we could create our own vows, still not sure," he admitted. "You know I'm not the one in this relationship who's very good at talking."

He could only smile as he watched her struggle to keep from crying. Steve took her hands in his, "On my good days I still seem to expect the worst, but hope for the best. You've helped me see more of the best in life, Catherine, and I'm always very grateful for that," he stated, "And these last few weeks when you were experiencing some of those really bad moments, I did my best to help you fight through it and get to the better stuff."

She nodded, one tear working its way down her cheek.

"I don't believe in making false promises, but you already know that," Steve watched her nod again, "I believe in trying to do your best every day. Sometimes that means you go to bed happy. And sometimes it means you end the day arguing," he shrugged, "But the way I figure, every day from here on out always ends the same way, and that's with me loving you, Catherine," Steve vowed. "Through all of it."

Catherine took a moment before speaking, "When you asked me to dance the night we met I never imagined we'd end up here." Her lips pressed together nervously, "To be honest, I was quick to judge your SEAL status and cocky attitude."

She looked him in the eye. "I was wrong about that snap judgment. And I've been glad about being wrong every day since then. When we talked that night you showed me a guy who was both strong and vulnerable. I'm not sure why you chose to open up to me, but I'm thankful for every small moment that I've been able to spend with you, and the slow glimpses of the real you that have emerged over the years. I feel very lucky to keep learning new things about you."

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he listened to her.

With her hands still firmly squeezing his, Catherine smiled again, "I knew I loved you very early on because of the way you trusted me enough to open up. And I hope to spend the rest of my life getting to know you, Steve," she vowed, "Getting to love you."

"You're still better at this talking stuff," he grinned.

Her shoulders gave a small shrug, "I thought you did a pretty good job."

Steve leaned forward.

"Ahem," the chaplain cleared his throat. "I have a few last things to cover before the kiss," he eyed Steve.

"Right," he pulled back a little, "Sorry."

"Do we have the rings?" the chaplain asked

"Oh, I have those," Grace walked Trooper over to stand between Steve and Catherine, "Did you see Trooper earlier?" Grace asked Catherine.

"I watched from the door," Catherine nodded, "She was a perfect flower girl. Great surprise," she gave the girl a quick hug.

"Trooper is the ring bearer, too, since Evan was too little," Grace said as she untied a blue ribbon attached to the dog's collar. "Here," she placed one ring in Catherine's hand and another in Steve's before guiding the dog back over to the side with Kono, Mary and Evan.

"Catherine, as you place the ring on Steve's finger repeat after me," the chaplain instructed, "With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring…" Catherine held the wide rose gold band out, preparing to place it on his left ring finger. She frowned when Steve pulled back a little.

He curled his ring finger toward the palm of his hand, "I had it sized to fit my middle finger," Steve let her know. "Wanted to match."

Catherine felt a lump form in her throat, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he agreed.

She smiled, "You just want the ladies to think you're not married."

Steve chuckled, "Yes, you found me out."

Incredibly touched by his gesture, Catherine slipped the ring onto his left middle finger, "With this ring, I thee wed," she concluded.

The ring he'd gotten Sam to help him with, a simple rose gold band, was now adorned with delicate plumeria blooms etched around the outside, "I know I'm not always the best at saying it, so I wanted to be sure you had a constant reminder with you," he held the band so she could see the inscription inside.

Catherine read it aloud, "S+C," she liked how it mirrored the antique engagement ring. Her voice was a mere whisper as she read the rest, "I love you."

He took the ring and gently guided it onto her left middle finger where it fit perfectly up against the sapphire engagement band, "With this ring, I thee wed."

"Now that you've pledged your intent with an exchange of vows and the giving and receiving of rings, it's my pleasure to announce that you are husband and wife," the chaplain declared, looking outward to all those gathered, "May you all rejoice in this happy union," he turned to Steve, "This is the point in which you may seal your pledge with a kiss."

Steve's thumb lovingly rubbed against the wedding rings she wore as he brought her left hand to his lips. He gently kissed the soft nub of flesh where her ring finger had been removed. One hand moved to her waist, drawing her closer. The other pressed against the back of her neck as he leaned in. She cupped either side of his face with her hands, eyes closed, everything else melting away as their lips touched. For a moment they were completely alone.

Then everyone clapped. Trooper barked, and Evan started crying.

"Aw," Catherine pulled out of the kiss and turned to take the baby from Mary. "It's okay, nugget," she whispered reassuringly to her son, positioning him high against her left shoulder while rubbing his back, "Everyone's just really excited for us."

With a hand against Catherine's on the boy's back, Steve kissed Evan's forehead, "That's right, mommy and daddy finally made you legal."

"Don't tell him that," she rolled her eyes at him, "Good grief, how can you be so romantic one moment and a complete caveman the next," Catherine sighed.

"All part of my top secret Navy SEAL training," Steve teased, snaking an arm about her waist as they made their way down the aisle.

A party ensued right there in the backyard. And they were congratulated numerous times.

"I'm Sam," the old man took Catherine's hand and kissed the back of it.

"Sam?" she smiled, "You mean, Sandor? You're Sandor and Caroline's grandson?" Catherine glanced down at her rings.

"You know my grandparent's story? Steve told you?" Sam beamed proudly.

She nodded, "He did, it's such a great story."

"I assure it is all true," Sam avowed, standing up straight in his nearly three decades old brown tweed suit. "I would not lie to such a beautiful woman on her wedding day. You remind me of my grandmother. Of course I never got to know her in person, but my grandfather always told me how beautiful and courageous she was. I hope the ring is not cursed as Steve once thought. Thank you for having me here today. It does an old man's heart good to see love is alive."

Steve smiled as he watched Sandor talk Catherine's ear off.

"Hey, big brother," Mary caught his attention. She laughed when he finally pulled his eyes away from Catherine.

"How's the little guy?" Steve asked.

"Good, he went right down for his nap after I fed him," Mary smiled, "He's so sweet, must get that from Catherine."

He stuck his tongue out at her.

"Very mature," she shook her head, "So… there's something I want to talk to you about," Mary grew serious. "You know that job I took in California right after Thanksgiving?" she watched him nod, "Yeah, well, it kind of didn't work out very well for me," Mary noticed his disapproving frown, "But that's a good thing because I was thinking about how mom has been living here on Oahu now for a while, and Catherine is back, and I have an adorable nephew."

"Where are you going with all this?" Steve finally asked.

"I think I want to move back here, back home," Mary revealed, "How would you feel about that? It's just… it seems like our family is finally starting to heal and this place is starting to feel like home to me again. Mom said I could stay with her for as long as I need. I'll get a job here, eventually find my own place. And I can babysit anytime you want."

Steve looked down at her with concern in his eyes, "You sure about living with mom?"

Mary shrugged, "If it doesn't work I can find a roommate somewhere."

"You've always got a room here," he assured her.

"Right, imposing on the newlyweds and infant," she shook her head at that idea, "Thanks, but I'm gonna say no. Mom and I will be cool. I think. I hope," Mary shrugged, "But what do you think about me moving back here? Are you okay with that?"

"Mar, of course I'm okay with it," Steve hugged her, "You don't need my permission. I would love to have you here all the time. I've missed you," he looked her in the eye, thinking about all the times Catherine tried to get him to talk to his family more often, "I've missed you for a long time, Mary," Steve kissed her temple.

Catherine found them like that, hugging.

They cut and ate cake. Watched Trooper beg all of their guests to play fetch with her.

Then the simple lyrics of another Chicago song drifted across the yard from the old record player that was set up outside. Catherine was chatting with Kamekona and his cousin when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Steve standing there with his right hand extended, "Dance with me?" he asked, "Just one dance," Steve repeated what he'd said to her that first night, "And when it's over, if you feel absolutely nothing… we both walk away."

"And if I feel something?" she played along.

He shrugged. "I guess we keep dancing."

Catherine chuckled as she took his hand, "You're on, sailor."

000

"I wish you didn't have to leave so soon," Catherine said as she stood near the fence out front, hugging her mother.

Her white dress had been slightly modified by the loss of shoes in favor of going barefoot, and the addition of dried baby slobber on the shoulder straps.

The party was still going on out back even though the sun had set.

Elizabeth stepped out of the hug, hanging on to her daughter's hands, "We've probably already over-stayed our welcome. And I have a job to get back to. Ted needs to check in on the shoe store," she needlessly explained, "But we were thinking about visiting again for Easter? Evan might be crawling by then, we could have an Easter egg crawl hunt," she suggested.

Steve nodded, "Easter sounds great," he agreed, leaning in to hug his mother-in-law.

Catherine turned to Ted, "Both of you will come?" she asked her step-father, "And you could invite your… my step-brothers?"

"I'd like that," Ted agreed, kissing her cheek.

"Okay, enough with the long goodbyes," David stepped in to stand in front of his daughter, "What did I always tell you before I deployed?" he asked.

A grin formed as she remembered, "The quicker you say goodbye, the faster we'll see each other again to say hello," Catherine took a step forward and wrapped her arms around her dad's neck. "You'll make sure mom and Ted get home safely?" she whispered for his ears only.

"Promise," the admiral whispered back.

Soft, spongy grass cushioned her feet as Catherine leaned against Steve. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they watched all three of her parents get into the cab. The vehicle pulled away from the driveway and disappeared down the street. "You miss them already, don't you?" Steve asked, kissing her cheek.

"Yep," she sighed, shifting so they were facing, "But we'll have more holidays."

He nodded, kissing her briefly before bending down and scooping her up into his arms. "And now it's time for us to make our getaway, quietly before anyone realizes we've gone," Steve whispered, her dress draped over his arms as he carried her toward the Silverado.

"Steve, where are you taking me?" she glanced over his shoulder toward the house, "We can't just leave, it's rude. What about Evan?"

"I made arrangements for Evan," he assured her, "There's a stock pile of breast milk in the fridge and Mary is staying to watch him while we have a proper wedding night."

"But…" Catherine couldn't help love how he carried her to the truck, opened the door and settled her inside the cab, "Steve, I don't have anything packed. I have nothing to wear other than this dress and it's not very…"

"Cath," he stopped her, "Trust me, you're not going to need clothes."

She smiled contently as he settled into the driver's seat and pulled out of the driveway. He turned right onto the main highway and drove along the coast, past Koko head and further north along the windward side. Catherine kept quiet as she watched moonlight shimmer across the ocean. But when she noticed he'd turned left onto the Pali highway her curiosity was peaked again. "Where are we going?" she wondered.

"It's a surprise," he shrugged.

Catherine kept quite as they entered downtown, wove the city streets, passed through Waikiki and ended up turning into their driveway. "Steve?"

"What?"

"We're home," she waved a hand to the front yard.

"No, we're not," he killed the engine and turned to her, "Don't move."

She watched him walk around to open her door. Catherine chuckled as he lifted her from the truck and closed the door with his hip. "Pretty sure you've lost your mind," she laughed, "We are home," Catherine repeated, though she realized all of their friend's cars were gone. And she couldn't hear any music from the backyard. "You were just killing time to clear everyone out," she realized, "What about Evan and Mary?"

"Evan and Mary are at home," Steve replied, "And we've just arrived outside our bridal suite," he insisted, carrying her over to the side garage door.

A howl of laughter escaped her lips as he opened the door, "We're spending our wedding night in the back of your dad's car?"

"I'm telling you," Steve pushed the door open, "It's a bridal suite."

Her mouth hung open as he flicked the light switch and carried her over the threshold. The garage had been completely transformed, yards of white fabric hung from the ceiling, surrounding the space, hiding all of the work benches and tools along the perimeter. A large Persian rug covered the oil-stained concrete floor, an intricate radiating design of deep blues and coral pinks. Strings of small white lights crisscrossed overhead to create a soft, romantic glow.

Steve's old brass bed had been set up in the middle of the space, satiny white sheets and fluffy pillows.

"This is the surprise Danny was meant to help you with yesterday while I was shopping," she guessed.

He nodded, "Ended up taking Kono, Chin and Danny's help to finish it this morning. I figured you wouldn't want to be too far from Evan," Steve added, "But this way we're at least far enough from the house so Mary can't hear you."

"You're pretty impressive when you want to be," Catherine admired the setting, but focused her gaze on his lips as she kissed him, "You're not the quietest either, mister."

They stood there for a little longer, savoring the moment.

He finally laid her down on the bed, stretching out beside her. "You're way overdressed," Catherine whispered as she began to undo the buttons of his dress tunic.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing," he said, looking down at her wedding gown as he tried to determine the best way to remove it.

Catherine chuckled, pushing open his shirt and sliding it down his arms.

Steve stood and shimmied it the rest of the way off as she crawled toward him, reaching for his belt. Thankfully he'd lost the sword sometime during the party. She wasted no time unzipping his fly and working the white fabric down over his hips and butt. He stepped out of them, staring down at her, "Now, about this dress," he frowned, standing there before her in his boxer briefs. "Is there a zipper? Or do you care if I just rip it off?"

She grinned at his eagerness, turning and pointing to the zipper at her lower back.

He slid it down and watched the fabric slip off her shoulders, thankful for her lack of a bra. Catherine felt his lips connect with the bare skin on her shoulder, not bothering to wait until she could shift the gown the rest of the way off. Steve accomplished that mission for her, pushing her back against the bed and yanking the dress past her hips and legs with one quick motion. She noticed the spark of delight in his eyes as he spied the garter on her left thigh. Catherine worked herself backward against the mattress, allowing him to come after her.

His head dipped, hands at her sides, teeth tugging at the blue lacy garter. Steve removed it slowly, pausing to kiss her inner thigh, behind her knee, ankle.

Once he'd pulled it all the way off, Steve moved back up her body, his lips tracing a path down her neck and along her shoulder blade.

Her eyes closed as she pressed her mouth against his shoulder, fingertips running across the back of his scalp.

One hand smoothed across her belly, reaching for the band of her panties.

One hand trailed down his chest, inching toward the band of his boxer briefs.

They each helped each other remove those last barriers.

She concentrated on breathing in and out, her heart beating rapidly as his lips resumed course. They trailed across her shoulder again, left to right and then down the center of her chest, further south to her belly. Catherine panted as he diverted to one side, his soft, moist tongue licking her hip bone like it was his job. She ached to feel him inside her as he continued his torturous journey across her body, seemingly wishing to drive her mad with anticipation.

"Steve," she took a quick breath as his hands squeezed the junction of her butt and thighs. "Why don't you…"

He looked up from where his lips had just been pressed against her belly, "Hmm?"

Catherine smiled to hear he could barely form words. "Breasts… my breasts," she wasn't faring much better when it came to verbal communication. He pulled back further and she caught her breath, "You keep avoiding them," she voiced, "The last few times since we, since I've been back… you keep avoiding them. And you always used to like them, very much… licking and… other things."

Steve swallowed, moving upward to rest his naked body against her right side, "I still like them very much, Cath, especially since they've grown."

"That won't last," she smiled, hating to disappoint him.

His fingers brushed lightly across her belly, "I guess I just…" he was hesitant at first, "They're not exactly the licking, making love to sort of breasts that I'm used to. They're breastfeeding breasts. It's kind of weird for me. They're more Evan's territory these days. And I don't want to hurt you, aren't they sensitive and… what if I do those things and they end up, you know," he waved a hand over her chest, "Leaking or something?"

She guided his hand upward to cup her left breast. "They're only breastfeeding breasts when I'm nursing," she whispered, "Right now, they're all yours. I want you to touch them, kiss them… you're not going to hurt me. But if they leak and it freaks you out then you can stop. Deal?"

He nodded, "Deal," Steve agreed as he pressed his lips against the right one, still holding the left.

Her fingertips slowly trailed down his chest again until she took him in hand.

000

She woke slowly, eyes opening to see sunlight filter through the white fabric surrounding them.

"Good morning, wife," Steve greeted her, propped on her left side.

Catherine smiled against the pillow, comfy and warm with her stomach pressed against the mattress. "Good morning, husband," her lips curled into a happy grin. "I can't believe we actually got married yesterday, and nothing exploded," she bit her lip, "Poor choice of words."

He caressed her bare shoulder, the sheets only covering them to the waist and barely at that, "How does it feel to me married?" Steve asked, scooting even closer as he pressed his lips against hers, their legs becoming intertwined beneath the sheets.

"Nice, not so different really," she said. "I was a little worried that the sex wouldn't be as good," Catherine joked.

"But I proved you wrong, didn't I," he boasted.

"Three times," she grinned.

"I do like to get my point across," Steve chuckled, "And I'm glad I created this little love nest out here in the garage, because someone was very vocal in giving her thanks last night, over and over… and over," he teased. His eyes closed for a while, reopening to find that she was even closer; their noses nearly touching. Steve rubbed his thumb across her cheek and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I wish this moment could last forever," he whispered.

"What's wrong?" Catherine asked, detecting something odd in his tone.

"Nothing," Steve tried to pretend.

She easily saw through him, "You're a horrible liar. Tell me," Catherine prodded.

His palm rested against the small of her back. As much as he didn't want to ruin the moment, he knew she needed to know what was going on. She'd be upset to find out some other way, via the news or reporters camped out on their front lawn, which could very well be the case once the news broke. "It's about Lawson," he finally said, wishing that name had never become a part of their lives in the first place. But wishful thinking wasn't going to change the facts. "They're releasing him in a few days."

It took Catherine several deep breaths to wrap her head around those words. "Scratch what I just said about nothing exploding. I don't think the phrase 'the honeymoon is over' has even been more apt," she sighed.

They stayed there, cuddled up in their sanctuary.

Steve watched as her eyes closed and a tiny tear escaped. He kissed its saltiness, wishing he could make the pain disappear as easily. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," she replied, her voice a whisper, "I kind of had a feeling this was going to happen."

There was a knock on the side door that caused Steve to draw the top sheet up and over their bare chests. "Mary?" he asked, knowing no one else was meant to be around.

His sister opened the door, holding Evan with one arm and covering her eyes with the other hand. "Are you decent?" Mary asked.

"Nope, completely naked," Catherine called to her sister-in-law, trying to joke, trying to pretend the news about Lawson wasn't freaking her out. She saw Mary's face go pale and watched as Evan kicked his legs, whining softly. "I'm just kidding, Mary," Catherine sat up, securing the sheet under her arms, "Bring the nugget over here.

Mary dropped her hand and peaked out with one eye still closed, one halfway open. Seeing they were covered she finally opened her eyes fully and walked Evan over.

Steve reached out to take the baby, aiding Catherine so she wouldn't risk the sheet falling down.

"Suddenly you're shy?" Catherine questioned her sister-in-law, "I seem to remember someone telling me there'd be a fair fight?"

"What's that?" Steve was confused.

"Yeah," Mary grinned sheepishly, "I was kind of a snot back then. That was before I liked you."

"So you didn't like me?" Catherine asked.

Steve's brow bunched, "When didn't you like each other? What am I missing?"

"Nothing," they said together, laughing.

"Do you two want breakfast out here?" Mary asked, edging back toward the door, "Mom and Mick are bringing over something."

"We'll join you all at the house," Catherine answered, taking Evan and settling him in the crook of her left arm, "But would you mind bringing us some clothes?"

"You got it," Mary agreed before closing the garage door on them.

Evan smiled, clearly happy to be with his parents. He grasped part of the silky sheet material with his long fingers, seeming to test his grabbing abilities once more, "Have you noticed this?" Catherine pointed to the boy, "He's been doing this a lot more the last few days, grabbing stuff," she noted.

"Is that not normal?" Steve shrugged, leaning over to kiss the boy's head.

"Motor skills like that start between four to six months according to the books I've read, so I guess he's in that range, maybe slightly early," she sucked in a breath, hating how everything always led back to thinking about the ship and Lawson, how she'd read for hours on end while being held captive, "Damn him," Catherine swore as Evan let go of the sheet and began to root around, "Sorry for swearing, nugget," she pulled the sheet down and let him latch on.

"Um, Cath…" Steve made a face as he watched her nurse, "You do realize the last thing to touch your breasts…"

She nodded, "Were your lips, yes. So? We share the same drinking glass sometimes, not much different," she shrugged.

"And now they're breastfeeding boobs again," Steve lamented as he watched Catherine tend to their son, continually impressed by the way she always seemed able to roll with the punches. He could tell she was upset about Lawson, though. He'd caught her swear. "Catherine, we're going to figure this out, okay?" he tried to assure her. "We'll figure some way around this."

Catherine nodded, "I hope so."

000

"I didn't think you would want to see me after what I did, but I'm glad you're here," An said.

Catherine took a deep breath, holding the plastic receiver to her ear as the woman behind the glass spoke. She tried to collect her thoughts. It was already January third, two days since her wedding, one day since she'd learned about Lawson being released. She and Steve had spent almost the entire day after their wedding compiling information about Lawson, everything they knew about him. And it had added up to exactly what the US Attorney had already determined, not enough to convict.

"An, I came here to tell you I forgive you," she leaned forward in the hard plastic chair, facing the woman who she'd last seen atop a roof about to blow herself up. Now An was dressed in a baggy orange prison jumpsuit, her dark hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, probably from lack of sleep. "I don't think my forgiveness is going to help you much, though. At some point you're going to have to forgive yourself. I know, because I'm still trying to do the same."

The slightly older woman smiled sadly, "I think I see now what Billy loved about you. You're a strong woman, Catherine. I could never hope to be like you. I hope you raise Evan to be like you. I wish I'd been able to be strong for my parents, instead I got them hurt, maybe even killed."

"Everything you did was for them, An," Catherine tried to convince her, "They're your parents. They love you. I think they'd understand all this."

"How can you be so kind?" An wondered.

"Because I don't ever want to end up like Nick Lawson," Catherine replied with the conviction of a tsunami barreling toward shore, "And because I want to teach my son how to forgive, how to heal, how to live each day and not dwell on the past."

"As I already knew, he's very lucky to have you as a mother."

"No," Catherine denied, "I'm lucky to have him." She took a deep breath, "An, you know about Lawson, don't you, that they're planning to release him?"

An nodded, "Apparently, threatening to blow myself up hurt our chances of me being a credible witness against him."

Catherine sighed, "Yes, but I think I know you a little better than that. You're a smart woman, An. You had contingencies in place. You've evaded capture for a while. You even tied up Lawson and sent him into HQ for us. You must have something on him, some sort of hard evidence that could end all of this and put him away for good?" she watched as An sat there quietly. "Tell me where it is?"

"I have all the video and audio recordings you could possibly want," An confirmed, "I have paper documents. I have things he signed. I know the banks he uses and the aliases he has accounts under. I have more than enough to put Lawson away for the rest of his life. And the information I have could more than likely uncover the link to his slave trade in Shanghai and other dealings in Brazil."

Her sudden aura of confidence worried Catherine, knowing how Lawson had managed to sway An over to his side at one point, "Why do I get the feeling you're not just going to hand this information over to me?" she guessed.

"I want something in return," An nodded, "Same thing I wanted before. I still want you to find my parents."

"Lawson twists everything I try to ask him," Catherine protested.

"You don't need to talk to him again," she insisted. "I think I might know where they've been taken. Lawson spoke often about a home in Brazil. I traveled there with him a few times, but always blindfolded along the route to his house."

Catherine nodded, "I know about the house in the soybean field. We have people searching down there."

"You mean the CIA, agent Jared Vichy and his team? They won't find it. They're working against you, for Lawson," An said.

Not sure how she knew about Vichy, Catherine treaded lightly, "What do you want?"

"I want you to take me to Brazil," she stated, "If we get anywhere close to his hideout I can find them, I know I can. You have to trust me, Catherine," An begged, "When we find them, and I know they're safe, I'll give you all the information I mentioned. I'll return here with you and do my time in prison for Billy's death. I swear to you."

"An, I can't just take you to Brazil," Catherine sighed, "That would be impossible. There's no way."

"Five-0 has immunity and means," An countered, "You'll find a way. If you really want to put Lawson away for good, you'll find a way. I've already dishonored my parents, but maybe I can still somehow honor the woman who gave birth to me by doing something worthy, by rescuing my parents. I promise you I am not trying to trick you, Catherine. I just want to do some good before it's all over, before it's too late."

With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Catherine hung up the phone and walked away.

000

"You can't be serious," Steve stood in the middle of HQ, the veins in his neck about to burst, "Jeez, Cath, she's manipulating you."

"I'm not so sure," she bit her lip, taking a deep breath. "Yes, I agreed that right now she's desperately trying to do whatever she can to get her parents home safely. But I don't think she wants to hurt us," Catherine argued, "At least not this time," she added, seeing he wasn't willing to budge, "Look, I know what you're feeling right now. When she first suggested it I thought she was crazy. I was against it. But now I figure, what have we got to lose?"

Steve shrugged, "I don't know, how about your life if you put it in her hands? Cath, you can't save everyone. And you sure as heck don't owe An anything."

Catherine sighed, "I'm not trying to save everyone, just her parents right now. Maybe by doing that I save countless babies from being stolen and sold," she shrugged, "Maybe hundreds or even thousands of women from being used as slaves. An saved me, Steve. Maybe you don't see it that way because she helped keep me on that ship. But she saved me from sex with Wo Fat, and that's worth a lifetime of get out of jail free cards in my book."

He couldn't argue that point in An's favor. "We do it some other way. If she really has all this information then we interrogate her, get her to give it up."

"As long as her parents are still missing, she won't give anything up," Catherine was certain.

"Then we lie to her, tell her we've found them," Steve suggested.

She stood there staring at him, hands on her hips. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."

"Catherine…" he sighed.

"Lawson and Wo Fat have screwed with her head enough already, don't you think?" Catherine asked.

Steve realized how much he never wanted to find himself on the opposite side of a major battle with her. Her loyalty, duty, honor were all things he loved about her, all things that reminded him once again how very much alike they were. "I understand your desire to defend her, Cath. You feel like they hurt her the same way they hurt you. But what if she's been stringing you along this whole time in order to lead up to this?" he wondered. "She sent you in to deal with Lawson and now suddenly she thinks she knows where we can find her parents. That's fishy, Catherine."

"And if we sit back and do nothing, Lawson goes free," her shoulder's shrugged.

Steve heard in her tone that she had her doubts as well, but it was a case of the lesser of two evils at the moment. He sighed in resignation, "By the time we get to Brazil we'll be down to less than six days before Lawson's release. I suggest we book a flight as soon as possible."

"A flight for An and I," Catherine agreed.

His head shook, "No, for the three of us."

"Steve, you and I can't go together," she countered, "Evan needs at least one parent to stay here, in case…"

"No," he interrupted. "Our son needs both of his parents. I lost you last year and I'm not sitting at home this time for a repeat performance. We go together, we come home together. That's the only way I agree to you being a part of this crazy op."

Catherine couldn't stop the smile that formed, "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

"Not this time, little lady," he concluded.

000

Steve carried their duffels to the truck and tossed them in the backseat.

He watched Catherine standing under the trellis, Evan propped against her right side. The boy had his head against her shoulder, eyes wide open as he stared at her, his little left hand pressed against her neck as she whispered softly in his ear. Steve couldn't hear what she was saying to the baby, but he could see the determination in her eyes. And he swore Evan seemed to be intently listening to everything she was saying.

His mom and Mary walked across the front lawn to join them.

Catherine ran a hand along her son's soft hair. She noticed how clingy he was being, mirroring her own mood. Neither one of them seeming to want to let go, "It's not too late to back out now," Steve assured her, "I'll go with An, you can stay with the little guy. I won't think any less of you. You've got nothing to prove, Cath."

"I'm going," she whispered.

"Mom," Steve looked Doris in the eye. With the wedding and everything, they hadn't spoken much about what had happened the other day on the roof, the way she'd walked right up to An with Evan in her arms. It still upset him, but he was tired of scolding his own mother. Instead he planned to trust her, "I don't think I can stress to you enough just how important your assignment is."

"Operation: Take Care of Grandson," Doris nodded, "Understood," she affirmed before turning to Catherine. She walked the younger woman a few feet away from where her son and daughter remained, "I know I could never talk my foolish son out of something like this, but," Doris eyed her grandson, "I left my children, Catherine. It was the hardest thing I ever did. And even though I thought I was doing the right thing, I still regret it to this day."

Catherine patted Evan's back reassuringly, easily understanding what the woman was saying, "I can't let Steve go on his own, Doris. My parents couldn't make things work in their marriage because love wasn't enough to keep them together. Well, this is the part where Steve and I support each other more than just love one another. I have to go. It's my crazy idea, and… I need to be there for him," she insisted.

Doris nodded, "Then can I at least be a mom and say, take care of yourselves and get back here as soon as possible?"

"Yeah, you can say that," Catherine hugged her mother-in-law without squishing the baby.

A white delivery truck pulled up next to Steve's Silverado. The driver jumped out while another man went around to the back of the truck. "Have a delivery here for a Steve McGarrett," the driver said, glancing down at the electronic pad in his right hand.

"That's me," Steve reached out to sign the pad, "But I don't remember ordering…" he trailed off, realization sinking in.

The delivery driver smiled, "Looks like baby furniture, crib and changing table," he pointed toward Evan, "Must be for that little guy. Got a six month old daughter myself," the man said before joining his partner at the back of the truck. They slid a long rectangular box out of the back. "Where do you want it?"

"Upstairs," Steve said as he noticed the sad look in Catherine's eyes.

"I'll take care of it," Doris stepped in. She kissed her son's cheek, "Be careful," was all she said before directing the delivery men toward the house.

Steve stood beside Catherine, his right hand pressed atop her left, both of them resting softly against Evan's back, "Hey, champ. We'll see you real soon, okay?" he spoke in a calm manner to the baby, "When we get home we'll set up your new crib, what do you think about that? You'll have your own room to sleep and play in; make as big a mess in as you want."

Catherine spoke to Mary, "I noticed a bit of diaper rash on his right side this morning. There's ointment on my nightstand, you should apply it every time you change him, and check him frequently. He likes the green and blue quilt when he sleeps, and the teddy bear Chin gave him always makes him smile, but don't put it in the crib when he sleeps. And make sure he has tummy time every day," she took a quick breath, "I bought some rice formula and he drank a few ounces yesterday and seemed okay with it, so use that in case you run out of breast milk, but use the breast milk first. Trooper should be walked at least once a day, though she'd love if you take her more than once. And if you play fetch with her you'll be a friend for life."

"Cath," Steve finally stopped her, "What was it your dad said the other day about the quicker you say goodbye?"

She nodded, realizing she was stalling, which wasn't going to make leaving any easier. Catherine kissed the boy's cheek, "I love you, nugget," she whispered while passing him off to Mary. He fussed a bit, twisting around in Mary's arms to face his mommy.

Taking Catherine's hand, Steve guided her to the truck.

Mary did her best to keep the baby calm as she waved to them.

They were almost inside the truck when Evan began to cry full out. But she didn't hesitate to close the passenger door, even while listening to her son cry. Catherine settled in, closed her eyes and took a deep breath as he started the truck. "You okay?" Steve asked.

"Not even close, but let's go," she said, looking out through the windshield as he backed away from the house.

000

She glanced out the small oval window on the jet's right side, watching as they cut through a dense cloud layer, "How about now?"

"What was that," Steve leaned forward, seated one row back and to her left.

"Is it too late to turn back now?" Catherine asked, extending her left arm behind her seat.

He smiled, taking her hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

They were also separated by a narrow aisle, the small private jet having just a single row of seats on either side; four on the left and three on the right. An was seated two seats in front of Steve due to weight distribution restrictions on the small aircraft. "Let me check," he made a show of thinking it over, "We somehow convinced Denning to release An into our temporary custody. Then we borrowed thousands of dollars from Mick to hire this private jet to fly us from Rio de Janeiro into Mato Grosso's main soybean producing territory."

"Are you saying no?" Catherine actually smiled a little, turning to face him, "Just say no."

"Yes," he disappointed her, "It's too late to turn back."

"You realize you're my husband now," she reminded him, "It's your job to agree with me."

His head shook, "Like that's ever going to happen."

The jet dipped significantly and abruptly jolted to the left.

"Steve?" Catherine glanced ahead to where An was seated. The woman was still strapped in tight, hands cuffed to the sturdy armrests. "That didn't just feel like turbulence," she glanced out the window again, still seeing nothing but clouds.

"I know," he agreed, letting go of her hand, "Pretty sure we just lost a lot of altitude, fast." Steve unclipped his seatbelt and stood, bracing himself against the seatbacks and hunching a little due to the low overhead clearance, "I'll go talk to the pilot, see what's…" Steve's body was flung forward by another unexpected dip. He managed to regain his balance and gave up on explanations as he moved quickly toward the front of the aircraft.

Catherine had never been afraid to fly in her life, but all the way to Brazil she'd been haunted by the faces of Lenore Silva and her family. As well as all of the other passengers on flight U8517 that she'd shown Lawson a few days ago. "Catherine?" She looked up, hearing Steve's voice through the overhead speakers, "I need you up here."

She unbuckled and carefully made her way to the cockpit, "What's wrong?" she instantly noticed the pilot was slumped over and Steve was in the second chair. They just had the one pilot, their short flight not requiring two. Catherine reached a hand out to the pilot's neck.

"I already checked for a pulse, he's dead," Steve replied.

"How is he…" Catherine let out a shaky breath, "Our pilot dies en route to tracking down Lawson's hideout. Why is this not sounding like a coincidence?"

"Because those take a lot of planning," he confirmed.

"You don't really think An planned this," she wasn't convinced.

"I know this plane and its pilot have been compromised," Steve said as he tried to assess the situation, "I'd say our pilot was most likely poisoned since I didn't see any blood or other indications of physical wounds. And if he was drugged it had to have been pretty covert," he looked to Catherine, "You told me An created some drug patch which you used against Wo Fat. My money is on her or Lawson being behind all this. Or maybe she's still working with him."

"An's been in jail the past few days, how would she get her hands on any drug patches?" Catherine wasn't convinced.

"People in jail can get their hands on a lot of things they shouldn't be able to," he countered.

She mashed her lips together, "Is this going to be one of those nights where we go to bed fighting?"

"We might be going to sleep permanently in just a few minutes," Steve announced as the plane shuddered.

"What're we up against?" Catherine asked.

He grasped the control yoke, exerting a lot of manpower to get any response out of it. "Electrical systems keep fluctuating. I can't see through these clouds, and I can't get a proper altimeter reading or heading. We're not going down very fast at the moment, but we are going down," he let her know. "I need your help, starting by getting the pilot out of that seat."

Catherine eyed the man and noticed he had a good hundred or more pounds on her. "I'm on it," she confirmed, headed back into the main compartment. She fished a key out of her pocket and unfastened the cuffs around An's hands. "What do you know about this?" Catherine asked her.

"About what?" An got to her feet as Catherine tugged on her arm.

"About this plane being about to crash," Catherine spat, pushing the woman down the aisle and into the cockpit.

"We're crashing?" An shook her head, glancing over at Steve for a moment, "I swear, I don't know what's going on," she directed her words to Catherine.

"Grab his legs," Catherine instructed, waving a hand toward the pilot. She slid her arms around the hefty man's torso and did her best to lift with her knees. Catherine walked backward, An keeping hold of his ankles as they moved him into the main cabin and laid him down in the aisle. Catherine climbed over the seats to get around him, "Sit down," she ordered An back into the front seat. Catherine cuffed one of her wrists to the armrest, squatting to the look the woman in the eye, "I really hope you're not lying."

She rushed to the overhead bin and pulled her duffle bag down. Catherine retrieved her laptop and strode back into the cockpit.

"Just so we're clear, I'm not dying today," Catherine said to Steve as she slid into the seat that had just been vacated by their dead pilot.

"Is that so?" he couldn't help smile at her confidence.

"There's a baby boy on Oahu who misses us, and we're going to make it back home to him," she vowed, powering up her system and opening a specific program, "Alright," Catherine entered the new code she'd created, "Whatever's messing with the plane's electrical systems isn't affecting mine. I've got Harry zeroing in on our location as I speak."

"Cath, who the heck is Harry?" Steve questioned.

"Harry is what I nicknamed my satellite," she answered, typing in a set of commands, "It's short for Harrington. I didn't want to call it Billy because I figured you might get jealous of me spending so much time with it," Catherine explained in a serious tone, "Here, I've got our location. It looks like we're not too far off course, just slightly north of Mato Grosso."

"You mean over Amazonas?" he suspected.

"Roger that," she nodded.

"Can you find me somewhere to land?"

"Sure, just pick a tree," Catherine retorted, "Steve, we're about five hundred kilometers from Mato Grosso's northern border. The only thing out here is a densely canopied rainforest. I can't just conjure up a runway. How much fuel do we have left?"

"About enough to get us another hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty, kilometers," he relayed, "After that we'll be drifting on fumes."

"How confident would you feel about a water landing?" she proposed.

His head shook, "Not very."

"Well, the Madeira River or rainforest are the only two choices we've…" Catherine didn't get a chance to finish her thought as the plane lurched and shuddered again.

"I think my fuel gauge is wrong," Steve did his best to hold the jet steady, "Strap in and guide me," he instructed.

Catherine fastened her seatbelt and returned attention to her laptop, "Guide you where?"

He shrugged, "I don't really care at this point, just use your best judgment. I trust you," Steve gripped the yoke tighter, using all of his muscle strength to control the aircraft. He monitored the attitude indicator closely, keeping the wings level and trying hard to maintain the craft's nose above the horizon as they continued to lose altitude.

"If you can turn us about thirty degrees south-east…" Catherine glanced down at her screen, "Looks like a small clearing, maybe fifty meters by fifty. It's the best I've got."

"I'll take it," Steve strained to turn the craft even that little bit.

They finally broke through the cloud cover and could see the trees coming up fast beneath them.

"Cath, you know I…"

"I know," she closed her laptop and held it against her chest as she braced for impact, "I have the ring to prove it," Catherine grinned, "Just get us down."

Steve nodded, "Roger that, Lieutenant."

---

To be continued…