By the time Steve got home, it was dark. He could see a warm light glowing in the baby's room, and he sat in the truck, staring at the house, thinking about the early months, back on the island, when he came home every night to darkness and emptiness.

He could hear Danny's voice in his head.

Well, get in there, don't sit out here like a schmuck, what's wrong with you?

His long strides carried him from the driveway to the front porch and up the steps. As he opened the front door, he could hear muffled sounds coming from the nursery. He made his way to the room and stopped in the doorway.

Jax was holding Annie in the crook of one arm, her bottle propped under her chin, and holding Billy's bottle with the other hand reaching into the crib.

"Need a hand?" Steve asked, grinning.

"I need eight," Jax said. She looked at him through a tumble of curls that had fallen over her eyes.

He chuckled and crossed to the crib quickly, slipping a hand under Billy's back and taking the bottle from Jax, his fingers brushing against hers. Billy protested loudly until he was cradled against Steve's chest, and then he resumed working busily on his bottle.

"Hey," Steve whispered. He smiled down at Billy, then kissed the top of his head.

"Take the chair," Jax said, tilting her head toward the rocker. "You look dead on your feet. How's the case?"

Steve sank into the rocker and propped his elbow on the arm, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He moved back and forth slowly as he answered.

"Kono and I interviewed the regulars at North Shore," he said. "Graff and Dillinger were there; she stayed, he didn't. Turns out they distinctly remember her having an epic wipeout, her board caught her on the back of the head. We've checked all of the hospitals and walk-in clinics, and there's no evidence that suggests she got it checked out."

"No shit," Jax said. "So . . . accidental?"

"Max is going to have forensics go over everything, but yeah, looks like," Steve said. "Preliminary finding is post concussion syndrome, and related accidental carbon monoxide poisoning. She must have passed out after starting her car, before she hit the button on the garage door."

"She might have been disoriented," Jax mused. "And Dillinger?"

"His career is over," Steve said. "Obstruction of justice, and . . . " He stopped and rubbed his hand over his face. "I think he had feelings for Graff, maybe was in love with her, even. If he'd just come clean with her, maybe . . . I don't know. We solved the case but I don't feel any better about it."

"I hate those," Jax said. "Would a couple of sandwiches and a beer help?"

"Yes," Steve groaned. "Yes, that would help so much."

Billy finished his bottle with a wet gurgle, and Steve propped him up, patting between his tiny shoulder blades. He was rewarded with a resounding burp and a blob of formula on his neck.

"Dude, unnecessary," Steve said fondly. Billy gurgled at him. The blob ran down the inside of his shirt.

"I'll finish up here, you can go shower," Jax laughed. "I'll bring you a sandwich, we can sit outside."

"Perfect," Steve said. He deposited Billy back into the crib, wiping his tiny mouth with the hem of his shirt. He bent and kissed the top of Annie's head, and then brushed his lips gently across Jax's cheek on his way to the hall.

He lingered in the shower, letting the hot water ease the tension in his shoulders, the ache that had been there since that morning, his muscles still tight from holding his gun trained on Paxton, hands clenched around the grip. He closed his eyes and turned his face toward the water, and almost immediately saw it play out again, the spray of blood, Danny falling . . . he opened his eyes quickly, the sting of shampoo bringing him back to the present, grounding him. He finished up and dressed quickly, suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back downstairs and hold Annie and Billy.

A sliver of light was visible under the door of the nursery. He opened it quietly and looked in.

Jax looked over her shoulder at him, one hand firmly on Billy's tummy as he squirmed on the changing table.

"There are no sandwiches yet," she said, "because I have been assaulted by poop. This - it is a literal shitstorm in here, I'm not kidding. Close the door, I don't want to wake up Mary, tomorrow is her first day at her new job."

Steve slipped in the room and closed the door behind him.

"Okay, what do you need me to do?" he asked, coming to stand behind her. "Did all of that come out of him? Holy shit."

"Nothing holy about this," Jax said. She gave up on the wipes and grabbed a towel. "This is beyond - I'm just going to give him a bath."

There was an ominous squelching sound from the crib.

"I've got Annie," Steve said. "Go, deal with . . . that."

Jax carried a squirming and insulted Billy to the bathroom. She had managed to get the situation largely under control when a bewildered looking Steve appeared in the doorway. He was holding Annie, wrapped in a towel, her bare legs kicking happily.

"It's everywhere," he whispered. "It got in her hair. How did it get in her hair?"

Billy smacked tiny fists into the water, soaking Jax's shirt.

"Okay, I'm almost done with him, we'll trade," she said. She rinsed the shampoo from Billy's hair and wrapped him in a clean towel. "I'm sorry . . . after the day you had, this is . . ."

His eyes met hers in the mirror over the sink, and he smiled.

"After the day I had, this is exactly what I needed," he said. "Okay, trade. I'll get him settled in the other crib, the one is just . . . it's everywhere."

Pupule eyed them suspiciously from the doorway, watching as Jax handed Billy off to Steve and took Annie, starting the process of filling the deep sink with fresh water.

"Hey, buddy," Steve murmured, stepping over him.

Pupule craned his head up to try to see what was happening in the sink. Curiousity overcoming him, he jumped to the counter.

"You couldn't take it anymore, hunh? Had to see what the fuss has been all about," Jax murmured. "It's a baby, see? Tiny."

Pupule sniffed cautiously at Annie's toes, and then looked up at Jax in alarm when they disappeared beneath the sudsy water. He batted at the suds with a huge paw. Annie made a sound of protest as Jax dampened her hair, and Pupule's ears flipped forward.

"Mrrooww," he offered.

Jax quickly sudsed and rinsed Annie from head to toe and wrapped her in a clean towel. Pupule sniffed at her cheek and gave it a delicate lick.

"She's clean," Jax promised.

Satisfied, Pupule jumped down from the counter with a solid thump and stalked off to the kitchen. Jax carried Annie into the nursery, where Steve was bundling up the soiled sheets. She diapered and dressed Annie and tucked her into the clean crib.

"They're barely ten pounds between the two of them, how they could make such a mess boggles the mind," Steve murmured, standing behind Jax and looking down at the twins. Annie squirmed, getting her thumb into her mouth on the third try, as her eyes drifted closed. Billy gave one more enormous yawn and closed his eyes as well, turning his his instinctively toward his sister.

"Start the washer, and I'll make you that sandwich?" Jax suggested.

"Yeah," Steve said. Neither of them moved for a long moment, watching the babies.

"They're so freaking cute," Jax whispered.

"I know. You don't think they're sick, do you? With all the -" he gestured toward the pile of soiled linens.

"I don't know," Jax said. "They seem okay, they don't have fevers or anything. I think maybe it's not that unusual. I mean, people gave us a ton of onesies and extra sheets and towels, seemed to think we would need them. So probably, this happens."

"Shit happens," Steve said solemnly.

Jax snorted back a giggle. "That wouldn't be so funny if I wasn't so tired."

"Same," Steve admitted. He turned, reluctantly, and grabbed the dirty laundry. Jax followed him, padding into the kitchen and quickly putting together a sandwich while he started the washer in the laundry room. Her stomach growled and she hesitated, then made another half sandwich for herself.

She was placing the sandwiches on the kitchen island when he came into the kitchen.

"Oh, good, you're eating, too," he said, smiling at her as he collapsed onto the kitchen stool. He grabbed his sandwich and took a huge bite.

"I shouldn't, I . . ." she trailed off, glancing down at her stomach, still swollen under her damp FDNY t-shirt. She filled a glass with tap water for herself, snagged a Longboard for Steve, and put them on the island.

Steve swallowed, reached out, and gently took her wrist, tugging her to sit on the stool next to his.

"You should," he said firmly. "If you're hungry, you should eat. What is this, is this corned beef?"

"Pastrami," she said. "Grover found it, actually, this great little butcher shop. It's not a New York deli, but . . . it's not bad."

"S'delicious," he said, around a mouthful. "Ws'starving."

She grinned and took a bite of her sandwich. They munched happily, Jax's foot brushing gently back and forth against Steve's calf as her feet dangled off the kitchen stool.

"I think . . ." she wrinkled her nose, sniffing. "I think you might have . . . I smell -"

Steve glanced down at his shirt. "Um, yeah," he said. "I think - yep. She got me. Which means, sorry, but -"

He leaned back and looked at the back of Jax's shirt.

"No way," she said, craning her neck around. "Our lovely little moment, looking down at our sleeping children?"

"Yep, I transferred baby shit to the back of your shirt," he said.

"Laundry room," she said. "I don't want this smell in the hamper upstairs."

They made their way quietly to the laundry room, moving softly past the nursery and Mary's room. Steve grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it into the utility sink. He turned in time to catch Jax admiring the strong line of his shoulders and back, and grinned down at her.

"Let me help - it'll get in your hair, hold on," he murmured. He smoothed her curls against her head with one hand, and tugged gently on her shirt with his other, lifting it over her upstretched arms.

His fingers trailed gently over her collarbone until his hand came to rest on her shoulder, his thumb caressing the scar still evident from her first interaction with WoFat.

"I wanted to torture him," Steve said softly. "I wanted - God. I wanted to hurt him. Slowly. For what he did to you, to my family."

Jax shook her head. "It's not who you are, Steve. I don't want you to be that person."

"Maybe I am that person. I wanted to. I wanted to so badly, I could taste it."

"But you didn't," she said, her hands drifting over the ink on his biceps, fingers tracing the swirls of color and pattern.

"Because Joe stopped me."

Jax laughed. "You let Joe stop you. If you'd really . . . come on. Joe couldn't have stopped you, unless you let him. We both know it. You could have put Joe down hard, done what you wanted."

He nodded slowly. "Maybe. I don't know . . . if Joe hadn't been there, if it hadn't been Joe . . ."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and tucking her head under his chin.

"But he was there, and WoFat is halfway across the world, and he's not going to hurt you again," she mumbled against his chest. "That's what matters."

He tilted her head back with one hand and bent down to kiss her, his other hand curving around her waist. After a moment, she sighed and pulled away, reaching for a clean shirt in the basket on laundry on top of the dryer.

"Hey," he said, turning her face gently back to him.

"I'm all - everything's still - I look just -" she gestured helplessly.

"You look just amazing," he said.

"I look like someone who just had twins," she protested.

"Exactly. And that's amazing," he repeated. "What you did, what you sacrificed, what you're still sacrificing, to bring our babies here safely . . . you are strong, and amazing, Jax, and yeah, that is damn sexy as far as I'm concerned. Okay?"

"Yeah?" she whispered.

"Oh, hell yeah," he said. He threaded his fingers through her curls again, and she stood on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed her tenderly. He felt her breath hitch as he deepened the kiss.

A thin, reedy wail drifted across the hall.

They stopped, holding their breath.

A second cry joined the first.

"They're hungry," Jax said, smiling ruefully up at Steve. "They're both hungry."

"How is that possible?"

"They pooped everything out, now their tummies are empty," Jax said. She grabbed the discarded shirt and started pulling it on, while Steve groaned and rummaged in the basket for one of his own.

They heard the door to Mary's room open, then she was standing in the hallway, arms crossed, looking at them.

"I heard the babies, and then I saw the light in the kitchen and . . . oh my God, you were making out. In the laundry room," Mary said. "Seriously?"

"Go back to bed, Mare, we've got it," Steve said, pulling his shirt down.

"You're sure," Mary said skeptically. "You don't, like, need a minute to pull yourself together, there, stud?"

"No, seeing my sister standing in the door took care of that, thanks," Steve said. "It's like ninth grade all over again, geez." He pushed past her and headed to the kitchen.

"Six weeks," Mary said to his retreating back. "I know what the nurse said, she said six weeks."

Steve flipped her off over his shoulder and kept walking.

"Tomorrow's your first day, Mary, we've got this, seriously," Jax said. "Thanks, but go on back to bed."

"You're awfully anxious to get rid of me," Mary said. "Why does it smell funky in here?"

Jax groaned. "You have no idea. We've got it under control, Mare, I promise."

"Okay, yell if you change your mind or if you need me to come throw a bucket of water on my horn dog brother or something," Mary said. She yawned and shuffled back toward her room.

Jax found Steve in the babies' room, picking Annie up out of the crib.

"Hey, little girl, I gave your brother a bottle earlier, you want me to give you your bottle? Would that be good? I think that would be good," he murmured, tucking her tiny body securely against his chest and picking up one of the two bottles he had placed on the changing table.

Jax smiled at the sight as she collected Billy, propping him on her shoulder.

"Want to sit on the sofa with them?" Steve asked.

Jax nodded, yawning. They settled in comfortably, a tangle of limbs and pillows and babies.

"Bet when you went into BUD/s, this was the furthest thing from your mind," Jax said.

Steve nodded slowly. "Yeah, actually. A family . . . kids. Never gave it a passing thought. Until Freddie told me that he and Kelly had a baby on the way . . . in that moment, God, I knew. I knew I wanted that, someday. Then, with everything that happened . . . I put it out of my mind, you know? And then watching Danny with Gracie . . . I knew I wanted it, someday. Don't ever doubt that I wanted this, Jax."

He stroked Annie's cheek with his finger as she stared at him, eyes wide and solemn, over the edge of her bottle. Billy had finished, and Jax was burping him cautiously. He gave a satisfying belch and settled against her shoulder, sound asleep.

"I didn't know I wanted it," Jax said softly. "But now . . . I can't imagine it any other way."

Annie's bottle emptied, and Steve lifted her to his shoulder, tapping gently on her back. It took a few moments until she finally burped, and then he felt her tiny fist brush against his neck as she worked her thumb into her mouth.

"She's so cute with that thumb," he murmured, looking over at Jax.

Jax was sound asleep, her head at an awkward angle against the back of the sofa, Billy propped securely by the pillow. Steve quickly deposited Annie in the crib and came back for Billy. Jax's hands tightened around him, instinctively, as Steve lifted him out of her grasp.

"I've got him, ku'uipo," Steve murmured. She sighed and relaxed her hands, listing sideways on the sofa.

He tucked Billy in with Annie, covering them with a light blanket and turning on the nightlight before he closed their door quietly and returned to the living room. Jax was half sitting, half lying on the sofa.

"Hey," he whispered, taking her hands in his. "Let's go to bed."

"'M'already a'seep," she mumbled.

He slipped one hand behind her knees and the other behind her shoulders, lifting her easily. Her head lolled against his shoulder and she sighed in contentment. Pupule appeared, soundlessly for a change, and shadowed them up the stairs. He circled twice in his bed and settled with a flump, flicking his tail over his face. Steve nudged the bedroom door open with his elbow and closed it with his foot, still holding Jax in his arms.

She woke, momentarily confused, as he deposited her in their bed.

"I was going to make you a sandwich," she said. "When you got home. Because you had a bad day. Danny. Danny's okay?"

"Shhh, Danny's fine and you made me a sandwich," he said, pulling the covers up and slipping into the bed beside her. "Babies have been fed - twice - and they're sound asleep. So are you, really."

She curled toward him, resting her head on his shoulder and slipping her arm across him.

"You don't want your big pillow?" he murmured.

"'S'is better," she sighed.

Steve grinned in satisfaction and wondered, briefly, if he should wait until Danny was feeling better, or if it would be okay to go ahead and torment him by mentioning that Jax had abandoned the hateful giant body pillow, but before he could decide, he was fast asleep as well.

#*#*#*#*#

Max shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but there's no question about it. The fatal shot was from Kono's rifle."

Gracie looked up at her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Why was Gracie in autopsy? This was wrong . . . they should never have let Gracie into autopsy, it was no place for a child, especially with her father on the table. Blood dripped onto the floor.

Danny's blood. It was on her hands, too. Danny's blood was on her hands.

"Kono. Kono, shhh, you're okay," Brian murmured, over and over again, holding Kono against his chest and rocking her gently. "Danny's fine, he's home with Rachel. It was a dream."

Kono sobbed, soaking his t-shirt.

"There you go," he said, rubbing her back.

"I thought I'd killed Danny," she sobbed.

"In your dream?"

"No. Today, when I took the shot . . . they both fell. He fell on top of Danny, and there was so much blood, and I thought I'd missed. I thought I'd killed Danny," she gasped.

"I know, I know you did, but that's not what happened," he said. "You didn't even graze Danny. It was a good shot, and you very likely saved at least Danny's life, and possibly Steve's, and the agent's. You made the right call, and you made the shot."

She nodded, her hands fisting in his t-shirt. "I'm sorry."

"Shhh, don't apologize," he said. "It's normal for something like that to shake you up."

"Thank you for being here tonight. I know I wasn't very good -"

"You were exactly what you needed to be tonight, Kono, which was someone who needed some time and space to decompress after a hell of a day," he said. He smoothed her hair with his hand until she stopped shaking. She wiped at her eyes, and he reached over to the night table and grabbed a water bottle and offered it to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip.

"You're welcome," he said, smiling at her. "Think you can get back to sleep?"

She shrugged. "Maybe?"

He shifted back down into the bed and held his arms open to her in invitation. She snuggled against him, her long limbs tangling with his. He could still feel the tension in her body.

"How about a story?" he suggested.

"A bedtime story," she said. "Okay, can't hurt."

He cleared his throat. "Once upon a time, there was a devilishly handsome cowboy who found himself assigned to a herd on an exotic island. While on the island, he met a beautiful . . . hmm. Not a princess . . . a beautiful sheriff."

Kono snorted.

"She was a good sheriff, brave and strong. The cowboy's job was to protect his herd, in fact, he had to cast many spells to make them invisible. But the sheriff, she protected her herd by putting bad people away. The cowboy was very, very impressed with the sheriff. So impressed, that he turned down a much bigger herd on the mainland, so he could stay with his beautiful sheriff."

Kono tilted her head up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

"One day, the cowboy realized . . . that as strong and brave as the sheriff was - and always would be - sometimes, she needed the cowboy to chase away bad dreams. And he thought . . . this business of living on separate ranches . . . this makes it harder to chase away the bad dreams."

Kono's breath caught.

"In fact, the cowboy knew that sometimes, he needed the sheriff to chase away his bad dreams, and what if, when he had a bad dream, they were each on their own ranch, instead of together? Would he send a telegraph? How would that help? So the cowboy thought . . . maybe, if he could convince the sheriff . . . maybe they could share a ranch. And chase away each other's bad dreams."

Kono sat up, turning in bed to face Brian.

"Are you . . . are you asking me to move in with you?" she whispered.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard.

"I'm asking . . . if you would consider living together. My place, your place . . . a different place. No pressure. But . . . yeah. I'd like to always, always be here if you have a bad dream. Or a good dream, or -"

Kono cut him off with a kiss, tossing one slim leg over his lap and twining her arms around his neck.

"That a yes?" he mumbled, tangling his hands in her thick hair.

"It's an I'll consider it, I'll seriously consider it," she said.

"Okay," he said. "Can I attempt to be even more convincing?"

"Go for it, cowboy."

#*#*#*#*#