A/N: I have no idea how Naval Reserves works, the official status (if there is one) of SEALs in the reserves, who can order who to go where - and I didn't research it. I assume it's probably not researchable by mere mortals. So, much of this next bit is PURELY my imagination and what needed to happen to make my plot work. Also, my college level science courses included Environmental Biology and The Biology of Women. Anything I get *right* about science in this bit is purely by happy coincidence and google. Think escapism. Think . . . helicopters picking up cabins out of the midst of a raging forest fire. Generally, I pride myself on impeccable research but this time . . . eh. If it's good enough for the paid writers of the tv series, it's good enough for me.
#*#*#*#*#
Mary was thrilled to be included in a New Year's Eve party at Kono's. The assortment of surfing and law enforcement friends was unusual, and put some of Steve's lingering concerns over Mary to rest.
Jax and Steve dropped her off, with assurances that she'd be grabbing an Uber home, and headed to the Williams' home for New Year's Eve.
"Thanks ever so for coming," Rachel said, as she welcomed them at the door. "Gracie is beside herself . . . it's been ages since we've celebrated New Years with friends."
"Thanks for inviting us," Jax said, as an enthusiastic Gracie wrapped her arms as far around Jax as she could. "I absolutely don't feel like being jostled and shoved in some crowded bar. This is perfect. What smells so amazing?"
"Crown roast," Danny said, wiping his hands on a towel as he came out of the kitchen. "Plus plenty of vegetable dishes, don't worry."
"Anything that smells that good is bound to taste perfect," Jax assured them. "I'm back to meat. There's no explaining it."
"Pregnancy is its own explanation," Rachel said. "Don't expect to find logic or reason in pregnancy. Or motherhood, for that matter."
#*#*#*#*#
Steve smiled fondly as Jax navigated their way home, struggling a bit to reach the gas and brake pedals of the Silverado. With Jax as the designated driver, he'd indulged in a second glass of wine with dinner, and the celebratory champagne at midnight.
"Next year, we're getting someone to watch the babies and I'm taking you someplace nice for New Year's Eve," he declared.
"Danny's place is nice," Jax said. "And Gracie wiped the board with all of us in Monopoly. That's going to be hard to top, honestly."
He started to say something, but a ping from his phone interrupted them. He fished it out of his pocket, squinting at it. Instinctively, he straightened in his seat.
"Rear Admiral Vincas," he said. "Good evening, sir."
Jax's eyebrows shot up and she glanced at him, worried and curious. Steve started to put the phone on speaker, and then reluctantly pulled his finger away from the screen.
"Sir, given the time of your call, I suspect I should mention that this is not a secure line. My wife is in the vehicle with me. Actually, she's driving, we're about five minutes out from home," Steve added. There was a pause. "I understand. I would request that you send a driver to my residence, then, to give me a ride. Thank you sir, yes, best to be completely safe."
He ended the call and stared at Jax for a moment.
"Is it your mom?" she whispered.
His eyes widened. "God. I hope not. Not that we know of but . . ."
"You have to go to the base. Possibly further," she finished for him. "Possibly much further. National security?"
"Global," he said quietly. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Shit, Jax. I promised you I wouldn't do this. They promised me they wouldn't ask but . . ."
"They need you. Specifically," Jax said.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Well, don't let it go to your head, sailor," she said, grinning, as she turned onto their street.
"Jax, I -"
She pulled into their driveway, switched off the ignition, and shifted to face him. "Steve. Before I ever met you, I knew that you were Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett, ten feet tall and bulletproof. Danny told me . . . he told me that being part of the Navy, being a SEAL, it was your heart and soul. He likes to think we've made room for more, which he totally takes credit for, by the way, but still. I knew. I knew exactly what I was signing up for, remember? My dad was deployed several times, a few on very short notice. Looking back . . . I think he must have been very, very good at whatever it was he did. Anyway. They need you and . . . you need to do this. Yeah, the timing is a little dicey, and if you had a choice, I know you'd choose a different time but . . . you gotta."
He stretched his arm along the back of the truck seat, wrapped his hand around the back of her head, and kissed her. It was awkward and strangely angled and absolutely perfect.
By the time the driver arrived, Steve was in working uniform and had his seventy-two hour pack by the front door.
"You be careful," Steve said. "Anything - anything at all - feels off - you go straight to Tripler, you got it? And don't forget to set the alarm. Do you want me to have Bullfrog put someone on the house? No, wait, Grover could ask a buddy from HPD. I could go ahead and call the Harts -"
"Steve," Jax said, brushing her fingers across the name tapes on his chest. This was her favorite uniform. That always made him laugh, because in his experience, most women swooned over the dress whites. Jax wasn't most women, though, never had been. She knew the pain and loss behind most of the ribbons and medals. No, she preferred the uniform he preferred - the one simply identified him as a member of the Navy, just the small insignia to indicate his rank. Coming home from reserve weekends was usually very, very fun, as Jax took great delight in removing the uniform piece by piece . . . "Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm?" he said, blinking.
"I said, I will call Tripler at the slightest twinge, but that I will be absolutely fine," she repeated patiently. "And also, I said that it's okay for you to want to go. No guilt, okay? Just . . . try to get back before the babies come."
"Jax," he breathed, cupping her face in his hands.
He heard the polite, brief beep of the car waiting for him outside their house. He bent and kissed her, intending to keep it short and sweet. But he felt the need to somehow express to her how much he appreciated her uncanny ability to understand exactly what he was feeling, exactly what he needed, and the kiss quickly turned passionate. One hand tangled in her hair, and one at the small of her back, he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers, tucking her against his chest instead.
He heard the staccato beep of the car waiting for him in their driveway. Her hands fisted in his uniform for a moment, and then she was pushing gently against his chest.
"Go," she whispered. "Be safe. I love you."
He kissed the top of her head once more. "Be careful. Love you."
#*#*#*#*#
"You want me to go back to North Korea, back to where I lost Freddie," Steve repeated flatly, staring at Rear Admiral Vincas in disbelief.
"We're tracking satellite imagery of rogue North Korean militia that's intersected with an IP address and coordinates that this team has been following very, very closely," the admiral said. "It can't be a coincidence."
"Steve," Nick said quietly, on the other side of the conference table. "We've got highly suspicious activity moving around the exact location where you picked up Anton Hesse. And we've traced back one of Adam Chan's emails to a verified, authentic IP address. Same location."
Steve felt his heart stop and then start again with a thud.
"WoFat? You think you've got WoFat?" he asked, his hand clenching into a fist.
"Yes. And we think WoFat might be brokering a deal with this rogue militia, which makes the regular North Korean military look like boy scouts," the rear admiral said. "It's a political and global powder keg and it's not exaggeration to say that we are trying to stop a potentially global - potentially nuclear - incident."
"There's no time to get another team up to speed, Smooth Dog," Nick said, steepling his fingers together and leaning forward. "There's no other team that knows the terrain, knows the way in and out. We're it, brother."
"I need to let my wife and my Five-O team know -" Steve started.
"Out of the question," Rear Admiral Vincas cut him off short. "Your wife knows you've been called away on a mission for which you are uniquely qualified, that has global security implications. She can inform your team, and that's all the information they need."
Steve started to argue more, but the lightning fast processing and years of Naval Intelligence training took over, and he sighed in resignation. The admiral was correct. He couldn't - and shouldn't - reveal more. It was pointless and of no comfort or help to Jax and the others, and in the event of any sort of media leak, would make them targets of investigation.
"Sooner we go, sooner we get back," Nick murmured, wrapping a hand around his shoulder.
"You're going?" Steve asked.
"I said 'we', brother, I meant it," Nick said. "We're going to hump it double time to the border, the rest of the team will establish a base, and then you and I go in. Fast, silent - we recon and if need be . . . set explosives. I'm with you all the way. Your gear's on the plane and we have an eight hour flight to put together a plan. We gotta roll."
#*#*#*#*#
"You let him go?!" Mary shrieked.
Jax arched an eyebrow at her. She was tired, dark circles smudged under her eyes, her hands wrapped around her coffee mug. Sleep had eluded her, and she'd spent the rest of the night tossing and turning. Pupule had finally abandoned the coveted position on the bed.
"Mary. First of all, no one 'lets' Steve do anything. You know better," Jax said quietly. "Secondly, if it was important enough for him to go, then . . . he had to. For him not to go, for something like this . . . it would be like me driving past the scene of a wreck and not stopping to help. It's . . . it's in our DNA."
"Yeah, like mother like son," Mary said bitterly. She was slightly hungover and now wired on adrenaline - an unfortunate combination.
"It's totally different," Jax said.
"Whatever," Mary said, flouncing over to the coffee pot and sloshing some into a mug. "Bottom line, mom bailed. She left us. Now Steve's left us. You're a month away from having his baby - God, babies - and he left. You have no idea - I've been through this before - you have no idea what it's like, to be left behind -"
"Really?!" Jax shouted. "Really, Mary? I have no idea?"
"I was a child," Mary yelled. "I was in fucking middle school, my mom died, my dad shipped me away to the mainland. I lost my mom, my dad, and my brother in one fell swoop."
"You still have your brother," Jax hissed between gritted teeth.
"No. The Navy has my brother," Mary said. "It's always come first. Always. Take a number. Get in line."
Jax watched helplessly as Mary grabbed her tote bag and flounced out the door.
"I don't think you should drive, Mary," she called, rubbing her back absently as she tried to catch up to her.
"Not planning on it," Mary shot back. She was texting furiously as she stomped off the porch and toward the street.
Jax pulled Steve's hoodie closer around her and sat down on the front porch, watching until Mary was out of sight. She tried Mary's cell phone several times, to no avail. Finally, she gave up and went inside, moving around the house aimlessly. She dusted, vacuumed, tossed in a load of laundry. She started to pull the sheets off the bed, but changed her mind as she held Steve's pillow to her face.
The morning seemed to go on forever, minutes passing sluggishly into hours, until finally Jax felt like she could call Chin without waking him up.
"Happy New Year, Jax," Chin said, picking up on the other end of the line. "Everything okay?"
"No," Jax said. She had to stop and clear her throat. "Is there a way you could ping Mary's cell phone, without having to go into the office?"
"I can. What's wrong? Where's Steve?" Jax could hear Chin moving quickly and efficiently through his house, firing up his laptop in his home office.
"Steve got a call . . . he had to go. It was a matter of global security," Jax added defensively. "Mary is furious, she stormed out of here, I think she was calling a friend to come get her . . . I just want to know that she's safe and okay."
"Jax, what do you mean he had to go? Are you okay?" Chin asked, even as his fingers flew over the keyboard.
"I'm fine, I need to be sure Mary is okay," Jax insisted.
A long moment passed as Jax listened to the soft clicking of Chin typing in information and passwords. "I have her at Kahala Mall," he said finally.
"Shopping," Jax sighed. "I never understood the idea of shopping as a means of diversion. I guess she's safe enough there."
"Jax, just give her some space," Chin said. "You want us to go over and check on her? I'm sure Malia wouldn't object to a nice lunch and a little post-holiday bargain hunting. Maybe we could get eyes on her. Discreetly."
"Maybe . . . maybe that would be okay," Jax said, uncertain. "It's just - she's really, really upset, Chin. I don't know what to do, and I'm afraid . . . she's promised not to drink and drive, but I know . . ."
"We know, Jax," Chin said softly. "Steve's had to arrange for a couple of short rehab visits for Mary, since their dad died. You're not betraying any confidences. It shows how much you care, that you're worried . . . and you're right. This is an incredibly stressful situation for her, and we don't want her to get hurt."
"Thanks," Jax sighed in relief.
"I'm equally concerned about you," Chin said. "You call us, call Malia, if you need anything. Got it?"
"I'm fine, just worried about Mary," Jax insisted. "Thank you so much, Chin."
"Ohana," Chin said simply. "Of course."
#*#*#*#*#
Jax was sitting by the water when she heard the familiar purr of the Camaro's engine. Danny, of course. Chin probably called him before even leaving for the mall. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair, suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted.
"Hey, rookie," Danny said softly, easing into the chair next to hers.
"Danny. It's your day off," she sighed. "You should be home with your family."
"See, the thing about Steve . . . I spent six months on this godforsaken island, completely alone. Except for Meka. No friends, no family. Precious little time with Gracie. Rachel hated me. Stan tolerated me. Mr. Hoppy? He bit my finger and peed on my favorite tie. And then Steve pulled a gun on me, then conscripted me into Five-O. And then, I had a family. Then you dropped out of the sky into the Honolulu Airport, shit beat out of you, barely holding it together, and not only did I have my new family, my ohana, I had a little piece of Jersey back in my life. So, I am home, with my family. Right here, next to you. Later, if you're up to it, Rach will bring the kids over. But right here, right this minute, I'm exactly where I need to be. Why the hell didn't you call me? You shoulda called me, the minute he left." Danny stopped, finally, his hands coming to rest in his lap.
"It was the middle of the night," Jax said. "And then Mary came home, and she was so furious, and . . ."
"Mary will get sorted," Danny said. "Steve's coddled her a bit, I think. Understandable. She's a good kid, a good person . . . she's terrified, and lashing out. And you?"
"I'm a Navy wife," Jax said. "When you told me about Steve? That's how you described him - as a SEAL. I knew he was a SEAL, knew he always would be. You don't retire from that, you're never an 'ex-SEAL'. I knew what I was signing on for, Danny. I'm proud of his service."
"That's all about Steve," Danny said. "I know who he is, the big lug. I wanna know - how terrified are you, babe? 'Cause, I gotta say, I'm terrified. He's my best friend, my brother . . . hell, pretty much my brother-in-law . . . and I'm scared. I'm scared something will happen to him. I'm scared he'll get hurt. I'm scared he won't come home. You scared, Jax?"
She nodded, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.
"Yeah, it's okay to be scared," Danny said. He slipped out of his chair and came to stand behind hers, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She held on tight to his thickly muscled forearms and sobbed as he murmured words of consolation and kissed the top of her head.
When she was all cried out, Danny pulled out a wad of tissue and held it to her nose, just like he would have for Gracie.
"Blow," he instructed, and she did.
"How come you know how to do that?" she asked, sniffing.
"It was in the manual they sent home from the hospital with Grace," he said.
"They send home a manual?" Jax asked, perking up. No one had told her there'd be a manual.
"They - no, you hopeless wing nut, the closest thing to a manual you get is the book we gave you for Christmas," Danny said.
"Oh. It seems helpful," Jax said.
"It is helpful, if you're not too scared to read it," Danny said. "Now. Guess what I brought with me?"
"Whiskey," Jax said. "A pack of cigarettes. Coffee."
"You are really bad at being pregnant, I'm gonna just say it," Danny said. "I did bring coffee. I also brought a case of the best canned tomato I could find, a bag of produce from the market, and that good sausage and ground beef you like, from the butchers. Guess what we're gonna do?"
"Start a meth lab," Jax said grumpily.
"Little shit," Danny muttered, taking her hand and pulling her up from her chair. "I also called my ma. In New Jersey. Time difference be damned. And you know why I called my ma?"
Jax stopped, her eyes going wide. "Your mom's gravy? We're going to make your mom's gravy?"
"You swear to never reveal the recipe to anyone, so help you God?" Danny intoned.
Jax nodded vigorously, wiping her eyes.
"Okay. 'Cause you got babies coming, you should have a freezer full of gravy," Danny said. His hand wrapped around hers, warm and comforting, and they started walking toward the house.
"And coffee? You said there was coffee . . . "
#*#*#*#*#
"We're about an hour from the base," Nick said quietly. He and Steve had their heads bent over a topographical map.
"Copy that," Steve murmured. He was calculating distance, angle, likelihood of cover. Trying to quantify their best chances of getting in, getting out, and getting home alive.
"It may not be WoFat," Nick said.
"I know. You've reminded me a dozen times," Steve said.
Nick was like a dog with a bone. "You gonna be able to handle it, if it is WoFat?"
"I'll do what the Navy sent me to do," Steve said. He dropped his eyes back to the map.
"Dog. I was there, remember? I saw . . ." he dropped his voice, mindful of Steve's and Jax's privacy. "I saw him hold a knife to her stomach, Steve. That was my wife, my unborn children? Not sure there'd be any objectivity left at this point. I want to know, can you handle it?"
"I'm not going to compromise the mission, endanger the team, or risk your life," Steve said. "Damn it, Bullfrog, that's the best I can do. Okay?"
Nick nodded. It would have to do. He waited until Steve disappeared into the back of the plane to sort his gear, and then went to talk to the rest of the team. He had some very, very specific instructions to give them.
#*#*#*#*#
Chin and Malia had planned to keep their distance if they saw Mary, and simply report back to Jax, assure her of Mary's safety. The sight of her sitting on a bench outside the Baby Gap, sobbing, changed their plan.
"Oh, bless her," Malia murmured, as they approached.
"Mary," Chin said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, sweetheart."
She covered her face with her hands. "I was awful. I was awful to Jax. I can't believe he did this to her, to us. To me. He left. He went God knows where, and what if he doesn't come back?"
Chin and Malia sat on either side of her.
"I was supposed to be here to help, with the babies, and I was awful. She won't want me back in the house, and who will help her with the babies? She's clueless, honestly, and what if - what if something awful happens to Steve, she'll be alone," Mary wailed. "I'll be alone."
"No one is going to be alone," Chin said firmly. "Let us drive you home."
Mary shook her head. "I forgot. I was so upset about Steve and . . . dad, and mom and . . . I forgot that she lost her brother. And I said some awful things. I can't go home."
"Of course you can," Malia said. "Who do you think sent us to check on you?"
Mary sniffed. "Jax? She sent you?"
"You didn't answer her calls," Chin said. "She was worried, wanted us to check and be sure you were safe."
"She set Five-O on me, to track me down, you mean," Mary said. "She's as bad as Steve."
"She and Steve have lost too many of the people they love," Malia said. "You have to accept that they are going to be overprotective. The point is that Jax was much more worried about your safety than she was by anything you may have said while you were upset."
"Their poor kids," Mary grumbled. "It's a good thing they'll have a cool aunt."
#*#*#*#*#
"I hate the cold," Steve said absently, as his eight man team picked their way through the frozen vegetation. "I didn't think it bothered me, all the places I've been deployed. Thought I hated Afghanistan sand more. But no. Definitely hate the cold most. Hate North Korea."
Nick glanced at him. Steve's hatred of North Korea probably had a lot less to do with climate and a lot more to do with watching his best friend bleed out as he sped away with their target, and then standing in a frozen field, listening to his dad murdered half a world away. He didn't think now was the time to point that out.
"You put together a good team," Steve said quietly, tilting his head to the six men picking their way carefully behind them. To Steve's surprise, they weren't all SEALs: there was also a munitions expert, a communications whiz, and a field surgeon.
"Catherine," Nick said. "Catherine put together the team. If this mission is successful, she'll probably end up outranking me."
"Pretty sure they outrank us in every way that really matters, anyway," Steve said, grinning. He held up his fist, and the men behind him stopped, quiet as a sigh. Instructions were given, equipment was set. Six men would stay in the DMZ, just shy of the North Korean border.
The munitions expert pressed radiation sensitive badges onto the velcro of Steve and Nick's uniforms.
"They may have gotten more sophisticated since you were last here, sir," he said. "We hope not, but . . . best not to take chances."
"We'll be radio silent," Steve said. "You're close enough . . . if shit hits the fan, you probably won't need us to tell you. You'll hear it. We don't make it back by the agreed upon extraction time, you drop back another two clicks into South Korea. Don't stay in the DMZ, understood?"
They nodded in agreement.
Steve and Nick continued forward, moving silently through the ground cover.
"There's a little part of you that doesn't hate this," Nick said, his eyes twinkling.
Steve looked at him, unable to smother a grin. "Hooyah."
#*#*#*#*#
"Oh, thank God," Jax murmured, throwing her arms around Mary. "You're okay? You're sure you're okay?" She mouthed a thank you to Chin over Mary's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Mary blurted. "I'm so pissed at Steve. And you're so damn calm and mature about the whole thing I was pissed at you, too. You didn't go into labor or anything, did you?"
"I'm fine," Jax said. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm a tiny bit pissed at the Navy, for asking, if I'm being honest."
"I think that's okay," Mary said. "Have you heard anything?"
"It doesn't work that way, Mary," Jax said gently.
Mary's face fell and her eyes filled with tears.
"I'll call Catherine later," Jax promised.
"Steve's Catherine?" Mary asked dubiously. "Of the 'oh god oh god oh god' Catherine fame?"
"Yeah, I wasn't mad at you so far but don't push it," Jax warned.
Mary shrugged. "Whatever. Steve seems to have way more fun with you than he ever did with her."
Malia laughed as Chin covered his face with his hand.
"I think that's our cue to leave," Chin said.
"We made Danny's mom's tomato gravy," Jax said. "There's going to be pasta. And pizza. You could stay. Rachel is bringing Gracie and Charles Nolan over . . ."
"You'd like some company?" Malia asked softly.
Jax nodded and looked at Mary. "If it's okay with Mary, yeah. I mean, unless people have other plans . . ."
"I'll call Kono and Grover," Chin said decisively. "We'll take shifts if it comes to it. I promised Mary that no one was going to be alone, and I meant it."
#*#*#*#*#
Nick caught Steve glancing at his watch more than once.
"Got someplace to be?" he asked drily. They were picking their way painstakingly toward the camp. Landmines were, at some point, going to be an issue. It was just a matter of how increasingly paranoid the militia had become.
"It's late evening back home," Steve said. "Damn. Mary. She's going to be furious with me. I should have . . ."
"She would have been furious either way," Nick said. "It's Danny I would worry about."
Steve chuckled. "Danny'll be busy fussing over Jax like a mother hen. God, I hope she's okay. She seemed okay. Nothing was happening."
"We'll get you home in time, Smooth Dog," Nick said.
They fell silent as the first signs of the encampment became visible. Taking cover, they pulled out their dulled binocs and peered into the camp.
"I'm seeing only militia," Nick murmured. "No official North Korean presence. But there's a tacit tolerance to the militia. Pentagon thinks North Korea will gladly finish anything this militia starts."
"I see standard perimeter security," Steve said. "No towers, that's to our advantage. We come in low."
"My money's on the building to your two o'clock as their munitions storage," Nick said. "If we can get past those two guards on the northwest corner . . ."
"Agreed. Take out those guards, set explosives . . ." Steve said.
"They can't start anything without weapons," Nick finished. "In the chaos, we look for the person giving orders. Take him down. One very serious question."
Steve looked at him expectantly.
"If WoFat is in this camp, will we bump into your mom? And if so, how the hell do we keep her safe?" Nick asked.
Steve shook his head. "Too many variables. We focus on the target."
"Improvise the rest?" Nick asked, grinning.
#*#*#*#*#
Catherine wasn't surprised to see Steve's number on her caller id. She answered the call with a simple hello.
"Catherine," Jax said. "I'm sorry to . . . well. I don't know, exactly. Steve left his phone here. That means, wherever he's going, he worries about exposure for all of his friends and family."
"You know I can't respond to that," Catherine said.
"I know," Jax said. She was sitting on the second story lanai. The official story was that she needed to use the bathroom - again - but the truth was she just needed a few minutes of quiet. A few minutes away from the sympathetic glances of the rest of the team.
"He wouldn't have gone if there'd been any other way," Catherine said. "They wouldn't have asked if there'd been anyone else to ask."
"I know. Nick?" Jax asked simply, knowing that Catherine couldn't confirm or deny.
Catherine was silent.
"So," Jax said. "You're alone?"
"Well. I'm on a military base," Catherine said wryly. "There isn't much 'alone' at Pearl Hickam."
"Come over," Jax said.
"Jax, I can't divulge -" Catherine started.
"No, I know," Jax sighed. "Come over. Don't be alone. The team is here, there's food . . ."
"That's - incredibly generous," Catherine said. "I'm on duty. I'm . . . monitoring."
"I understand," Jax said.
"But . . . thank you," Catherine said quietly. She hesitated a moment. "They have an agreement. The group that went. Steve makes it home. No matter what, they make sure he comes home."
"Steve won't agree to that," Jax said.
"They know. They're not going to bother to tell him," Catherine said.
"That will work better," Jax said.
"Whatever I can do on this end to bring them home safe . . ." Catherine said.
"I know. Thank you, Catherine," Jax said quietly. She ended the call, then idly flipped through the pictures on Steve's phone. Her vision blurred and a dull ache set in behind her eyes. She sighed, tucking his phone into her pocket, next to her own, and went to fetch her glasses.
Chin, Malia, and Danny were putting away the last of the dishes.
"I'm sorry, I lost track of time," Jax said, wandering into the kitchen.
"It's not a problem," Chin assured her. "Mary is taking refuge in a bubble bath. Grover and Rachel headed home with their families. Kono and Brian went to check in at the office, make sure there aren't any impending Five-O cases."
"And Chin and I are going to head home, as long as you're okay," Malia said. "Any pain, cramping?"
"Little bit of a headache," Jax said. "I'm really tired. Maybe a little dehydrated?"
Danny filled a glass with water and handed it to her.
"A Tylenol wouldn't hurt," Malia said. "Shall I check your blood pressure?"
"If the water and Tylenol doesn't take care of it, I'll check," Jax assured her.
"Try to rest," Malia said. "Preferably on your left side. Or with your feet elevated."
"I will," Jax promised.
"And call us, the minute you need anything or hear anything," Chin said, as he and Malia headed out the door.
Danny fished a Tylenol out of the cabinet and handed it to Jax. She swallowed it, making a face.
"You need to go home, Danny," she mumbled around a second sip of water. "You've got family to take care of."
"Thought we covered this when I got here," Danny said, his blue eyes crinkling in a smile. "Grace went home with Lou and Renee, so that Rachel could sleep in tomorrow, putter around with Charlie. I'm staying here tonight. Go on up to bed, get some sleep."
She kissed his cheek absently and padded up the stairs, beyond exhausted. Pupule fell into step next to her, and Danny heard the soft snick of her door closing. He grabbed a beer and stepped out onto the lanai.
"I promised them a very happy new year," he said, staring at the stars. "You're not gonna make a liar out of me, right? Because, I gotta tell you - those two . . . their faith is spread pretty thin. Come to think of it, mine is, too."
#*#*#*#*#