Rachel brushed angry tears out of her eyes as she drove. Charlie was babbling in the back seat, grabbing for his chubby toes, the confusion and frustration of not being handed off to his beloved daddy already forgotten.

She stopped at a red light and glanced down at her phone. There was a text message from Renee. Simple, to the point.

I'm home, if you need to talk.

Rachel took a deep breath and switched her turn signal from right to left.

#*#*#*#*#

Steve paused at the coffee truck outside of Tripler - excellent product placement, he thought idly, reaching for his wallet. He found Jax pacing in the hallway outside of Trauma 1, still, and handed her a huge cappuccino.

"God, I adore you," she said.

"Because I bring you coffee?"

"Please, I'm not that shallow. It's not just coffee. You also have a remarkable ass."

"How's Danny?"

Jax took a long sip of her coffee before answering. "The injury is similar to what I had, with the pallet shrapnel from that shoot-out on the docks. So, he's gonna feel like crap for a while."

"Shit," Steve said, leaning against the wall.

"He's getting cleaned up. He'll be sidelined for a while," Jax said. "So . . . today was a clusterfuck?"

"Putting it mildly," Steve said.

Jax slipped her arm around his waist, and he took a moment to pull her against him, reveling in the feel of her soft curls under his chin.

"You smell like baby lotion," he said.

Jax laughed. "Could be worse things, I hope? If Mary hadn't been home today . . . I don't know. I need to come up with back-up plans, you know? But, after their first round of vaccinations, Annie and Billy can be checked in to the Tripler day-care. So, just a few more weeks. It'll work out, right?"

"Yeah, it'll work out. I can wait here to drive Danny home, Jax, if you want to -"

"That won't be necessary, but thank you." Rachel's unmistakable accent interrupted their conversation.

They turned, surprised, to see her standing in the hallway behind them.

"Rachel, hey," Steve said. "You okay?"

"All the business of the supposed British reserve? Highly exaggerated, at least in this case," Rachel said. "I'm sorry . . . what you must think, me dashing out of here like the bloody hounds of hell were on my heels. I'm just not accustomed to . . . that," Rachel said. She gestured gracefully toward the door of Trauma 1. "I handled it poorly, I admit but . . . I'm only human. I'm a civilian, I believe is how you would put it."

Gus slipped out of the room and gave Rachel an appraising look, then nodded.

"Well, come on, then," she said, not unkindly.

Rachael turned to Steve and Jax.

"Thank you, for being here," she said. "It . . . it is different, this time. In New Jersey we didn't have - I didn't have what I have here."

"So . . . you're good?" Jax asked cautiously.

"You mean, can I be trusted to tend to Danny and not go completely barmy? Yes," Rachel said. "I'm sure both of you have things to do?"

"We're being dismissed," Jax said.

"We are," Steve said. He took her by the elbow before she let her temper get the better of her, and steered her toward the door. He looked back over his shoulder at Rachel. "You need anything, you call any one of us, okay?"

"You took care of Danny all that time that she was being horrible," Jax muttered.

"Yeah, but I didn't kiss his boo boos, and I'm pretty sure he's going to prefer that," Steve said.

"Fine," Jax said. "See you tonight?"

He stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face her, sliding his hand into her hair and bending down to kiss her, soft and gentle.

"Late," he said. "We're running down leads, running through footage . . . this case is taking some weird turns. And hurting my people. But we're going to settle it, and then you and I . . ."

He trailed off, smiling that slow, special smile that she recognized as exclusively hers.

"We're going to . . . hmm, what are we going to do?" she pretended to ponder. "Oh, yes, inventory diapers and restock the formula cabinet."

"That, too," he said, kissing her forehead, "and then we are going to go away, just the two of us, away from international criminals and dead NCIS agents and . . ."

"Away from Annie and Billy," she added. "We'll miss them."

"I miss them right this minute," Steve said. "So I'm going to go back to work so I can get home to them, and to you. Drive safe."

"Sure."

He pointed at her. "Crisis is over, you do not have cause to use lights and sirens on the way home."

#*#*#*#*#

Danny looked up as the door opened.

"Rach?"

"Hello, Daniel."

His eyes scrunched together in confusion. "Where's Charlie? Don't you have to pick up Gracie? What's . . . you're not here to tell me you're taking the kids, please, God, Rachel -"

"No, Danny!" She rushed to his side. "No, I'm not . . . I'm sorry, for dashing out, I just - I never dealt well with this part, you know that."

"I do. You left me for another man and took my daughter halfway around the world because of this part, " Danny sighed. He struggled to reach for his bag, and she picked it up and placed it gently on the bed.

"Are you going to keep punishing me for that?" she asked.

"I don't know, Rach, are you going to keep doing it?" Danny was tired, and hurting, and he couldn't believe they were back at this again.

"No. No, I'm not. I'm here, at this moment, to help you get dressed and drive you home, where I plan to tuck you onto the sofa and spoil you stupid until you insist on going back to work, much too soon, and then I will be there when you drag your exhausted and hurting arse back in the door. And we'll repeat the process ad infinitum, until you retire," Rachel said.

"Oh." Danny was momentarily speechless.

"You're justifiably wary," Rachel said. She opened his bag and started pulling out clean clothes, thankful that his bloodied clothes had been tidied away - hopefully bound for the incinerator. "When I left here, Grover must have contacted Renee. She suggested I stop in to chat with her."

Danny winced as Rachel helped guide his arms into his shirt.

"She reminded me of a few things," Rachel said, smoothly taking over the buttoning. "The honor of being a cop's wife, the fact that I'd signed on for another tour, fully aware of the consequences . . . but mostly, of the fact that this isn't New Jersey. And then she took Charles, arranged to pick up Grace from school, and keep them both overnight. She'll drop Charles back after she deposits Grace at school tomorrow, with Samantha and Will."

"Wow, that's very generous," Danny said. He bit back a groan as he slid off the gurney and tried to shove his feet in his shoes.

"Indeed. I should advise you, we will have Samantha and Will for Lou and Renee's anniversary weekend, coming up in a few months - but you mustn't tell Lou, it's a surprise trip," Rachel said. "Daniel, are you quite sure you should even leave the hospital?"

Danny was clammy and pale, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

"It's a graze, Rachel," he said. "Just . . . hurts more than it did a decade ago, you know? Let's go home. I really, really want to go home."

#*#*#*#*#

"What have you got?" Steve asked, exiting the elevator to find Chin, Grover, and Kono standing around the smart table.

"Dillinger's timeline checks out," Chin said. "Security camera footage has him arriving at her apartment just five minutes before the 911 call. He never went inside. Rang the bell, apparently tried to text and call her, then . . . looked in through the garage window. Nearly managed to get his fist through it, before making the call."

Chin pressed a button, and grainy footage began to play on the plasma: Dillinger, hands cupped around his eyes, peering into the small garage window, then frantically beating on it, shouting, before grabbing at his phone and yelling into it.

"He looks genuinely distraught," Grover said. "Matches his account. Definitely explains the superficial cuts and bruising on his hands."

"So, if he's telling the truth about that . . . " Steve paced in front of the table, hands on his hips, then stopped. "Let's assume he's telling the truth about surfing, the evening before. That the surf got too rough, he wanted to call it quits, she didn't, and stayed."

"That would make anyone else surfing possibly the last to see her alive," Grover said.

"Dillinger said that they were at the North Shore," Steve said.

"Not much by way of security equipment out there," Kono said. "Maybe something on one of the bath houses, but salt water corrodes everything as fast as they install it."

"North Shore tends to have a pretty stable group of regulars, though," Chin pointed out. "And it's getting close to the time Dillinger said they started."

"I'll go interview," Kono said.

Steve made a split second decision. "I'm going with Kono. Lou, Chin, you double back on the missing drug angle. Even if Dillinger is innocent of her murder, he's mixed up with these dealers. It's still our best lead to find out who killed Graff, and close her last open case."

"I don't need -" Kono started to protest.

"Let's go," Steve said, speaking over her with quiet authority.

The drive to the North Shore was long enough that Steve didn't feel rushed. He let the scenery flow by them for a while, windows down, the air blowing Kono's hair away from her face. He waited until he sensed her relax and settle a bit before he spoke.

"You made an excellent shot today, Kono," he said. "I couldn't see your position, but based on what I could see, you set up, what, on the third or fourth stair? Used the top step to stabilize?"

"Yeah."

"That's how I would have done it. Did you go for the apricot, try to avoid the chance of reflexive trigger pull?"

"His finger moved off the trigger," Kono said. "When he heard the sirens. He moved his finger, and that's when I took the shot."

"Even better," Steve said. "It was a good shot, Kono. It was exactly what I would have done."

"Thanks, boss," she said. She turned her face away from him and looked out the window.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and just about the time he thought maybe he'd misjudged her, her hand flew to her mouth.

"Pull over," she mumbled. "Now. Pull over, damn it -"

He eased the bulky truck off the road, into the grass, and she flung the door open, practically falling out of it. By the time he put the truck in park, exited, and got to her, she was on her knees, retching into the grass. He knelt behind her, holding her hair back with one hand and letting the other rest lightly between her shoulder blades, until she seemed to be finished.

"'M'sorry," she muttered, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

He took her elbows in his hands and lifted her gently to her feet.

"Don't apologize," he said, as he turned to grab a towel and water bottle out of the back seat of the truck. He handed both items to her.

"For one thing, you missed the truck," he started, eliciting a chuckle from her. "I was starting to worry. No one in their right mind would take a shot like that and be unaffected."

"You thought I was a psychopath, boss?" she asked, after rinsing her mouth out and spitting into the grass. She took another small sip of the water, the dumped some into her hand and splashed it on her face.

"Nah, just for a second there. If It were easy, Kono . . . well. It isn't easy, and we don't want it to be. You made the right call. There was no talking him down, and with HPD closing in, the odds of him killing Danny - even unintentionally, in a blind panic - were increasing exponentially. I'm sorry you had to be the one to do it. If I'd had a clean shot, I would have taken it. I would have preferred to spare you that."

"You saying I can't handle it?" Kono asked.

"No. You can handle it. This - this is part of handling it. This is a normal response. A little delayed, but that's also normal," he said. "Come 'ere."

He opened his arms and she stepped into them, letting him fold her into a hug.

"I thought I'd killed Danny," she whispered. She hadn't let herself say it out loud, couldn't, until her face was tucked safely in his shoulder.

"Close range, it's bad," he said. "I'm sorry, Kono. I know that feeling. But you didn't. You saved Danny's life."

"When he went down, when Danny fell with him, and there was so much blood and . . . I thought I'd missed. I thought I'd killed Danny," she said.

"I know. I was scared, too, Kono. But I didn't doubt you. I thought Paxton had managed to get a shot off, until he fell," Steve said. "I thought Paxton had killed Danny."

She pulled back and looked at him, skeptical.

"I swear. It never crossed my mind that you would take a shot and miss, Kono. Maybe I haven't told you enough, or maybe you just haven't been on a large enough force to realize . . . you're exceptional. I'm the only other person on the team that could have made that shot," he said. "With training, you'll be better than me. There's no doubt in my mind. But if you don't ever want to pick up a rifle again, I'll understand, and respect that."

She pressed her lips together. "But I do want to. Is that bad?"

"No, that's not bad. That's what it takes to be a world-class sniper," he said. "When this settles, when you're ready, we'll train more. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Alright, let's go interview surfers," he said.

"We should have brought our boards, brah," Kono sighed. "Wasting a perfectly good drive to the North Shore . . ."

#*#*#*#*#

Danny shuffled out of the bathroom and toward the sofa.

"Feel better?" Rachel asked, as he eased himself gingerly down to the cushion. She consulted the sheaf of papers containing his discharge instructions, and then carefully tipped out a dose of pain medication and his antibiotic.

"Definitely an improvement," he said. He glanced around their unusually quiet family room.

"What is it?" Rachel asked. "Water - let me get you a glass of water . . . "

"It's not that, it's -" Danny sighed as she disappeared around the corner.

She came bustling back in with a glass of water and a plate of cheese and crackers.

"Your instructions say to take your medication with food."

"Rachel. Please, would you just - thank you, really but - would you sit down? Please," Danny said. He gave the sofa cushion next to him a gentle pat.

She sat down in the chair across from him.

"Rachel. I'm fine. Look, they didn't even keep me overnight," he said. He smiled at her over the rim of his glass as he tossed back his pills with a sip of the water.

She swallowed hard.

"There was so much blood, Danny," she said softly. "You were - it was smeared, everywhere, and your clothes were . . . I was terrified."

"Come'ere," he said, patting the cushion again.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, but she crossed the room and sat down next to him. He put his arm around her and tucked her into his good side.

"Honey, that wasn't my blood," he said. He watched, giving her a minute to process the information.

"That was - oh. Oh, my," she said, touching her fingers to her mouth.

"I'm sorry it scared you," he said.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted, just bolting like that but - Daniel, I'm not like Jacqueline, or Steven," she said. "I just not accustomed to - to all of that gore, and blood, and - I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry for everything that they've witnessed, that they've endured, that's left them able to handle it so easily, but I've not been through it, and I'm not like them."

Danny wrapped his hand around hers. "Rachel, no one expects or wants you to be accustomed to blood and gore. We don't expect civilians to deal with it easily. Chin, Kono, and I don't handle things the same way that Jax and Steve do. But Rach, you gotta understand - they deal with it because of extensive training that none of the rest of us have. Least of all you."

"I don't like the sight of blood," Rachel said. "I don't like hospitals. And you get hurt, so often, Danny. I understand more, now, I'm better about the long hours, and the middle of the night phone calls, and . . . but I'm afraid I may never be able to just waltz into an emergency room with aplomb. And I forbid the children to be exposed to it, Daniel. I refuse."

"Okay, so . . . don't come to the emergency room," Danny said, shrugging. "If I get sent home, it's not bad enough to go through all that trouble. If I get admitted, then come in when I've been settled into a room. By that time, everything is more under control. Cleaned up."

She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "No one would understand, Danny, they would think -"

"I don't care, Rachel, first of all," Danny said. "And give my - our - friends some credit. This, right here, this is the part I missed while we weren't together. You may not be great at emergency rooms. But you're great at taking care of me, of our family, especially when we're hurt or sick. It so happens -" Danny pretended to glance around, and lowered his voice to a whisper - "I like a little pampering when I'm hurt or sick."

"Oh, that's no secret," Rachel laughed. She stopped, and looked at Danny. "Oh, Danny . . . when I was with Stan, how - who -?"

"Well, I had Steve," Danny sighed. "And he did his best, he did. But, he didn't kiss me to make it better."

"Ah, that's the secret?" Rachel asked.

"I think that's the secret," Danny said, his eyes twinkling at her.

She turned, carefully, in his arms, and cupped his face in her hands, and proceeded to demonstrate her healing powers, until a pained grunt escaping Danny brought them both up short.

"Sorry," Rachel murmured. "Let's move the pampering to the bedroom, shall we? Get you all propped up and comfy for the night."

Danny let her give him a hand up from the sofa. He smiled at her, and tucked her hair away from her face.

"Rachel, you made the call about the kids today, and I support you in that, one hundred percent," he said. "But . . . I'm a cop, Rach. That's not going to change. And I think the kids would be fine with me being a little banged up."

"I don't like it, Danny," she said. "I don't like them being exposed to this."

Danny sighed. "I think . . . okay. Let's table this for now but . . . we're going to have to come to an agreement on this, Rachel. Something that works for all of us."

She nodded, and slipped her hand into his.

"In the meantime, a foot massage?" she suggested.

"Yeah, Steve never did that, either," Danny said.