A/N: This is a super-short chapter, but I just had to say thank you for the amazing, encouraging reviews and messages. They are not showing up here, for some reason, so I wanted to let you know that they did reach me, and I am so overwhelmed with appreciation for those who took the time to let me know that the plot bunny worked for you. It's given me a lot of encouragement, not just for this particular storyline, but about my instincts in general.

So, here's another bit, mostly to say thank you for the feedback. And, a special nod to the guest who pointed out the discrepancy with the Camaro in the last chapter (I fixed it) . . . I think you'll see that your heads up played out nicely in this chapter.

#*#*#*#*#

Gracie bounded into the house and into Rachel's arms.

"Mommy, there's going to be a Five-O party and I get to help plan it," Gracie informed her, her still damp pigtails bobbing excitedly.

"How lovely! You are a good party planner. Run up and get ready for bed, darling, I'll be up in a bit," Rachel said, kissing her on the cheek.

Rachel looked up to see Danny watching fondly, wistfully, as Gracie went up the stairs.

"Everything okay, Daniel?" Rachel asked quietly, as she turned and grabbed two tea cups. She held one up to him in silent question, and he nodded. She turned the burner on under the kettle, and then turned back to him, her head tilted, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Yeah, it's okay," he sighed, glancing back toward the stairs. "We made a beautiful kid, didn't we, Rach?"

She smiled. "That we did, Danny." She tapped her lip thoughtfully as she selected two tea bags.

"I always took for granted there'd be more," Danny said quietly, sliding onto a stool at the spacious counter. He studied the pattern of the granite.

"I rather did, as well," Rachel replied. The kettle whistled and she turned back to the stove, pouring water into the cups.

"Hey," Danny said, his fingers brushing hers as she handed him the cup. "I'm not complaining; Gracie . . . she's the single most amazing thing in my life."

Rachel gave him a sad smile. "You're a wonderful father, Danny."

"He doesn't deserve you," Danny blurted out. He took a sip of his tea as Rachel looked at him, dumbfounded. "I didn't deserve you, either, I suppose, but damn it, I appreciated you. I always knew you were out of my league, and if he doesn't get that . . ."

"Daniel," Rachel said softly. She started to say more but Gracie's voice called to her from upstairs.

"I need to go," Danny said. "Give Gracie a kiss for me." He put his cup carefully next to the sink and walked out of the kitchen quickly, before he could say anything else . . . incriminating.

#*#*#*#*#

"Jax," Steve whispered, brushing his nose against the back of her neck. The earliest rays of morning sun were highlighting the roof of his house behind him. His blessedly, mostly secluded house.

"Hmmmm?" she murmured sleepily, stretching.

"We, um, should probably go inside. Before it gets any lighter," he said, reluctantly. "Before we have to explain anything to the neighbors."

"What?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Ow . . . sand. Why?"

"You are remarkably incoherent this morning," he said, obviously quite pleased with himself. "Sand, because we fell asleep outside."

Jax's eye popped open. Sure enough . . . water. Sand. The quilt, tugged half-way over them.

"Where are my boardies?" she mumbled, starting to giggle.

"I'm not sure," Steve said, propping up on one elbow and glancing around. "I think they may be with mine, on the chairs."

"We weren't anywhere near the chairs," Jax protested. "What, you threw them? Why would you do that?"

"You're missing the point: I landed them on the chairs, out of the sand, in the dark," he explained.

"Hmm." Jax pretended to think about that for a minute. "I wouldn't want to miss the point," she said, softly. "Remind me again; what was the point?"

His arm slid around her waist and he nuzzled just under her ear, his stubble rough against the tender skin there.

"The point, Jacqueline Nolan, is that I love you," he said, "and I am in love with you, and that I am not going anywhere."

"That's a really, really good point," she agreed. "Was that all?"

"Ummhmm," he murmured. "One other thing: there's no one else."

She twined her fingers with his. "No one else," she said, soft but sure. She lifted his hand, their fingers linked, and pressed delicate kisses to his palm. She was fascinated with his hands; deadly at one turn, infinitely gentle at the next. "I love you," she whispered, her lips brushing against the inside of his wrist.

"Mine," he said, breathing out the syllable reverently as he kissed down the side of her neck, lingering over the pulse point.

She shivered and he paused.

"Okay?" he asked, his voice impossibly gentle for someone who knew how to kill you with their pinky.

"Oh yeah," she breathed, "but . . . I have to wear dress up clothes . . . no SWAT t-shirts . . . so . . ."

He made a small sound of frustration, remembering that she was committed to accompany the soon-arriving Mr. Kantaro, but then he set to work kissing slowly down her side, until he got to the scar on her hip.

"Mine," he repeated, a possessive growl, and she shivered again, and saw no reason whatsoever to stop him when he lingered there.

"Yours," she whispered, her eyes shining in the early morning sun.

The faint sound of a car engine, idling, then stopping, gave Steve pause. "Is that . . ."

"Not the Camaro," Jax mumbled, "don't worry."

Steve sighed and pressed his lips against the back of her neck again, holding her close, the thick tangle of her curls blocking the sun from his eyes. It would be okay, just for a few minutes, just to soak it in: the newness of it, the overwhelming contentment.

A car door closed. It sounded close.

"But Jax," Steve said, smirking. "Danny's not driving the Camaro. He has a car from motor pool."

"Holy shit," Jax squeaked, and then it was a comedy of tangled limbs, and a desperate grab for boardies, and Danny's voice from all the way inside the house and then . . .

"Oh for the love of - you've got to be - seriously?"

"Mornin', Danny," Steve drawled, standing casually behind Jax, who was wrapped in the quilt. He pointed to the chairs. "So, I'm going to step that way and grab my boardies, just fair warning."

Danny spluttered and turned around, holding his hands over his eyes and waving them erratically.

"Morning, Danny," Jax said breezily, as she walked past him into the house; trying, and failing dismally, to maintain some sort of air of dignity about her. There was nothing for it: her hair in wild, reckless curls and her cheeks flushed, wrapped in a quilt that tripped her on every third step.

"Make yourself at home, Danno," Steve said, as he sauntered by, clapping Danny companionably on the shoulder. "Make some coffee, too, if you don't mind."

Danny sighed and then shrugged and fell in behind them.

"I take it you found the right time and place then, Steven?" he said.

"Yup," Steve nodded, grinning over his shoulder at his partner as he headed up the stairs after Jax. "Careful, ku'uipo," he admonished, as she tripped over the quilt again.

Danny found himself alone in the kitchen. "How is this my life?" he asked the universe aloud, and then he shrugged and started a pot of coffee.

Steve was the first to arrive in the kitchen.

"Hey, Danny," he said, rubbing the back of his neck just a little sheepishly.

Danny smiled, genuinely, because he was genuinely happy for his friends. He was. But then Steve was shaking his head.

"Shit, Danny . . . I never understood. I mean, I tried, you know? I tried to sympathize, to empathize but . . . I never really understood what it meant, that you and Rachel split up," he said quietly.

"She left me," Danny corrected. "We didn't split up. She just . . . she left me. She took Gracie; took my baby girl. And left."

"And you spent six months . . . "

"Drinking myself into oblivion," Danny said, smiling sadly. "Yes. Mattie, God bless him, he held me together."

"Danny. I'm sorry," Steve said. "I'd never want to give up having you as a partner, having you as part of Five-O, but I hate what it took to bring you to Hawaii."

Jax padded into the kitchen, boots in hand. She kissed Danny on the cheek as she went past him, making a beeline for the coffee maker.

"Jax was convinced that we needed to set you up with someone," Steve teased.

"I was under the influence," Jax protested.

"You suggested Mary," Danny reminded her, laughing.

"But seriously, Danny, you could meet someone," Steve said. "We could go out, something casual, a group of us."

Danny shook his head. "Thanks guys, but that will definitely need to wait."

"Wait for what?" Jax said, sipping her coffee. She tilted her head at Danny, curious.

Danny sighed, and dropped his eyes. "It will have to wait until I'm not still crazy in love with Rachel," he said.

"Oh, Danny," Jax murmured, putting her coffee on the counter and grabbing him into a hug. Her strong arms wrapped around him, and he allowed himself a long moment of resting his head on her shoulder. "It's just so cosmically unfair to you. It sucks. I'm sorry."

"I am, too, babe," he said, kissing her temple. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her. "And I know you are. And I would be stupidly, pathetically lonely without you guys. So I appreciate you letting me crash here so much. But please, for the love of God . . . on a work morning? Seriously? You realize you actually could be arrested for indecent exposure."

"Don't worry, Danny, I don't think it will happen again," Jax said.

"It won't?" Steve chimed in. He sounded a little disappointed.

"There's sand, Danny," Jax said, earnestly. "There's sand . . . and it's . . . it's everywhere . . . "