"And what are you going to do with your day off, Mrs. McGarrett?" Steve teased, kissing Jax goodbye on the front porch.
"I'm going to get groceries," Jax said. "With a list. Like a . . . housewife."
She looked lost and confused, standing on the porch in his hoodie, her hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on her belly.
"Okay, so tell me again what you did yesterday," he prompted. "Your most interesting case."
"I helped Dr. Marks with a tracheotomy on a patient who came in with blunt force trauma to throat," she said. "Airway was completely compromised, their SATs were falling fast . . . they have trays, sealed, sterilized trays, with all the equipment laid out, it's amazing -"
"Yeah," he murmured, "so, yesterday you were a badass medic. You're not going to get the same rush from buying groceries, I get it. But there's always tomorrow. And today, the babies need a break from all that adrenaline."
"That's probably true," she said. "They were pretty jacked up last night. I think there was some actual kicking. What are you doing today?"
"Caviness is briefing us on the latest with Malia's situation," Steve said. "In an official capacity."
"That doesn't sound good," Jax said quietly. "An official briefing, from the US Marshal Service?"
"You wanna join us?" Steve asked. "Two o'clock."
"Yeah," Jax said. "Yeah, thanks, I'll be there."
"Okay," Steve said, kissing the top of her head again. "Now, go do some kickass grocery shopping."
#*#*#*#*#
"Hey, it's one of Hawaii's finest," Kamekona said, beaming at Jax as she stood at the window of his food truck. "How are you enjoying life as a civilian?"
"It's fine, I guess," Jax sighed. "I wish the hospital would let me work every day, but they won't. I've already done laundry and groceries this morning. I'm going in to see the guys at two, but . . . "
"In the meantime you are at loose ends," Kamekona nodded. "But, you have plenty of time for an early lunch. Lemon pepper?"
Jax wrinkled her nose in thought. "I think tofu. I'm not feeling shrimp today."
"Coming right up," Kamekona said. "Hey, you should check out the new baby shop. Just over there, on the corner. Maybe you see something for McGarrett's little baby seals."
"So now I'm resorting to retail therapy?" Jax wailed. "Kame, I don't even know how to shop for normal stuff, much less baby stuff."
"That's why you shop downtown, shop locals," Kamekona said, nodding.
"They'll think I'm a tourist," Jax groused.
"You come here for lunch every day off, I'll give you lessons in pidgin," Kamekona promised. "Here you go, extra tofu on the house - some for you, some for the babies."
#*#*#*#*#
They gathered around the main conference room table. Jax noticed that Caviness was wearing a tie. It felt serious, if Caviness was wearing a tie.
"Shit," she whispered under her breath, and reached out under the table and grabbed Kono's hand.
Malia sat next to Chin, looking tired but serene. She glanced over at Jax and Kono and smiled.
"As you know, we've been combing over current surveillance, as well as pulling bank records, phone records, travel records - everything, going back a calendar year," Caviness said. "So far, we've not found anything that indicates that the organized crime family Malia testified against in San Francisco overlaps or connects to The Company here in Honolulu. So far, there's no evidence. Obviously, the concern is that this is a brand new development, and that contact is yet to be made, but forthcoming. There's one - and thankfully, only one - development that still gives us pause."
He stopped and took a sip of water, and pulled a photo out of a file.
"I've been in constant contact with the San Francisco office," he continued. "They've been monitoring David Pellosi. Alanna's husband. There was a lot of activity in a short period of time - they're still analyzing his movements - and then he got in his private jet and . . . well -"
"They've lost track of him," Grover guessed, shaking his head.
"That's the current situation," Caviness said.
"So he could be coming to the island," Steve said. He leaned forward in his chair, and Danny couldn't help the smile that tugged at his mouth. Typical Steve - ready to go strap on a rifle and simply find Pellosi and deal with him.
"He could be going anywhere," Caviness said. "He travels constantly. His flight plan said New York, but his plane didn't land there. These small jets, they're . . . "
"Easy to lose track of," Grover said again. "Lot of that going around."
"You're suggesting he has help," Caviness said. "At the highest levels."
"My experience, in Chicago . . . these people always have help," Grover said.
"It's possible," Caviness admitted. "So the Marshal service has given us options. One, of course, was an immediate relocation to Arlington, Virginia, to the international headquarters of the service. The idea was that Malia could be relocated under a new identity into one of the military hospitals there. The marshals have a few key personnel embedded into those facilities, and it's one of the most secure options we can offer a witness."
Danny glanced anxiously at Chin and Malia.
"I turned it down," Malia said. "And I wasn't the only one who turned down Arlington."
Caviness ducked his head. "I was offered a position in Arlington," he said, shrugging. "I wasn't interested, either."
Jax kicked Kono discreetly under the table, and Danny looked back and forth between Kono and Caviness, grinning.
"Lot of staying put going around, too," Grover said, with a nod.
"Well, Malia has the right to decline a WITSEC relocation," Caviness said, "but in doing so runs the risk of being officially dismissed from the program. Which we don't want, not yet. The program still has a lot to offer, and worst case scenario . . . relocation may need to be an option in the future. So, since Five-O was already approved as a protection detail, we made a case for something of a protective custody situation. It's not ideal, but it was approved. It keeps Malia in the program, and more importantly - it keeps her safe. Provided that Five-O agrees to take on the responsibility."
"Absolutely," Steve said, without hesitation. "Tell us how it works."
"Much like it's already been working," Caviness said. "But now it will involve moving Malia to a safe house. We have two locations in play, and I took the liberty of having your house approved, Steve. Hope you and Jax don't mind."
"Of course not," Steve said quickly. "Anything."
Caviness nodded. "If for any reason the marshal service security is breached, all of our locations are at risk. I wanted to have a back-up location, and you have the, ah, interesting set-up under the stairs."
"One condition," Steve said, looking at Jax. "If we get to that play, you're with Malia."
"Understood," Jax said quietly.
"Malia, were you able to get the leave of absence from work?" Caviness asked. "I'm so sorry. It's the only way I could get it approved. The hospital, even with one of us embedded, just leaves you too exposed at this point."
"It was approved," Malia said. "They were a bit surprised that I wanted to take time for research, until I explained that it was to begin a study of the benefits of emergency doctors following patient care through discharge. They accepted that without question. And now, of course, I need to write something impressive during this time."
"So, a member of Five-O and a member of my team will be with Malia at all times," Caviness said. "McGarrett, I'll let you handle your team assignment. My team will be on a simple eight hour shift rotation."
"Chin, you have point," Steve said right away. "No way I'd let anyone separate me from Jax if there was a threat - I think we all relate to that."
Danny and Grover nodded. "Yeah, unless Renee got tired of my ugly mug, I'd be stuck to her like flypaper," Grover said.
"You need to switch out for any reason, or you need back up, you tag one of us," Steve said. "And then - and only then - do you give us your location."
"That's a good protocol," Caviness said. "We hope this will be a very temporary situation. The San Francisco office is doing everything they can to nail down David Pellosi's location and intentions. Our focus is shifting to protection at this point. Any questions?"
#*#*#*#*#
"Our limited surveillance indicates that she will be working the usual daytime shift tomorrow," the young man at the computer said. "There has been one evening shift, though. It's impossible to predict with accuracy. I could not breach any of the Tripler systems; only the simple CCTV camera in the parking lot."
WoFat nodded thoughtfully. "It's enough. If we see what we need to see in the morning, we act in the evening. Ensure that everything is in place."
#*#*#*#*#
Jax was curled comfortably on the sofa, her feet in Steve's lap, when she remembered the box in the back of the Supra. She stretched and started to get up.
"Need to hit the head again?" Steve asked sympathetically, still absently rubbing her feet.
"No, I need to get something out of my car," she said. "Totally forgot, after the briefing about Malia. Be right back."
Steve watched curiously as she grabbed her keys and made a quick dash to the car, returning with a bag. She reset the alarm and locked the door, and then curled back up on the sofa next to him.
"Kamekona actually suggested this shop," she said, shaking her head. "I stopped in . . . I know Kono says that people will flood us with stuff - which is really sweet, I can't believe - but anyway, I just - I saw these, and the lady said that babies actually need something to focus on, it develops their brain - Rachel said she was right, so . . . "
She reached in and pulled out two flat boxes and handed them to Steve. He opened one, face scrunched in concentration.
"Okay, I give - what the heck is it?" he asked.
Jax laughed. "It doesn't make sense flat. You have to hold it up, like -" She lifted a mobile carefully from the box, and suddenly a tangle of colorful ribbon became a circle of bright fabric race cars, dangling from what looked like a sleek chrome steering wheel.
"It's fast cars," Steve said, laughing. "No wonder it caught your eye."
"So, you attach this to the crib like this -" Jax demonstrated, "and when the babies are awake, but in their crib, it gives them something to watch. And it's supposed to be good for their eyes, or something."
"It's great," Steve said. "Let's go put it up." He folded it carefully back into the box and then reached for Jax's hand.
When they got to the babies' room, Steve paused before switching on the light. "Check this out," he murmured, pointed at the light switch. It had been replaced with a dimmer. He slid the new switch up, just a bit, and the room was awash in the soft low light.
"When did you do that?" Jax asked. "That's perfect."
"Early this morning," he said. "It makes sense, right? I mean, middle of the night, we don't want to spotlight the kids. Okay, let's put these little cars up."
Jax waited until he had attached the mobile to one of the cribs before pulling out the second box.
"Not just cars," she said. She opened the box and pulled out the second mobile, and a circle of sailboats dangled from a small ship's wheel. "This one made me think of you." She attached it to the other crib, giving it a little push with her finger and smiling as the sailboats chased each other around in a circle.
"I love it," Steve said. He wrapped his arms around her, splaying one hand warm and steady against her belly.
"We can almost start counting the weeks backwards, now, until they're here," Jax said. She chewed on her bottom lip until Steve tugged it free with the pad of his thumb.
"Hey, we've got this," he said. "We'll get some diapers and some formula and we'll . . ."
"Yeah?" Jax prompted.
"Improvise, adapt, and overcome," he said.
She turned and stared at him. "Oh dear Lord - you're quoting the Marines. That's terrifying."
"Hey, sometimes they get it right," he said, shrugging and grinning at her.
#*#*#*#*#
"The office is quiet," Danny said, sitting across from Steve's desk. "Chin is so quiet . . . you wouldn't think it would make a difference. Any word?"
"Caviness said everything looks good at the safe house," Steve said. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "Malia is going to keep busy working on that research that she used as a reason to ask for a leave."
Danny smiled. "That's very typical of Malia," he said. "That's integrity for you."
"Yeah," Steve said. "You ever notice how people who are determined to do the right thing so often get screwed over?"
"It does seem to happen that way," Danny sighed.
Steve's phone buzzed and he picked it up, smiling.
"Tell Jax I said hello," Danny said.
Steve looked up at him. "How'd you -"
"You, ya goof," Danny chuckled. "You get this . . . this whole different face when she walks in the room, or calls, or texts."
"I guess I do," Steve said. His fingers moved over the screen of his phone. He paused and then chuckled again. "Jax says hello back."
"Yeah, what else?" Danny asked.
"Classified," Steve said smugly.
"You two are . . . something else," Danny said.
"Does it change? After you have kids?" Steve asked quietly, fidgeting with his phone. "I mean . . . not how you really feel about each other, I know that's never going to change, not for us, but . . . other stuff."
Danny laughed. "Well, while Rachel was in labor - both times - she informed me that I was never touching her again. And those first weeks . . . you're so exhausted, yeah, you wonder if you'll survive, much less get back to the way things were. But you do. And wow . . . watching Rachel with the baby, it was magical. Maybe we're hardwired that way, to ensure survival of the species, or whatever, but - wow. So yeah, it changes things but . . . for us, anyway, it just got even better."
Steve nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Danny."
"Hey, babe, it's quiet. Go home. Enjoy the calm before the storm," Danny said.
"You know, I'm gonna take you up on that, Danny," Steve said. "I'll put something on the grill, maybe put some candles on the lanai . . . "
"There ya go," Danny said, nodding his approval. "And you can just, you know - stop right there. I don't need to know any more."
#*#*#*#*#
Jax rubbed her lower back absently as she signed out at the security desk.
"You need shorter shifts?" Gus asked, waiting to sign out after Jax.
"Nah," Jax said. "This is nothing a long swim and a good night's sleep won't fix. I'll see you day after tomorrow."
"Take it easy," Gus said. "Just because I can deliver babies doesn't mean I want any practice, you got it?"
Jax laughed and grabbed her backpack. "Got it."
#*#*#*#*#
Steve sipped a Longboard as he puttered around in the kitchen. He pulled vegetables and pineapple out of the refrigerator, cutting them and threading the pieces onto skewers. A stack of papers from the last ob visit was clipped neatly to the refrigerator, and he searched through it.
The bloodwork had confirmed his own suspicion that Jax was mildly anemic - a glare from the nurse had convinced him that it was no time to congratulate himself on an accurate armchair diagnosis. A separate printout listed food especially high in iron.
"Spinach," he said decisively. Pupule paused on his trek toward the laundry room and regarded him curiously. "Spinach, for Jax," Steve explained to the cat. "She needs iron, and she's not loving meat right now. I'll make a spinach salad."
Pupule continued toward the laundry room, unimpressed.
#*#*#*#*#
Jax rolled the windows of the Supra down and enjoyed the breeze and the purr of the engine. She rounded a curve midway toward home, and had to slam on her brakes to avoid colliding with a blue sedan, stopped halfway off the road.
"Idiot -" Jax started to mutter, but stopped as she spotted a tendril of smoke coming from the hood of the car. She pulled the Supra completely off the road and turned on her hazard lights.
The guard rail was dented and smeared with blue paint. Jax quickly calculated angles and wrinkled her nose in confusion - the position of the car didn't match the apparent points of impact. She grabbed her kit out of the back of her car and approached the sedan carefully.
The back door was open, revealing an empty car seat.
"Shit," Jax said. She began to search around, frantic, horrified at the possibility that a child had been thrown from the vehicle. Her hand went automatically for her phone, but it wasn't in her pocket, and she didn't dare take time to go back to her car for it. The driver's seat was empty, as well.
This is seriously messed up, Jax thought. She heard a rustle from the side of the road, and turned to investigate.
#*#*#*#*#
Steve tried Jax's phone again. It rang several times and then went to voice mail.
"Hey, ku'uipo, I guess you're driving home," he said. "Or maybe you got caught late at work. I'll . . . I'll see you soon. Don't be mad, I'm going to call the hospital to check. Okay."
Pupule rubbed a huge paw over his face.
"I'm just going to call the desk and see if she's still on duty," Steve said. "It's perfectly reasonable." He dialed another number and held the phone to his ear, waiting. The desk clerk picked up the call. "Yes, this is Commander McGarrett . . . I was expecting Jax home by now, thought maybe she stayed late at work? No? Oh. You're sure, an hour - okay, yes. Yes, thank you so much."
Pupule rubbed against Steve's ankles and meowed pitifully.
"Yeah," Steve said. He grabbed his keys and phone and headed toward the Silverado. He had Danny on the line before he was out of the driveway.
#*#*#*#*#
Jax felt the mask pressed over her face.
"Don't struggle," the voice said. A familiar voice. Cultured, slightly accented. She gasped at the realization, inhaling a lung full of nitrous oxide.
"It's nitrous oxide, it's safe for you and the . . . child," WoFat said. He held the mask firmly to her face, anticipating her movements, his other arm firmly around her shoulders. "I have no interest in hurting you. Just relax, and cooperate, and everything will be just fine."
Jax felt her muscles relax. She knew this was it, this was worst case scenario. As the gas flooded her system, she couldn't remember why it mattered.