A/N: A new story line! This is just a short chapter, there's more to come.
A reader asked about Danny and Rebecca, and why she would call him . . . this is what happens when it takes me forever to post new chapters, sorry! Waaay back in the story, when Steve pulled Riley out of the Special Activities Lab, Rebecca was the nurse who helped him. We saw little hints of interest from Danny then, and it was Danny who helped Rebecca shop for clothing and get set up in a new apartment. In Chapter 33, Danny introduced Rebecca to Rachel when he was injured and in the hospital, and he tells her that he would like to be more than friends. And then in Chapter 35, there is snuggling. All of this because I think Danny should either be with Rachel or with someone who genuinely understands the nature of his work and the importance of his team, and so in this story, I went with the second option. :-) I hope that helps! And I'll try to post more frequently, if at all possible.
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Charlie exited the elevator and headed for Steve's office.
"Hey, Charlie," Steve said, standing up and gripping his hand in a friendly handshake. Mostly friendly. Just enough of a grip to remind Charlie that he could, if the situation called for it, break his neck with his bare hands. But mostly friendly.
Charlie smiled and looked him straight in the eye. Steve wasn't his boss, exactly . . . and Charlie wasn't dating Steve's sister, exactly - although, in time . . .
"This shouldn't be awkward," Charlie said.
Steve sighed and dropped his head. "I know. I'm sorry. I just - I'm an overprotective son of a bitch, apparently."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Charlie laughed. "You think I don't understand? The situation warrants that you be overprotective. I hope that in time, it will become obvious that we're both interested in protecting Riley, and her best interests."
"So you are interested in my sister?" Steve said. He tried to say it politely. He did, really, and wow, Kono was shamelessly leaning around her computer monitor and peering into his office. He glared at her and she grinned back. He sighed again. Really, he knew that first day on the beach, this was what he could expect.
"Absolutely," Charlie said. "Seriously, man - she's intelligent, compassionate, funny . . . beautiful, obviously. And strong and stubborn enough to manage not to kill me, at great pain and unknown risk to herself. I'd have to be blind and a fool not to be interested. I'd also have to be blind and a fool to try to pressure her in any way. They'd never find my body."
"I'm not trying to threaten -" Steve said hastily. He remembered Danny's comments about Charlie, and really, Danny was right: Riley could do much, much worse.
Charlie laughed again. "Brah, seriously, you think Riley would need your help?"
Steve blinked at him, and nodded slowly. "You have an excellent point. I . . . I'll try not to be an asshole. That's the best I can promise at the moment."
"Fair enough. Now that's settled, want to go over this footage? I did find something interesting," Charlie said.
"Yeah, absolutely," Steve said, holding out his hand to accept the flashdrive. "Let's put it on the plasma." He led the way to the smart table and queued up the file.
"By the way, Riley and every member of my team is fully aware of the security cameras," Charlie said. "We had them installed after . . . the gunshot incident. There are no cameras in the breakroom or the restrooms - I hope that goes without saying. One camera in each office, angled to the door as the primary focus, as you can see. Everyone is free to situate their desk and work surfaces as they see fit. This isn't designed to surveil our people."
"I understand," Steve said, nodding. "We have a similar system in here. Only my team has access to our footage."
"Same," Charlie said. "I have access, and Dr. Bergman. Okay, so as you can see, right . . . here. Here, the door to Riley's office is ajar - she usually keeps it partially open."
"She has some issues with tightly enclosed space," Steve said quietly. "She'd also want to see what's coming at all times."
"Of course, which is why she keeps her work surface at an angle toward the door, her back into the corner," Charlie said. "And because she sits so low, the camera only gets her eyes and the top of her head in the frame. Like most . . . well, okay, like most hackers, she's pretty keen on keeping her screen and keyboard from view. Nine of out ten people in my department are the same. It's instinctive."
Steve sighed, watching the footage, which Charlie had set in extremely slow motion. "The hypervigilance isn't instinctive, though."
"Yeah," Charlie said quietly. "Okay, watch starting at this mark - you'll see . . ."
Steve watched intently. "She tilts her head at the computer . . . now she's looking at the door . . . and back again. She looks confused . . . oh."
"I don't know Riley well enough to claim to be able to interpret her facial expressions, but I'd guess that's going from confusion to fear?" Charlie asked.
"I'd say so," Steve said. He folded his arms over his chest, his lips tightening in a thin line. "Something spooked her, for sure. She tried to blow it off later . . . "
"Yeah, but it stuck with her, enough that she mentioned it to me hours after the fact," Charlie said.
"I appreciate you not letting her dismiss it," Steve said. "And you pulled footage from the hallway?"
"From the hallway, from the adjoining offices . . ." Charlie nodded. "Nothing. No one was near her door, no one was looking for her, or talking about her. There's no reason anyone in the offices that day would have said her name. If she heard something - and clearly, she heard something - it came from her computer."
"Radio, iPod . . ." Steve mused.
"Highly unlikely," Charlie said, shaking his head. "First of all, she would have thought of that, right? And, I've never heard her listen to music in her office. In fact, it's almost uncomfortably quiet in there, by most people's standards. She seems to like it that way."
Steve thought of Riley hearing him move about the house in the middle of the night - easily, apparently, when everyone else swore that he was silent. Danny routinely threatened to put a bell on him.
"I think . . . I think her hearing is exceptionally sensitive," Steve said. "She loves her office. Maybe she's never complained, but everywhere else is . . . too loud? I'll ask her."
"Good idea," Charlie said. "As long as she's happy, she can have her office as silent as she likes. I'll add soundproofing if she needs it. So, what do we do with this? Obviously, she heard something that caught her attention. Or . . . thought she did. If it didn't come from the computer . . ."
Steve looked at him, horrified. "Shit, you think the . . . something could have been reengaged? From the . . . the Shelburne mess?"
"It's a completely unknown technology," Charlie said gently. "But operating on the assumption it's the computer . . . do you want me to check it out?"
Steve thought for a moment. "I have another idea."
#*#*#*#*#
"Hey, guys," Jerry called excitedly from the front porch. "Come on in."
Steve smiled as Riley launched herself from the truck and flew up the stairs, her long, coltish legs carrying her up two at a time. She wrapped her willowy arms around Jerry's reduced bulk and squeezed him carefully as he balanced on his walker.
"Jerry," Steve said, following after with Riley's laptop in hand. "How's it going, brah? You're looking fit."
Jerry smiled. "Well, I have always been and will always be a big guy, but I've followed the meal plan and the physical therapy program to the letter. I'm anxious to ditch this walker and get back to driving and going up and down stairs, that's for sure. Turns out the pool exercise therapy is something I love."
"That's fantastic, Jerry," Riley said, helping him navigate his walker back through his front door.
"Although, let's face it, every exercise I do out of the water is automatically a weight-bearing exercise, which is kind of a plus," Jerry said cheerfully. He led them to the dining room, which had been reorganized as his office. "Why am I looking at Riley's laptop?"
She ducked her head sheepishly. "It's probably nothing, but Steve and Charlie are worried."
"Riley heard her name being called the other day," Steve said. "But there was no explanation for it. No one in the hallway or her office, and no one looking for her or asking about her in any of the adjoining offices."
"I probably imagined it," she said.
"And you . . . you think it came from an external source?" Jerry asked quietly. He didn't entertain the possibility that she'd imagined it; not after seeing the concerned look on Steve's face. "Not from, you know."
"My immediate reaction was to mute and unmute my laptop speaker," Riley said. "So, if I heard something, I thought it came from my computer."
"Let's go with your first impression," Jerry nodded, "because that's usually correct. Okay, let's boot this up . . ."
They watched as Jerry's fingers flew over the keyboard.
"Have you run a diagnostic on it yet?" he asked Riley.
She nodded. "Yep, it checked out clean for me. I thought maybe I'd picked up a virus when I did some research on the dark net for a case. But I can't find evidence of anything."
Jerry frowned as his fingers continued their rapid tapping.
#*#*#*#*#
"This is a very suspicious person indeed," Lee Soo commented, as he rapidly severed their link to Riley's computer. "I do believe that if he looked long and hard enough, he might find a trace. However, today he is most likely to stumble upon one of the relatively harmless viruses that I installed in the software, and that should divert him from investigating further."
"He is equally suspicious of everyone, and ultimately loyal only to the girl," WoFat said, nodding. "He could prove useful, someday. She's quite fond of him, and McGarrett feels he owes him something. You're sure he won't discover our hardware link?"
"Human nature, even suspicious human nature, is self-congratulatory and easily convinced," Lee Soo said. "He'll be preening under the approval of the girl and McGarrett, they'll be relieved and willing to accept the logical explanation."
#*#*#*#*#
"Thanks, Jerry," Steve said, as they packed up the equipment. "We owe you another one, man."
"Riley would have found the virus if she'd continued looking," Jerry said. He glanced back toward the kitchen where his mother was insisting upon feeding Riley a snack. "She might have a tendency to underestimate the fact that every day people are up to no good, you know what I'm saying? I mean, she's used to worst case scenario bad guys. I'm not sure that she understands that average citizens are capable of being mean and nasty, just for kicks. I mean, a virus that decoded her name and created an MP3 file . . . it's sophisticated, but doesn't really serve any purpose. Someone was just showing off."
"You think it was a mistake to let her go onto the dark web?" Steve asked, keeping his voice as low as possible.
"I'm not sure anyone really 'lets' Riley do anything," Jerry pondered seriously.
Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement as Riley came back from the kitchen, carrying a loaf of carefully wrapped bread.
"Ah, mom's been baking," Jerry said, smiling. "You'll enjoy that. Makes the best grilled cheese ever. So, this weekend, the new Zombie Patrol expansion drops. You up for a night of hot pockets and definitely, absolutely, positively no energy drinks whatsoever?"
"You're on," Riley said, grabbing her laptop bag and passing the bread off to Steve. "Send me a text."
She was quiet on the way home, fidgeting with the strap of her laptop bag.
"What's wrong?" Steve asked.
"I'm sorry I didn't block the virus, or even find it," she said. "I'm not used to missing things like that. It bothers me."
Steve nodded. "Look. Jerry said that -"
"That I forget that it's not just the CIA and international arms dealer scum who do bad things. I heard him," Riley sighed.
Steve was quiet for a long moment. "From two rooms away. The sound wouldn't carry . . . and there's no way you were reading our lips. How long has this been going on, Riley? I have excellent hearing, too, and trained to listen and pick up on things most people would miss. You're hearing things that I know I wouldn't."
"This isn't new," she said quietly. "I just didn't realize, until recently, that it wasn't normal."
"Okay," he said, nodding. "It's okay, I just . . . I didn't know."
She was silent for a while. "Yeah, I figured that out."
"You figure - oh, shit."
"Well, I could tell you didn't want me to hear, and you didn't think I could hear, so I found some music on my phone and I put my pillow over my head," she said earnestly. "I didn't disrespect your privacy, Steve."
"Riley," he sighed. "I'm not mad, okay? A little bit embarrassed. And a little bit sorry. You're right, I didn't think . . . geez."
"It's okay," she said, shrugging. "College, remember? Dorms."
He squirmed in embarrassment until another thought, beyond his own discomfort, registered with him. "So, wait, when - you played music on your phone, and you put your phone under the pillow with -"
"Yeah," she nodded. "I swear, it was just for a couple minutes, and when I realized - I knew that would block it. I've done it before, if I couldn't find noise cancelling headphones or something."
"Did it . . . Riley, if you can just normally hear at such a range, it's not like you have equipment that you can dial . . . when you did that, did it - Riley, does that hurt?" he asked, glancing at her in alarm.
She shrugged. "It was just for a while."
"Oh, honey," he sighed. "I'm sorry."
"It's not a big deal. I like going to Kono's, she's fun. And you and Catherine . . . you deserve to have time together without worrying about me. I won't live with you forever, I promise. And I did find my noise cancelling headphones. Sometimes I put them on, if -" she broke off.
Steve nodded to himself. "I was starting to piece it together," he said quietly. "That's why you love the mountain house so much; that's why, when I was stitching up your arm, that day, at Tripler, and Danny said to think of a place that made you happy, you mentioned the monastery. The quiet."
"The beach, at your house," she said. "My office. I'm finding places where it's quiet. It's okay. I'm okay. Tokyo . . . after the monastery, after Frank's . . . it was a lot. I spent a lot of time in the computer lab. I thought I was just . . . I didn't know. I thought I was just used to quiet. I didn't realize that my hearing was . . ."
They were silent for a while.
"I don't want it to be tested or anything," she said, after a few moments.
"Okay," he agreed. "But listen, if . . . the office, or the house, or . . . if it gets to be too much, we'll understand, you know that, right? If you need . . ."
Riley smiled. "Regular earbuds cut down on some of the noise, and if it gets really bad, I'll retreat, I promise."
"Good," he said quietly, parking the truck in the driveway.
Later, they sat in companionable silence, watching the sunset over the water.
"You know something," she said, "about . . . you're not surprised. That I can hear stuff other people can't. There's more, right? You're thinking there's more."
"Fielding said that your DNA had to be altered, so that you could physically keep up with the demands of the nanotechnology," Steve said. "I didn't think about it, for a while. We were just so glad to get you back from WoFat, and then back from - from Shelburne. But yeah, the other night, when you could hear me - Riley, I'm silent. Not quiet. Silent. It's ingrained, it's habit, and it drives most people crazy. But you could hear me. And when you grabbed that pineapple off the grill -"
"What?" she asked, scrunching her face in confusion.
"You know what, we're going to talk about that another time," he said firmly. "Maybe we'll spar, see if I know what I'm talking about."
"Yeah?" she asked, grinning. "Oh, you're on."
#*#*#*#*#
Riley studied the photos of the layered tattoos from the bodies on the dock. Even marred by bullets, she could make out the both the Kkangpae ink and the monastery ink. The work was good, but she knew what she was looking for. Her fingers traced over the photos gently. She hadn't recognized the faces of the men. It was unlikely that they were monks during her time at the monastery. When had they been recruited by the Kkangpae? Before she'd arrived? Or were they new monks, who'd become quickly disillusioned?
Your erstwhile protectors.
Riley's hands froze over the photos, and she stood slowly and backed away from the computer. She looked quickly around the perimeter of the room, and stepped to the door.
"Hey," Steve said, stepping back in surprise. His hand was raised to tap on the open door.
"Oh, hey," Riley said. She shook her head ruefully. "I . . . never mind."
"No, something's wrong," he said, wrapping a hand around her shoulder. "What is it?"
"I was . . . the photos of the ink, the monastery ink under the Kkangpae ink. I wish I understood the connection. I feel like maybe it's my fault those men died," she said. That had to be it - guilt. Guilt was making her mind play tricks on her. She dismissed the thoughts firmly and took a deep breath. "So. What's up?"
"Got your roll-out keyboard and cables handy?" he asked, grinning.
"Hell yeah," she replied, her eyes sparkling as she reached for her backpack. "Field trip?"
"Yep, I'll explain on the way."
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