Disclaimer: See initial chapter.

A/N: I started this before the new school year started, and finished it tonight, the weekend after my break started. It is, more than likely, completely ridiculous. I know that, in all likelihood, Danny would not be allowed to keep a Hawaiian Monk Seal and care for it, but, because this is fiction, and the reality is that there is a need for more volunteers, I am going to write it as though Danny's fostering the monk seal. I got information from websites for the Marine Mammal Center, NOAA, Kauai Monk Seal, and Monachus Guardian. I apologize for summarizing portions of this, but I hope that the bits I chose to summarize, rather than drag out in uber detail are alright, and the portions that I chose to focus more detail on make sense.

I've changed the events of Danny's knee injury.

Reminder, this is AU.

"No, absolutely not," Danny said, actually putting his foot down, and pointing toward the ocean, where the animal in question should be rather than perched out in the salt water kiddie pool that Danny and Grace had set up for the waterfowl members of the family.

Steve sighed, heavily and made that little whining noise that made Mother Goose, her three offspring in tow, come to his side immediately, no matter where she was, or what she was doing at the time. Danny knew that he'd be in for an earful of squawking chitters that would make the hair on the back of his arms stand up, but this time Steve had crossed a line, and Danny couldn't let him keep his newest baby animal, no matter how cute it was, or how pathetically lonely it looked sitting in the kiddie pool.

"Steve." Danny knelt on the ground, ignoring the way that his knee twinged painfully with the movement, and pressed his forehead against the dog's, so he could look the dog in the eye. "We can't keep him, or her. It's against the law. We'll have all sorts of animal rights groups that support the ESA (Endangered Species Act) and the MMPA (Marine Mammal Protection Act) on our backs, and I don't think I can afford the fines."

Steve sighed again, and his eyes moved toward the Hawaiian monk seal pup in question. It was sitting in the salt water pool, oblivious to the conversation that was taking place beside it. How Steve had managed to get the pup into the pool was a mystery to Danny, but Danny had learned not to question how Steve did what he did. There was no point, because the dog was not giving up his secrets anytime soon, and Danny was no Doctor Doolittle.

"Why can't you bring normal pets home for a change? Like kittens, and...what am I saying?" Danny asked, instantly regretting his words, because they did not need anymore pets, kittens or otherwise.

The animals already outnumbered the humans in Danny's home, and there was a very real danger that the house was going to be overrun by them, especially if Steve kept up with the heartfelt adoptions. There were days when Danny seriously thought about quitting the police force and opening a petting zoo in his home. He'd probably make a killing if he did. All that he'd need was for Steve to adopt a couple of goats, maybe some kittens, and a pig or two, and he'd be all set.

"C'mon, let's go find its mama, and return it back to the wild, where it belongs," Danny said, wincing as his knee popped when he stood. His back cracked when he stretched, and Danny tried not to stumble as he took a step toward the beach. It had been a long day.

Steve was right there beside him, helping to keep Danny upright as his knee threatened to give out. He should have never taken all of those stairs today. The elevator trip would've been short, and painless. Meka and Kono had made it up without harm even though the elevator had looked old and rickety, and like it could break down if someone breathed on it.

The stairs hadn't been much better, but Danny had not wanted to risk being trapped inside of the small space of the elevator in case it broke down. He didn't need anyone at HPD to have any more ammunition against him, and if it became common knowledge that Danny was claustrophobic...he'd never hear the end of it. Not that Meka or Kono would say anything, but it was better safe than sorry.

Now his knee was not so kindly reminding him that elevators were a very handy invention, and that they rarely broke down. His old sports injury could not have worse timing for cropping up again. He couldn't really afford to take time off with the murder case that he, Meka, and their rookie, Kono, were working on.

The short walk down to the beach took far longer than it should have, and Danny was thankful that Steve was as big as he was, and that he could rest his hand against the dog's head for leverage. He'd have to rest, and ice, his knee later.

The short trek along the beach revealed the grisly reason why Steve had brought the pup home with him, the how irrelevant in the gruesome picture of the pup's mother's tragic death. Danny was grateful that Grace was working on a school project at a friend's house. She didn't need to see something like this.

Steve paced uneasily between Danny and the dead monk seal, clearly distressed over her death. If Danny had to make a guess at how she'd died, he'd wager that she'd come into lethal contact with the propeller of a large boat. The fact that her pup had survived, and that Steve had somehow managed to rescue it, was fortuitous, and nothing short of a miracle of sorts. Of course, it also meant that Steve had 'escaped' the house, yet again, and, because the door leading out the lanai hadn't been opened, that meant Steve had used one of the windows. Danny would have to replace the window screen. Again.

Windows, and doors, meant nothing to the bull mastiff. When he wanted out, he got out. Danny was thankful that his neighbors didn't seem to mind the large dog roaming the neighborhood on the days that Steve saw fit to leave the house while Danny and Grace were out. As a matter of fact, many of Danny's elderly neighbors even gave Steve snacks during his afternoon escapades.

Danny even had it on good authority that the dog had frightened away would-be robbers on at least one occasion, maybe more. Mr. and Mrs. Akau were still bringing over humongous rawhide bones to Steve as thanks for scaring off the thieves, who had been caught by the police several days later.

The duo had been preying on neighborhoods with high populations of elderly homeowners, and had been getting away with their robberies in other neighborhoods until Steve stopped them. He'd managed to bite one of the young men, in the ass.

Danny had found a piece of the torn cloth in his backyard where Steve was planning on burying it. There had been blood on the cloth, and it had been traced to one of the robbers, who had then given up his accomplice. Danny hadn't even had to break much of a sweat during interrogation.

Danny could still remember Steve's first breakout like it had been yesterday, though it had happened a good five months ago, and it had become a regular, weekly occurrence since then. Sometimes Steve appeared to have an agenda, like today's rescue, but other times, he would just wander the neighborhood. Danny's neighbors told him that it seemed as though the big dog was in search of something, or someone.

That first time, though, had left Danny in a panic. He'd come home from a grueling day at work to find the kitchen a mess of feathers and loud squawking (the ducklings had missed their canine daddy), and the window, which was located above the sink, had been nosed open, the screen, and Steve, were both missing.

It didn't take a genius, or heavy detective work, for Danny to figure out what had happened. There were large paw prints on the kitchen sink, and the missing screen was lying in a nearby hibiscus bush, completely ruined.

Danny's panic at not immediately finding Steve, after having discovered the bit of bloodied cloth lying on his lanai, was thankfully short lived as the Akaus brought the dog over immediately.

Steve, knowing that he'd be in trouble for breaking out of the house, had approached Danny with head down, and tail tucked between his legs, body waggling like his tail would be if it was free to do so, and if he wasn't in fear of being scolded for what he'd done.

The Akaus had beat Danny to the punch though, praising Steve up and down for what he'd done, and how he'd come to their rescue when those boys had tried to break into their home. The robbery, as was often the case when the people were home, could very well have ended in homicide.

Danny had forgiven Steve for his transgression, and had dutifully replaced the screen on the kitchen window, and explained, in more detail than he should have, given that Steve was a dog, why doors, and not windows, were used as exits. The next time that Steve had left the house while Danny and Grace were gone, Steve had somehow worked the door leading out to the lanai open, proving that he was, indeed, smarter than the average dog, and more of a headache because of that.

"Poor girl." Danny laid a hand on the dead monk seal, and Steve nosed at Danny's hand until Danny transferred his attention from the dead seal to him. Steve looked at Danny and woofed, and then he looked down at the dead seal, and woofed again, clearly communicating to Danny that he needed to fix this.

"I'm sorry, buddy, there's nothing I can do for her," Danny said, scratching behind Steve's ears. "She's dead."

Steve whined, and nosed at the seal, as though trying to prod her awake. He pawed at her as well, only giving up when Danny pulled Steve toward him and hugged him around the neck.

His knee throbbed, and Danny knew that he'd have to go to the doctor about it, take time off of work, though he really didn't want to. As painful, and damaging, as it was to kneel in the wet sand beside Steve and the dead seal, Danny wasn't about to move just yet, not when Steve needed him.

"I know, buddy," Danny said. "I'm sure you did everything you could for her, but you can't save everyone."

There was no doubt in Danny's mind that Steve had found the seal either shortly before, or just after, she'd died, and that the dog had probably spent a good amount of time with her, trying to help her in his own doggy way. It broke his heart thinking about Steve attempting, in vain, to stop death from taking the seal, or sitting with the dead seal, attempting to wake her, or bring her back to life, which, after he'd gotten her pup to safety, he might have been doing right up until Danny got home.

"You did good, Steve," Danny praised, rubbing the dog's neck just beneath his collar, and smiling when Steve groaned in pleasure. "You saved her pup, and I know that you probably can't understand a single word that I'm saying right now, but I'm proud of you, buddy."

Steve licked Danny's cheek, and ignoring Danny's, "Eww, stop that," started licking the rest of Danny's face, body and tail waggling in spite of the somberness of the situation. Steve had had all day to come to grips with the seal's death, but had only accepted that she was beyond help after Danny had declared it to be so.

"You're such an animal," Danny chided, and shook his head. Steve sat back on his haunches, tongue lolling, and regarded Danny with a look that was way too serious for a dog.

"He is an animal," a voice came from out of nowhere and startled Danny.

Steve, instantly on alert, hackles raised, growled low in his throat, and turned to face the possible threat. Danny's fingers tightened in the dog's fur, and he reached for his service weapon, fingers catching on his waistband as he remembered that he was off-duty and it wasn't there.

The man stepped out of the hibiscus bushes that lined Mrs. Carey's backyard, but stopped a few feet away from Danny and Steve, hands held out in front of him when he heard Steve growl. He didn't look like a threat, but Danny knew that looks could be deceiving.

The man was tall, and gaunt, his cheeks hollow and covered in three day's worth (at least) of beard. Danny was willing to bet that if he hadn't been kneeling next to a dead monk seal, he'd have smelled the man, even from a few feet away.

His clothes were dirty and torn, he had no shoes, or slippers, and he was much too pale. His eyes, the deepest blue that Danny had ever seen, were sharp and focused, and Danny read a guarded intelligence in them.

While the man was doing his best to put Danny, and Steve, at ease, Danny got the feeling that, if he wanted to, the man could snap his neck without breaking a sweat. He had ex-military written all over him. Maybe even special forces.

"You know he's a dog, right?" the man said, a touch of humor in his voice as he nodded toward Steve who had stopped growling, but was still on high alert, body poised to attack should he need to protect Danny.

Danny bristled at the tone of the man's voice, but took a deep breath through his mouth, because the dead seal really stunk, and said, "Do I know he's a dog?" Danny looked from Steve to the man and back again, mouth quirking upward in a soft smile.

"Of course I know he's a dog, but Steve understands what I'm saying, don't you, Steve?" Danny maintained eye contact with the dog, and, though he noticed that the man flinched, and stiffened, Danny did his best to ignore the reactions. It was clear that the man was skittish, and Danny didn't want to set the man on edge, or make him uncomfortable.

Steve let out a soft woof and licked Danny on the nose. "Nice, Steve, real nice."

"What kind of name is Steve?" the man asked.

Danny glanced at the man. He was crouched in the sand now, elbows resting on his knees. His blue eyes were filled with mild curiosity, and wariness. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the t shirt that he wore was loose on him, his cargo pants were loose, too, held on his thin frame by a thick rope.

"Anglo Saxon? Latin? Greek?" Danny shrugged. He scratched Steve behind the ears, and smiled when the dog sighed happily. "I haven't really given his name much thought," Danny said, purposefully misunderstanding the man's question. "A rose by any other name, and all that, you know?"

The man laughed. A rough, grating sound. He ran a hand through his oily hair, and Danny tried not to be distracted by the flakes of dirt and unidentifiable bits and pieces that fell out of the man's unkempt hair, which, when he'd finished running his hands through it, flopped over his forehead and into his left eye. The man blew at the hair in his eye, but it remained uncooperative. Danny got the impression that the man was not used to having his hair that long.

"That's not what I meant," he said, a little impatient. "Why'd you name the dog Steve? That's not a typical name for a dog."

"I didn't name him," Danny said. "If I had, I'd have called him Nana, you know, after that dog in Peter Pan, from the original animated version, or Dolittle, you know, after the doctor, again, from the original, 1967 film."

"Nana? Dolittle?" the man's face took on an almost constipated look, and he regarded Danny as though he thought Danny was a few cards short of a full deck. Danny would have laughed if he thought it wouldn't offend the stranger.

"Steve, here, seems to think that it's his duty to care for every lost and stranded, parent-less animal on the island of Oahu. And now, he's brought home a baby monk seal," Danny said, eyes on the dog, rather than the man.

"Pup," the man corrected.

Danny turned to look at him. The man's blue eyes were filled with humor. It was nice.

Now that he was taking a closer look at the man, Danny could just make out a thin, silvery scar running from the man's temple toward the underside of his right eye. Danny suppressed a shiver of sympathy. An inch in one direction would have meant to loss of an eye, in the other, a loss of life if Danny wasn't mistaken.

"It's called a pup, not a baby seal." The man gave him, and Steve, a lopsided smile.

Danny resisted the urge, just barely, to roll his eyes, and took a deep breath before nodding and giving the man a tight smile.

"Point is, we can't keep it, him, her..." Danny waved his hand in the air to indicate his uncertainty of the pup's gender, "because monk seals are on the endangered species list, and I can't afford the hefty fine that I'm sure goes along with pup-napping."

"I doubt they'll fine you. You, or rather your dog, Steve..." the man's lips twisted in a manner that seemed self-deprecating, "saved the pup's life," the man said. "You'll both be heroes."

Danny shook his head. He was no hero. He was a father, a detective, the head of a family comprised of various animals that would be better suited to life on a farm. He was a man grieving.

Steve, though, was a hero. It was crystal clear to Danny. The dog had pulled Grace out of a depression that Danny had feared would never end. He'd rescued, much to Danny's chagrin, animals who, had he not come along when he had, would undoubtedly be dead. And he'd saved Danny, too, from spending the rest of his life wallowing in the cavernous hole that Rachel's death had carved into his heart.

Danny ran in his hand through Steve's fur, and wondered when this had become his life - sitting on a beach with a dog, talking to a stranger next to a dead seal, while a live one waited in a kiddie pool he'd set up for a crew of ducklings.

It was bizarre, and much stranger than fiction. The fiction of his life.

Danny cleared his throat, and turned to regard the stranger. The man's head was tilted, and his lips were quirked upward in a half-smile, as though he was party to something much bigger, and better than this moment in the sand.

"I'm no hero," Danny said. "Steve, on the other hand..." Danny paused and hugged the dog, and endured a tongue bath with minimal sputtering. "Steve's the real deal."

The stranger smiled, and nodded, and then stood, dusting the sand off of himself. For a second, Danny thought the man would offer him a hand to shake, but he didn't. Instead, he gestured toward Steve, and toward the dead seal.

"Take care of him," the stranger said. "I'm sure that everything will be fine with the pup."

And, with a small wave, the man was gone, down the beach, quicker than Danny could follow if he wanted to, and Steve was whining, and pawing at him, and licking his face to get him up out of the sand and heading toward home.

A quick call to NOAA's (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) hotline, and Danny was the proud, temporary guardian of a baby monk seal (pup) for the next foreseeable future. They were short on volunteers, and, according to the expert he'd spoken to on the phone, moving the pup would be far more traumatic than keeping it where it was until it could go out into the open water on its own.

Danny was given directions for caring for the pup, and further instructions for care and feeding were sent to him via email. A representative would be sent to check on the seal's condition and bring Danny the supplies he would need to care for the orphaned seal within the next hour.

By the end of the conversation, Danny felt dizzy, and as though he'd taken on a little more than he could handle, but with his knee acting up, he could, and probably should, take sick leave, and, well, this would give him something to do, and Grace, when she came home, would be thrilled.

Danny took a deep breath, and dipped his hand into the water. It was warm, but not too warm, which is what the NOAA representative he'd spoken to on the phone had said was important. The pup's eyes were still baby blue, and Danny would wager that they'd only recently opened, meaning the pup would definitely need to be bottle fed for awhile.

Steve was standing guard next to Danny and the pup, one of the ducks had sidled up next to him, and the baby mongoose (Danny wondered if the stranger would have known what the proper name for a baby mongoose was) had clambered its way up to rest on Steve's back.

Danny shook his head, and pulled the dog into a one armed hug. "I guess it's a good thing I'm able to take some time off, huh, buddy?" Danny said into the cooling night.

Steve gave a gentle woof of agreement, and then licked Danny's cheek. Danny absentmindedly wiped off the slobber, he was already mentally ordering pizza for dinner, and preparing a speech for Grace, and Steve, about how the pup was only going to be a temporary member of their family.

"Danno!" Grace's voice reached him well before the little girl rounded the corner of the house, and launched herself at her father, and their faithful dog. Danny smiled when, after she'd told him all about her day, and about the project she'd been working on before she came home in a single breath, Grace stuttered to a halt, her eyes growing wide as she took in the baby seal sitting in the ducks' kiddie pool.

Danny's well prepared speech was lost by the time that his daughter had finished squealing in delight. The NOAA representative took that time to arrive, and he showed Grace, and Danny, how to care for the pup, and seemed amused by the plethora of animals that they had adopted, though Danny tried to explain that, really, none of it was his fault, and he hadn't planned any of it, but that it was really Steve who had done all of it.

The man shook his head, and placed a hand on Danny's arm, and gave him a look that told Danny he believed that Danny, and not Steve, was the pushover with a heart of gold.

Danny showed the man to the dead monk seal, and ordered pizza, and by the time that bedtime rolled around, he was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, but he dutifully set his alarm clock for an obscenely early hour of the morning, because he had to feed, Moana (named after a seafaring heroine in an upcoming Disney movie that Grace was eager to watch) every four hours.

The pup was about two to three weeks old, and while it was a major risk to have Danny bottle feed her until she could be weaned over the next three to four weeks, the center's resources were tapped, and there was no other option at the moment.

Danny could only hope that the seal did not bond with him, though with his terrible luck with the animals that Steve had brought home, that was highly unlikely. He was already feeling something for the helpless pup with the big blue eyes, and pitiful, mewling cry.

Danny got the routine of caring for Moana down over the next few days. He'd called in sick at work, went to the doctor to get a note, and learned that he would need to rest his knee for the next couple of weeks, or risk having to go through surgery. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he wasn't surprised.

The next few days went by in a blur of exhaustion and a whirlwind of activity that kept Danny busy every waking hour. Representatives from the NOAA came and went, checking on Moana and Danny. They took photographs of the pup, of Danny, or Grace caring for the pup.

Danny was running on fumes half of the time, so it barely registered what was happening when the media came (he thought it was another rep from the NOAA) and interviewed him, and took photographs of Danny and his animal family.

The morning following the interview that Danny hadn't realized was an interview, dawned bright, and much too early, especially since Danny had been out to his living room (he'd moved the pool indoors) to feed Moana twice throughout the course of the night.

Danny swatted his alarm clock, only to realize that what had wakened him had been his phone, and not the alarm that would alert him to feed Moana.

Danny groaned when he did look at his alarm. Moana wasn't due another feeding for another hour and a half, and then he'd be up for the day getting Grace off to school. He could nap during the day, but rarely did.

"Meka?" Danny said groggily, and then quickly sat up in bed, dispelling several squawking ducks, a scolding mother mongoose and her offspring, a huffing Steve, and a rather disgruntled gosling, when Meka launched into a congratulatory speech.

Apparently the stranger had been correct in his assumption that Danny and Steve would be heralded as heroes. Danny's 'heroic' rescue of the monk seal, as well as the animals that he had 'rescued' over the past several months was being featured on the front page of the newspaper.

"It's so cute," Kono's voice came over the line, and Danny knew that he was doomed.

None of the officers that he worked with would take him seriously now. Apparently he was being called Papa Goose in the papers, and, to make things worse, the story was trending.

Danny growled and hung up, he turned toward Steve, and lost all his anger. The dog was staring up at him with doe eyes, the mongoose offspring dangling from his chest hairs, and the gosling tucked safely underneath his bulk.

"Papa Goose," Danny huffed, and shook his head, and turning his ringer off, he went back to sleep, once all of the animals had resumed their positions on the bed, tucked safely around Danny, that is.