AN:

I am totally obsessed with Robin Thicke's new song Pretty Little Heart, which spawned this wonderful little chapter. I know it's late but does anybody think Danny's ex-wife is an uber terd? He can't follow her around the whole world! Thank you for the reviews-hands out cookies.

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Pretty Little Heart

Max Bergman was aware that he was not handsome. Well at least not the way he would prefer. He wasn't tall, he was a little soft in the middle, and he possessed average features. No he was not terribly handsome, more like adorable-as the majority of people he had known stated with annoying enthusiasm.

He was not gorgeous like Steve. The commander was beautiful. He was tall with a body sculpted to its peak and piercing blue eyes sitting within a face that could shame angels. He still could not comprehend why his commander chose to nurture a romantic relationship with him—Max deemed it some sort of windfall. Sometimes he pondered if they were together because Steve had some kind of passing fascination with him. Maybe he would get bored of him one day.

All of these thoughts fluttered though his ever-roaming mind as he gazed through the glass door of Steve's office. A woman sat in the office, conversing animatedly with Steve. The first thing he noticed was that she was strikingly attractive. The second thing was their proximity. The scene would have not been so bad if the commander rejected her attempts at flirtation or the small hands that kept touching him.

"Who is she?" He asked Danny when the blond stood next to him—he supposed detectives were naturally nosy.

Danny stared at her for a moment, trying to place her face. "It's not Catherine, so I have no idea."

"She's very…attractive," he observed clinically.

"Yeah." Danny blatantly checked her out before realizing he was not helping to ease Max's insecurities. "But she's probably psycho. You know, like one of those that'll slash your tires or key your car if you break up with her."

Max shot Danny an annoyed glance before entering the office. "Here are the reports you requested." He swallowed when those mesmerizing aquamarine eyes speared him and he almost smiled when Steve moved away from the woman.

"Thanks."

A shiver ran up his spine when Steve's fingers brushed his. "You're welcome."

"Oh, Max this is Regina. Regina this is our M-E Max."

Sometimes Max wished that Steve lacked a complete sense of politeness. He really did not want to meet her…or touch her hand. Reluctantly he reached out, and took the hand she extended giving it a shake. "Hello," he greeted politely.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you."

He inwardly frowned in bemusement when she gave him a full once-over. Did she-? Did she just size him up? He released her hand, noticing the catty glint in her emerald eyes. She was! The shrew was sizing him up for competition. "Hm." He turned promptly and exited the office, a dark cloud hanging over his head.

The following days were…trying. Their cases were scarce and quickly solved, his goldfish died, and his roommate broke his favorite coffee mug. There was also another problem. What was it? Tap…tap…tap. Ah yes, Regina still lingered.

He had become accustomed to both genders flirting with Steve. It was an inevitability to which he had resigned himself. Usually, the random flirting of strangers warranted nothing from him but mild annoyance. But this…thing with Regina was different.

Steve and Regina had a history. Both were insanely active health nuts that enjoyed hiking—and getting eaten alive by insects. Regina could surf. Regina preferred action films instead of science fiction or documentaries about whales. Oh and not to mention that the two had been spending dinner together to 'reminisce.' And—AND he was a celibate monk now, because he hadn't had sex in four days. Nooo, Steve was too busy telling him Regina's life story—after which he lost his mood.

Max growled using sheers to slice through the ribs on the lateral sides of the corpse's chest cavity.

"Whoa, Max you do know he's already dead," Danny stated at the examiner's harsh treatment of the corpse.

He looked up to regard the blond with a piercing gaze. "Is there a reason you are here Detective Williams?" He asked tersely. He removed the chest cavity, revealing the internal organs.

Thrown by the uncharacteristic emotions strangling the doctor's usually impassive voice the blond observed him with insightful sea-blue eyes. "Um yeah…have you determined the C-O-D? I mean you said the gunshot wound was postmortem."

"Not yet." He did not want any company and hoped his response would prompt Danny to return to his office. His wishes did not go answered.

Danny remained, considering him with a perceptive gaze.

He ignored the detective, hoping he would leave. Unfortunately, Detective Williams' tenacity reared its irritating head. He continued to work, his seething anger eventually fleeing him and leaving a wearying weight upon his heart. "Yes Detective Williams?"

Danny advanced a little closer to him, avoiding the corpse. "You okay Max?"

The genuine concern in the man's voice touched his heart. He raised his gaze to the man and opened his mouth to answer. What was he going to say? 'I am fine?' That would be a blatant lie. No, he was not fine. He was afraid he was losing Steve. "I need to commence with the internal autopsy, unless you wish to observe."

Danny eyed him once more before departing.

Max let out a sigh, thankful for being alone. Why did he take the chance? He had been quite happy being single with only his beloved Star Trek and fossil collection to enrich his life. Then along came Steve McGarrett and Max had forgotten all about the unnecessary complications of romantic relationships. Confound those bewitching aquamarine eyes.

Max exited HQ squinting under the glare of the evening sun. He yawned, stretching a little, and stopped short. Steve stood alone in the parking lot, leaning against his truck. He raised an eyebrow and approached the truck and its owner.

"Hey Max…" Steve greeted, looking as if he wanted to discuss something.

"Yes?" Max did not want to talk. He was weary and all he wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, and curl up in misery. With a roll of his eyes he decided not to allow Steve to elaborate. He rounded the truck purposefully, opened the passenger door, and climbed into it, shutting the door.

Steve climbed in, settling into the driver's seat. "Max, babe we need to talk."

Max heaved a sigh. "Can you not talk and drive?" He said voice absolutely frigid. What? He couldn't help if his tongue was tart. He had a hard week being ignored by his boyfriend and all.

Steve regarded him critically, eyebrow raised before cranking the truck and pulling into traffic.

They rode in silence, though Max noticed the sideways glances Steve kept shooting him. Let him look. He was not starting the conversation this time.

"Max."

"Steve. You've said my name three times already."

Steve braked at a traffic light, squeezing the steering wheel. "You're not going to make this easy are you?"

He cast his gaze to the brunet. "Should I?" He was very well aware of how much Steve disliked discussing his feelings-the man would rather jump in a shark tank. But, he had been hurting all week.

Silence reigned in the truck.

He drew his attention away from the window and its scenery when Steve turned up the radio. Seriously? The distinctive rasp of Lil' Wayne flooded the cab.

This is for the lovers and the sexy mother, mothers,

Love is in the air I pray to God I do not suffer.

Max tilted his head, thinking. He remembered this song, but he couldn't place its name—of course it had been playing in the background while Steve had been pounding him like a bass drum. He regarded his lover when he grasped his hand.

Baby you got me,

Don't worry your pretty little heart,

I said,

Baby you got me,

Don't worry your pretty little heart.

The meaningful expression in Steve's eyes during the chorus touched his heart. Then it dawned on him. Steve was telling him not to worry because he already had him hooked.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, baby."

Max felt himself melt at the softness swimming in those aquamarine depths. Why was he such a sucker for those damned blues? He gave a small sigh, acknowledging the shattered state of his resolve. He pursed his lips and gave his love a smile, lacing their fingers together. The hint of a bashful grin crossed his mouth when Steve gave him a wink.

Awww. Steve can be so sweet. I hope you enjoyed it and if you do *holds up a sign* Review Please.

Ciao ^-*