Steve's long stride carried him from the truck to the front porch. The house was quiet when he entered, but Jax's Supra was out front, so he called out her name softly. Mary appeared, coming out of the babies' room and holding her finger to her lips.

"Hey," Steve whispered. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, she looked axed, brah, I convinced her to go take a nap," Mary said. "We got baby stuff, come see."

Steve followed her down the hall, grinning.

"What?" she demanded, looking up at him.

"You, talking like you never left," he said. "Lemme guess, lunch at Kamekona's truck?"

Mary grinned self-consciously. "It comes back to you, like riding a bike, I guess."

"Hey," Steve said, tugging her hair gently. "I'm glad. God, I missed you, Mare."

"Okay, you big lug," Mary said, "don't make me cry and get all snotty and blotchy. Look, we got little tiny board shorts." She reached into the closet and pulled out two impossibly small sets of board shorts and rash guards, one in bright blue and one in a soft green.

Steve held them reverently in his hands. "How do they even - who makes these?"

Mary laughed softly. "Leprechauns, maybe, I don't know. Aren't they stinking cute? They had other things, you know, like little bikini type things, for girls but - Jax said why did girls get salt rash and an early start on skin cancer while boys were nicely protected, and really, I couldn't argue with that logic."

"Because it's good logic," Jax said, her voice warm and sleep roughened, as she padded silently into the room.

"Shit - bells!" Mary exclaimed. "I'm putting freaking bells on the both of you."

"Hey," Steve said, reaching out an arm for Jax. She tucked herself into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist. "These are perfect," he said. "You feeling okay?"

"I was tired," Jax said, yawning. "I got some rest."

"You didn't sleep," he said quietly.

"I rested," Jax repeated, a warning edge to her voice.

He dropped the subject, partly because that edge to her voice never boded well for him, and partly because she would probably sleep better at night if she didn't sleep during the day, and, well, mostly because he didn't want to ruin the moment. The three of them, looking at baby clothes, Jax safe and warm and solid in his arms.

Then he remembered they were having company for dinner, and sighed.

"What is it?" Jax asked, looking up at him. "How'd it go today?"

"We don't know anything new," he said. "But . . . we need to talk about Joe. Off the record. Off the base. I thought Nick and Catherine should come here tonight, if that's okay. I picked up steaks."

Jax nodded. "Of course. Let me guess, Nick wants potatoes?"

"He did mention those," Steve said, grinning. "If you're up to it."

"Easy," Jax said.

"I'll put together a salad," Mary offered. "And help with dishes and stuff. Wait, unless - should I leave? This is probably classified Navy shit, right?"

"You stay," Steve said firmly. He reached out his other arm and pulled her close, too. "We're family."

"Joe was family," Mary said quietly. "Mom and Joe . . . they lied to us."

Steve kissed the top of her head. He couldn't argue the fact. "Mary, Joe is in huge trouble with the Navy. His career is over. He'll be lucky to avoid time in the brig. He gave it up, all of it, to save Jax. We owe him loyalty, if not trust. Can you understand that?"

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I understand. Okay, let go, McClingy, I'm going to go start the salad."

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asked Jax, quietly. He felt her nodding again, her cheek snuggled against his chest. She felt warm and relaxed in his arms. "You had a good day with Mare?"

"I did," she said. "It was . . . it was really good, to do something normal. Or, what I think normal is supposed to be like. It feels weird, walking around Honolulu without a badge and a gun."

He looked down at her, skeptical.

"A badge and a gun that everyone can see," she amended, smiling. "I carry the Taurus. That's okay, right?"

"Of course," he said. "You have a concealed carry, and technically, Jax, you're still part of Five-O. That's never going to change. You're still listed as a consultant."

"I am?" she asked, beaming up at him.

"You - I thought you knew, I thought we discussed this," he said. "You reviewed surveillance for Malia's case."

"No, you control freak - apparently, I was pressed into service, just like Danny," she said, exasperated.

"I told you to keep the badge," Steve argued.

"I thought that was . . . metaphorical," Jax said, starting to gesture wildly.

Steve stared down at her, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"What?" she said, suspicious.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed. His hand hovered over her stomach and he glanced at her, always just the slightest bit hesitant. She rolled her eyes but nodded, smiling, and he rested his palm on the curve.

"Thirty one weeks," she said. "They're getting feisty."

He nodded, smiling in delight as a distinct flutter moved under his hand.

"You don't think they - what if they thought we were fighting, just now?" Jax whispered.

"Nah," he said. "You have a temper and I'm stubborn. They're probably already used to that. Plus, they hear their Uncle Danny, and you sound just like him."

"I should go cook the potatoes," Jax said. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm looking forward to a little more time doing routine things, you know? I think . . . probably, enough with the excitement."

"Until the babies get here," Steve said, grinning.

#*#*#*#*#

"Catherine, I swear, I can hear your teeth grinding," Nick said, glancing at her in alarm.

"I can't believe he knew," she mumbled, covering her face with her hands. "How the hell did he know?"

Nick shrugged. "We've been on dozens of missions together, Cath. You just - you pick things up when you live in each others pockets like that."

That made her feel some better. It was Nick, then, who gave them away.

"He said he knew your tells, too," Nick added, not remotely helpful.

"Oh God," Catherine groaned again.

"Yeah, I'm thinking that might be one of the tells," Nick said smugly. "You said that a lot, the other night, when -" his breath was knocked out of him in a whoosh. "Hey. For such a tiny person you have a deceptively strong hand," he complained.

"Shut up," Catherine said. "I hate you."

"Nah, you don't," Nick said confidently.

She sighed. "Maybe just a little."

They pulled into the driveway behind Steve's Silverado. Nick reached over and wrapped his hand around hers.

"We're here about Joe, Catherine," he said. "Steve knows, he's cool with it, it's all good. You don't need to feel self-conscious."

She shifted in her seat to face him. "I crossed a lot of lines, Nick. Steve probably hasn't told you everything. I'll need to, if this thing . . . if this thing between us is going to go anywhere, I - I did things I'm not proud of, I violated Jax's privacy and used that information to . . . I don't know where my head was."

"He told me you would do this," Nick said quietly. "He also told me not to let you. It's in the past, Catherine, let it go. Everyone else is."

She looked at him, her eyes dark and troubled.

"Try to let it go," he said, smiling at her. "Can you do that much? Try?"

"I can do that," she said finally. "Okay, let's get this over with."

He held her hand as they walked up to the door, and she refused to admit that she clung to him like a small child.

Steve answered the door, ushering them inside with a grin. He was wearing an apron and holding a set of tongs.

"Very nice," Nick said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Did Jax finally teach you some kitchen protocol?"

"The apron? Nah, that was Danny," Steve said. "Kept bitching about me cooking in clothes that were covered in trace. Come on out to the lanai, I'll throw the steaks on."

Mary was on the lanai, setting the table.

"Mary, I think you've met Nick," Steve said. "And you remember Catherine."

Mary shook hands with each of them, awkwardly. She had met Nick, once, not that he'd paid any attention to Steve's baby sister. And of course, she remembered Catherine. They'd bumped into each other in the kitchen, once, in the early morning hours of one of Catherine ports of call.

"Jax will be down in a minute," Mary blurted, for lack of anything else to say.

Catherine remembered the bottle of wine that she was clutching in the hand that hadn't been clinging to Nick, and wondered when she'd become so pathetic.

"I brought some wine," she said hesitantly, holding the bottle out to Mary.

"Thanks," Mary said. "Oh, this looks very nice. I'll grab glasses."

"Make yourselves comfortable," Steve instructed. "I forgot pepper, I'll be right back."

Steve ducked back into the kitchen, just in time to see Jax coming in, heading for the stove. He stopped, staring at her, his head tilted in appreciation. She was wearing a shirt he'd not seen before over the familiar denim shorts. It was simple, a racer back tank in a soft, flowing batik fabric, but the cut of it managed to emphasize both her soft curves and the lean strength of her shoulders and arms, the old injuries long healed thanks to their shared love of swimming.

"Holy shit," he murmured. "Can we send everyone home?"

She ducked her head self-consciously. "Mary picked it out, is it okay?"

"Hell yeah," he said. He traced the back of his fingers over her shoulder, gently.

"How long does it take to find pepper?" Mary demanded, pushing in through the kitchen door. She stopped, grinning, when she saw them. "Told you," she said, smiling at Jax. "Steve, don't leave me out there with - with GI Joe and GI Jane." She flounced back out the door.

Steve grabbed the pepper. "Guess we better talk about Joe and feed everyone . . . so we can send them home.

Jax shook her head as she grabbed the potatoes. "Hopeless. You are hopeless." But her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes sparkled, and something felt right and settled in Steve for the first time since he'd found her empty Supra on the side of the road.

"Hey, Jax," Nick said, tilting his Longboard at her in greeting.

"Catherine brought wine," Mary said, a bit reproachfully.

"I'm sorry," Catherine said. "I wasn't thinking -"

"I can have a few sips," Jax said. "Even if I couldn't, it's lovely. Thank you."

They filled their plates and spent a few minutes chatting over the food.

"I realize you guys are in an impossible situation," Steve said, nodding at Nick and Catherine. "How much heat is on you to bring Joe in?"

"Focus is still on WoFat," Nick said. "For the moment. At some point, the Navy is going to want to hold Joe accountable."

"Not to mention, he does have a lot of information regarding Shelburne," Catherine said. "Which means he could have insight into WoFat. Where he might go, how he might be tracked . . ."

Steve rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't understand why Joe didn't just come clean, come to me . . . I wonder if it might have -" he broke off.

"Don't," Nick said quietly. "You know as well as I do, second guessing won't accomplish anything. The current situation is this - WoFat is at the top of the Navy's - and every other agencies' - most wanted list. Shelburne is with him, we presume safe. Joe is wanted as a material witness regarding both of them. If you want access to Joe before the Navy . . . "

"You can't risk your careers for me," Steve said. "Not any more than you already have."

"You people are idiots," Mary blurted. "All of you."

They looked at her in surprise.

"Seriously. Navy this, access that . . . as if the entire universe is enlisted," Mary said. "As if playing by the rules and following orders has accomplished anything."

"Mary," Steve said, his voice low and warning.

"No, she's right," Jax said quietly. "What? The three of you get to call all the shots, because you're Navy? What about Five-O? What about immunity and means? What about ohana? Why isn't Danny here?"

Steve, Nick, and Catherine exchanged glances.

"Okay, you have a point," Steve said.

"Damn straight, I have a point," Jax said. "Joe wasn't in uniform when we came to get you back from Hesse. The Navy wasn't here when WoFat tried to grab Mary. The Navy couldn't find Shelburne, but Joe could - and he did, and if he hadn't, I wouldn't be here today. I'd be with WoFat."

"I get that, Jax, I do," Nick said. "But Joe is a Naval officer. He was under orders from the Navy to search both for Shelburne and for WoFat. He withheld key evidence that could have led to both. Had he come clean . . . there may have been no need to trade Shelburne for you. WoFat wouldn't have had a reason to go after Mary, or take you as leverage. Or order Steve tortured for information."

"Okay, so Commander Joe White was in defiance of his orders," Mary said. "But Uncle Joe . . . Uncle Joe tried to keep us from finding out that our mom was a CIA agent, and he saved Jax's life."

"He wasn't going to kill her," Catherine said.

Jax looked at her for a long moment. "No . . . no, he had other plans for me."

For the second time that evening, Catherine felt completely foolish. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean -"

"So, Danny's always complained that you get to act like a SEAL, and do crazy SEAL shit, even as leader of a civilian task force," Jax said. "He bitched about you so much those first six months I figured he had a crush on you or something. Anyway, it's because Five-O has immunity and means. You're Naval Reserves, you take orders from the Navy. But you're also Five-O, which means you get to make your own rules."

Steve rubbed a hand over his face, considering. "Yeah."

The corners of Nick's mouth twitched up. "It's a hell of a weird situation to be in," he said slowly. "Lines get blurred."

"Joe has worked closely with Five-O," Steve said. "And Five-O has worked closely with the Navy. This whole Shelburne, WoFat situation . . ."

Jax smiled. "Could be difficult to say which agency Joe was working for, at any given point."

"It won't absolve him of having withheld information from the Navy," Catherine warned. "There will be consequences, there's no way around that. When we find him, when the Navy catches up with him . . ."

"It might keep him out of the brig," Nick said.

Steve chuckled. "Joe won't be found unless he wants to be. But yeah . . . in the event that he wants to come in from the cold, maybe we can at least have a card up our sleeve."

"We have to look for him," Catherine argued. "If we don't, we're throwing away our careers."

"I didn't say not to look for him," Steve said mildly. "You can look for him all you want. First, there's no way the Navy wants him worse than it wants WoFat. The politics don't play - expend more resources on bringing in a decorated Navy SEAL, or on an internationally wanted arms dealer? No contest. You're not going to be allocated the resources to find Joe. Second, like I said - he won't be found unless he wants to be. Don't sweat it."

"But you can contact him," Nick said. "Theoretically. Rhetorically."

Steve shrugged. "I answer to the Navy, too. Wouldn't want to be accused of withholding information."

"Well, I'm not a soldier," Mary said stubbornly. "I'm not even freaking Five-O, which I still say is a stupid name. I can talk to whoever I damn well please."

Steve looked at her with fond amusement.

"Oh, don't look at me like some condescending big brother," Mary said. "Mom showed me the radio under the house."

Jax laughed at loud at the astonished expressions on everyone's face.

#*#*#*#*#

Steve stood next to Jax at the sink, washing up the dishes. He had been quiet for a while, turning something over, and Jax had been waiting patiently for him to work through whatever it was.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally.

"Hmm. What for?" Jax asked.

"Oh, shit, there's multiple options?" he asked, wincing.

She laughed. "Yeah, well, tell me whatcha got so far."

"I'm sorry for acting as if I thought Five-O didn't have a role to play in all of this," he said. "Officially or otherwise. It's . . . it's still new to me, doing things outside the Navy."

"But Five-O was formed specifically to bring in your father's murderers," Jax said. "Hesse. And people like Hesse - like Novak. Like WoFat. And you were given immunity and means."

"The Navy did pull rank, more than once," Steve reminded her. "And while WoFat had you . . . the only thing I was thinking about was getting you back. Chin and Kono were helping secure Malia. It was down to me, Danny, and Grover. But you're right - Danny should have been here tonight. Which brings me back to my apology. I'm sorry for trying to figure everything out from just the Navy angle, and forgetting that Five-O is my ohana. Being a SEAL . . . part of Naval Intelligence . . . I guess it's more deeply embedded than I'd realized. Old habits die hard."

"Apology accepted," Jax said. She swatted him with the dish towel. "And I get it, I do. Just . . . if you decide to go back, to the Navy . . . "

"I'm not -"

"If you do, you have to tell us. Me, Danny . . . Five-O," Jax said. "That's all, I just want to know. Don't just disappear on us."

Steve wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "Mary asked me the same thing. I promise, Jax - no disappearing acts." He traced his fingers over her shoulder blades.

"Get a room," Mary said, waltzing through the kitchen with her hands full of recycling. "Seriously, this is the last of the mess, and I'm going out. Don't wait up."

"Mary, are you sure you -" Steve started.

"Steve. Don't start," Mary said. "I'll be fine, I'll stick with the obvious places. Maybe I'll see if Kono can come with. But I need to go do something normal, something that doesn't involve the Navy and . . . I love you guys but I'm tired of watching hockey games on the DVR."

"I was going to ask if you were okay, and if you were sure you had enough cash," Steve said, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Oh. Yes, thank you," Mary said sheepishly. "I just . . . I'm okay, but this is just too much. I need to go out and not think about it for a while."

"Take the Supra, it's easier to park," Jax said.

"Be careful," Steve added softly.

Mary shot a grateful glance at Jax and grabbed the keys, along with her cellphone, and shoved her feet into a pair of low heeled booties. It might have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but Mary had brought her carefully careless style back with her from LA, and Steve couldn't help the pang of concern as to how not ridiculous his baby sister looked. He stared after the tail lights of the Supra.

Jax shook her head and smiled at him. "When you're done fretting over Mary, I'll be upstairs," she said. Pupule trotted up the stairs next to her, carefully avoiding her ankles.

Steve turned off the lights and was entering the final number of the alarm code when his subconscious gave him a head slap.

Upstairs, sailor, his brain nudged. Hooyah . . .

Steve took the stairs two at a time, grinning. Pupule's nose scrunched in protest as the bedroom door was rudely shut in his face, and he flopped down on his bed on the landing. Jax smirked at Steve from the door of the bathroom, where she was brushing her teeth, her hair piled in a loose clip at the back of her head, and her face scrubbed clean. He joined her at the sink, his eyes twinkling at hers in the small mirror, grinning lopsidedly at her around his toothbrush.

"Neanderthal," she mumbled good naturedly, as she spit into the sink and dropped her toothbrush into the cup with a resounding clink.

"Guilty as charged," he said cheerfully. He followed her into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. His fingers once again traced over the soft skin of her shoulder blades and then toyed with the fabric gathered in the center of her back. "I mentioned I liked this, didn't I?"

"You might have," she said, her words muffled into his chest. She sighed contentedly and wrapped her arms around his waist as his fingers deftly pulled the clip from her hair, allowing her burnished curls to tumble around her face. "It's really comfortable."

"Well, it's important for you to be comfortable," he murmured. His hands drifted down to her waist, his agile fingers undoing the button of her shorts. He paused, taking her shoulders gently and stepping back a bit. She looked up at him. "This okay?" he asked softly. "It's been . . . since WoFat, and . . . I'm happy to just hold you while you sleep, if that's what you need."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just . . . for a few days there I wasn't always sure what was real and what was . . . I needed to know it was real -"

"Hey, you don't need to explain or apologize," he said, cupping her face with his hands. He bent and kissed her carefully, deepening the kiss as she wrapped a hand around his neck with a delicious little sigh. He slid one hand into her hair, his fingers tangling in the curls, and pulled her close with one hand at the small of her back. He chuckled as the curve of her stomach nudged against him.

"Not funny," she complained. "I can barely reach around you."

"Because you're tiny," he said. "I can reach around you just fine, babies and all." He scooped her up to prove it, depositing her gently on the bed. He tugged her shorts off and shot them precisely into the hamper. Then he tilted her head at her appraisingly.

"What?" she said, just a little breathlessly. Her hands went to the hem of his t-shirt, and she started to tug. He helped her, shrugging out of it, and it joined her shorts in the hamper. Her fingers traced over the ink on his biceps, reacquainting herself with the reassuring swirls of color. "What?' she demanded, noticing that he was still studying her like she was a puzzle to be solved.

"I, ah . . . think that possibly - and this is good, this is very good, it means everything is progressing according to schedule, I'm sure - but I think that possibly the logistics of this particular mission have, um, changed," he said.

"Well, I seem to recall that this . . . particular mission . . . started with both of us injured," she said. Her deft fingers made short work of the buttons of his cargo pants. "And we managed, with our exceptional backgrounds in field medic training."

"Anatomy and physiology," he said, nodding. "I recall."

"I feel certain that we can navigate the logistics," she whispered, close to his ear, and then her lips were grazing over the soft patch of skin just beneath it.

"I happen to be excellent at navigation," he murmured, his breath hitching.

"Yeah?" she whispered. "Prove it . . . "