Steve opened his eyes and hit the end button on the DVD player before realizing he'd slept for several hours. He rubbed at his head and winced when he sat up and was quickly reminded of the reason Hong had prescribed thee pain meds. He looked for the bottle, but they were nowhere in sight and he silently moaned when he remembered leaving them in his office. Even if he wanted to drive to HQ to get them, he couldn't because Danny had driven him here. He'd called Keanna and told her he wasn't much company and asked for a rain check on her cooking dinner for him. It took some convincing, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't show up at his door.
"Hey, Steve, you awake?"
"Where the hell did you come from?" McGarrett asked of the man carrying the pizza box.
"I told you I'd come back and bring dinner. Pizza for me...soup for you. Although back home we'd call this chicken stew. Smells good and there's no pineapple in it," Williams said and handed the injured man a plastic bowl and spoon. "Oh, and these won't do you any good if you leave them at the office."
"Believe me, I didn't mean to," McGarrett told him and fumbled with the cap.
"Here, let me get it. Is the headache that bad?"
"Headache is just part of it, Danny. I think someone hit me with a bus," the head of Five-O answered honestly.
"A bus named Jacobs. Why don't you take one of those, eat your soup and go to bed."
"Danny..."
"Look, Steve, I know you want to be at the office, and to be honest I can't blame you so as of tomorrow I'll gladly be your chauffeur as long as you take it easy and rest when you need to."
"I don't need a mother hen, Danny," McGarrett said, chuckling softly when Williams looked down at his chest and held both hands out to the side, palms up.
"No, still not a woman, so impossible for me to be a mother hen," the Jersey native joked.
"Thanks, Danny," McGarrett said and popped one of the ills into his mouth. He lifted the lid of the soup container and heard his stomach rumble appreciatively. "Smells good."
"Kamekona said to tell you it's an old family recipe," Williams said. He watched his partner eat the soup and reached for a piece of pizza. "Steve, I know you don't like David, but I trust him with my life. He's good at his job and knows how to make people talk."
"I saw that today."
"What does that mean?"
"I was there when you and O'Brien were interrogating Fugata," McGarrett said and closed his eyes before setting the carton of soup on the table.
"Then you know he can do the job."
"I know you seemed okay with his method of questioning Fugata."
"Steve..."
"Look, Danny, I'm tired and my head's killing me. I'm going to do what you say for a change so let yourself out when you're done," McGarrett said and made his way toward his room. He knew he should stay and talk it through, but the memory of what he'd read in the file was making it impossible for him to think clearly. He didn't want to accuse Danny of being dirty, but right now the evidence seemed pretty damning. He needed to do a little more digging before he could talk to Danny and find out exactly what happened in Newark, and maybe save the lives of the women who were missing in his city.
Danny could only watch as McGarrett made a hasty retreat. He wanted to confront him and get this out in the open, but his own anger was bubbling to the surface once more. Steve had seen something he read wrong, but that wasn't what bothered Williams. It was the fact that his partner had spied on him, and that was something he didn't want to talk about while he was pissed. He closed the pizza box and headed for the door, intent on leaving McGarrett to his own self righteous anger.
Steve lay down on the bed and closed his eyes while toeing off his shoes. He wanted nothing more than to let the pill take effect and sleep through the night, but he didn't think that was possible as his mind whirled with infinite possibilities that could only end badly. There was no way in hell, Danny Williams was dirty and he would pull out all stops to prove that.
5050505050
Danny drove away from McGarrett's house and headed for O'Brien's place, the anger slowly dissipating when he realized McGarrett had not been spying on him. Sure, he'd been there when he and David were questioning Fugata, but he hadn't done it intentionally. It was more likely that Steve had shown up just in time to see and hear part of the interrogation and jumped to the wrong conclusion. David wasn't like Steve, he didn't have to show his hostility by blowing up everything and everyone around him.
'Who would you rather have at your back?'
The words came from nowhere and Danny knew the answer, cursing himself when he automatically thought of McGarrett. Steve may do unorthodox things to get his way, but nine times out of ten it had the desired effect. He slammed his right hand on the steering wheel and headed for his home, intent on letting a couple of cold beers wash away the remaining anger.
5050505050
Steve awoke with a start and sat forward as cramps shot through his stomach. The aching pain from earlier had returned with a vengeance and he knew he was going to be sick. He slid his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his face in his hands. He lifted his head, shaking with the effort it took just to stay upright and knew he had to get to the bathroom.
Fighting the nausea and dizziness, Steve managed to get to his feet, but had to grab at the night table when his legs felt ready to give out. He swallowed convulsively, blinking several times when the room seemed to swim in and out of focus. He struggled to get his feet to move, but it seemed a lesson in futility when the world tilted on its axis and he wound up on his knees. The nausea intensified and he crawled toward the door that led to his salvation.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and streamed down his cheeks as his heart beat a staccato rhythm in his chest. The roar in his ears grew worse and he tried to ignore the weakness invading his body. He clenched his eyes tightly, opening them long enough to find out how far he was from his destination and made a desperate lurching stride that covered the last few feet.
Once inside, Steve dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and felt what little was in his stomach. The pain didn't ease even when the violent puking turned into dry heaves that left him too weak to even think about going back to bed. He managed to snag the navy blue washcloth and climbed to his knees long enough to wet it with water from the before flushing the toilet. He sat on the floor and leaned back against the cabinet while washing the cloth over his face.
Steve closed his eyes and wondered if he should call someone, but that would just worry them and he'd had concussions often enough to know that was probably what was causing the nausea and dizziness. Why worry the others when there was nothing to worry about? He stayed where he was until the nausea stopped and slowly made his way to his feet.
McGarrett knew he was being stubborn as he ignored the aches and pains each step caused and finally made it to his bed. He didn't remember bringing the medication into the room with him, but was relieved to find he bottle of pills Hong prescribed on the night table. He fumbled with the lid several times before finally popping it off and reaching inside for one of the pain killers.
Steve looked at the pill and the warm bottle of water, debating whether he had the energy needed to get a fresh bottle. He took a deep breath and stood up, but dropped heavily back to the bed. He stubbornly tried again with the same result and reluctantly reached for the room temperature water. He popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed it with what was left in the bottle and lay back against the pillows.
Sleep beckoned to him, but not before the nauseating cramps struck again and he leaned over the edge of the bed. He swallowed convulsively in an effort to keep from losing what little water he drank. He cried out and doubled over, falling from the bed as he grabbed his stomach and gave in to the wall of darkness that descended over him.
5050505050
O'Brien knew he needed to keep a low profile where the rest of Five-O was concerned, but not when it came to Danny Williams. The man had been his partner far too long for him to be suspicious of him. Danny had left Newark before anyone even thought to look their way.
Danny, now there was a smart man, but he'd let friendship cloud his vision and blind him to what his partner was up to. When Williams had transferred out of Newark and David was given a new partner, it had been harder to hide what he was doing on the side. His new partner had died under a cloud that pointed to him being on the take, and David had taken the opportunity to wipe his own slate clean and put in for a transfer.
When Hawaii had shown up on his radar he'd jumped at the chance and saw a way to cover his tracks in Newark, while opening a whole new side of things in the paradise state. He'd never been a man who was happy with the chain of command and had jumped more than a few hurdles to get where he was. Five-O gave him the perfect opportunity to continue what he started, and the bonus was that Danny Williams was part of the task force. It would be a fairly simple matter to work his way into the high position once McGarrett was out of the way.
That was another problem altogether. Steve McGarrett was a smart man and well known to the people he worked with. The governor had personally chosen him to head Five-O, and he knew he needed to endear himself to the woman if he wanted to take over once the SEAL was taken care of. He needed to make sure Jacobs didn't talk once everything was said and done. There was no way in hell he would trust a man like Jacobs and when the time came he just might be the man who took the fall for McGarrett's death.
He drove out of the city and found the house where the girls were being held. He parked his car and knew it was the perfect time to rid himself of some pent up emotions. He didn't bother knocking, just pushed open the side door and stepped inside to find Howard sitting at the table with an open book in his hand.
"I wasn't expecting you tonight," Howard told him.
"I know...how are things going?"
"The training is going very well. Nothing like hands on when it comes to teaching them how to properly entertain a man," Howard said with a grin.
"Just as long as you don't mark them. My client pays well for unblemished flesh," O'Brien told him.
"There won't be any marks...at least not physical ones you can see. Their minds are another story entirely," Howard assured him.
"That's fine...their minds are not what my client is interested in. I want the McMillan woman."
"She's in her room," Howard said and watched as his boss made his way through the door. Sandra McMillan was proving to be a stubborn woman, but he certainly enjoyed teaching her some manners and knew O'Brien would enjoy taking what he wanted before leaving at dawn.
5050505050
Keanna Wahine smiled as she reached McGarrett's home and knocked on the door. She woke early and mixed a batch of her favorite muffins, a recipe handed down from her great-grandmother. They were nestled in the basket she carried and were still warm as she knocked for the second time. She wondered if he was still sleeping, but heard movement behind the door and smiled when it opened, the smile quickly turned into a frown when she saw the man standing there.
"Steve," she said and placed the basket of muffins on the floor before reaching for him. His face was so pale he reminded her of a ghost, his eyes rimmed with dark semi circles, his mouth set in a thin line that spoke of pain. "Why didn't you call for help?"
"I'm okay, Keanna, just didn't sleep very well." McGarrett told her. He leaned on her as she helped him into the living room and eased him down on the sofa.
"I'm going to take you to the..."
"No, you're not. I'm fine, Keanna, just need to eat something and get some sleep."
"Eating I can help with. Stay put!" Wahine ordered and retrieved the basket of muffins before pouring a glass of orange juice and returning to find McGarrett shivering on the couch She touched his forehead, relieved to find it cool to the touch before handing him the glass of juice. She watched him take several sips before placing the glass on the side table.
"Thanks, Keanna."
"You're welcome, now how about a muffin?"
"Sounds good," McGarrett said and ran his fingers through his hair. He'd woken up on the floor around four and climbed into bed, but his dreams were filled with nightmarish images that left him exhausted. He took the muffin and ate it without tasting it as Keanna did the same with hers.
"You really should go back to the hospital and get checked over," Wahine said.
"Don't need to...got my own doc right here," McGarrett said.
"Yes, well your doc says you need to go back to bed."
"Only if she joins me," McGarrett said.
"She would, but right now I doubt you could handle me, Commander."
"Oh, I don't know about that," the SEAL said and pulled her close. He pressed his lips to hers and drank in the intoxicating scent he'd come to associate with her.
"Okay, so you could handle me, but I don't think it's in your best interest to do so right now," Keanna said breathlessly.
"Oh, I don't know..."
"I do. Eat, drink, and sleep. Those are your orders for today, Commander and since I don't have to work today I'll make sure you get plenty of all three," Wahine said and passed him a second muffin. "Eat!"
"Yes, ma'am," McGarrett said with a hint of a smile that didn't quite take away the near translucent caste of his skin, but let her know that it wasn't as bad as she first thought. He waited until she broke off a piece and opened his mouth, enjoying the intimate touch as her fingers ran across his lips. "I hope your other patients don't get the same kind of house calls."
"Not even close, besides you're not my patient or I wouldn't be able to do this," Keanna said and kissed him while running her free hand down his taut chest.
"God, woman, you keep doing that and I'm going to have to..."
"Sh, more eating...less talking."
"Bossy woman aren't you?"
"Only when it comes to you," Keanna whispered and popped another piece of muffin into his mouth before he could say anything else.
"Hey, Steve, I brought...oh," Williams said, surprised to see Keanna Wahine on the sofa next to his partner. "Good morning...hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"You are...go away," McGarrett said.
"Steve!" Wahine said.
"What...he is...interrupting I mean."
"There's gratitude for you," Williams said. "I bring breakfast and a snarky comment...what did you get, Keanna?"
"None of your business, Danny," McGarrett said and accepted more of the muffin, although he wasn't really sure if it would stay put as the nausea returned with a vengeance.
"Steve, are you all right?" Wahine asked worriedly.
"I'm fine...be right back," McGarrett said and stood on shaky leg before stumbling toward the bathroom. He could hear Danny and Keanna talking, but it took every ounce of strength he had to get to the door, step inside and lock it before he was violently sick. His gut cramped and he could hear raised voices, but he couldn't answer while trying to catch his breath between gasping heaves.
"Steve, open the damn door!" Williams called and hit it several times.
"Steve, please, just open the door," Keanna's voice was filled with worry as something thumped against the door.
Steve finally managed to get his rebellious stomach under control, but he leaned his head on his arms before getting back to his feet and unlocking the door. He smiled sheepishly at the two worried people who nearly fell through the door. "Sorry, be right out," he managed and grabbed a cloth to wash his face with.
"Steve, have you been able to keep anything down?" Wahine asked seriously.
"Had some soup last night...thanks, Danny," McGarrett said.
"I'd say you're welcome, but you didn't eat very much of that," Williams said.
"I ate some and it stayed put. Look, Keanna..."
"Steve, maybe we should go to the ER and have yo checked out," the woman said, her arms folded across her chest as she checked him over.
"There's no need for that, Keanna, I've had concussions before and that's all it is," McGarrett said and made his way back to the living room sofa.
"Steve..."
"Look, Danny, I know you, Chin, and Kono are working on a case and you really should get to the office, so thanks for the food," McGarrett snapped.
"You forgot to say David," Williams said, feeling the anger surging to the surface again at McGarrett's lack of conceding they had a new member of the task force.
"I didn't forget, Danny," McGarrett said and closed his eyes tiredly. His nerves were on edge and he felt warmer than was comfortable, and he didn't feel like talking. He heard Williams leave and felt Keanna sit next to him and touch her fingers against his face. "I'm okay, Keanna, just tired."
"Sure you are, but at lest we can do something about you feeling tired. Come on and I'll tuck you in."
"Will you join me?"
"I think you're hot enough without sharing body heat," Wahine said and pulled him to his feet. "You know you were a little hard on him."
"I know...I'll apologize later, but there's something about David O'Brien that just doesn't feel right," McGarrett said, relieved when his legs came up against the bed and he sat down.
"Lie down, Steve," Wahine ordered and covered him to his waist with the sheet. She brushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. "I'm going to make some soup...any preference?"
"Chicken...lots of veggies and pasta," McGarrett answered and rubbed at his head.
"Where are your pills?" Keanna asked, and spotted them on the night table. She placed one in her hand then opened the bottle of water. "Here, take this."
"Thanks, Keanna," McGarrett said and gratefully swallowed the pills, hoping they'd stop the headache before his head exploded.
Author's Note—-Thanks again for the wonderful reviews and alerts. You guys make my day...Winnie