Missing Scenes, "Ma'ema'e"
by Sammie

DISCLAIMER AND RATING IN PART 1.

SUMMARY FOR PART 2: Steve ponders his long-absent teammate. Post "Ma'ema'e".

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please note that these are VERY long. I address this chapter, my episode speculation, and the episode itself. Go ahead and skip straight to the story, after the horizontal lines.

THIS CHAPTER: I tried to write a "fix-it" FF, as aqiran called it, and it just would not write. :-( Sweet Malia even showed up to help me, but no go. WARNING: this is not a happy FF, and Steve takes another beating. Run!

[ h 5 0 ]

CHP. 1, THE EPISODE SPECULATION: I was really surprised at the response. I thought only us Kono fans were upset about Steve and Danny's lack of concern for her - but nope! As for those who didn't like the episode speculation - that's fine! It's fanfiction, and I'm no professional writer.

Thank you to everybody who read, and especially to those who took time to review. I respond to a few posts below; I'm sorry I can't address every one, but know that I did read ALL the reviews.

To fione and benito: yes, the ending was ripped from "BSG". :-)

To Kelly: I'm sorry you didn't like the episode speculation; that's perfectly OK. You did, however, bring up 2 points I'd like to address.
- "I'm getting tired of Danny fans proclaiming how great Danny is and how Steve either couldn't cope without Danny or what a saint Danny is." From your post, I assume you believe I am a Danny fan because of the bashing Steve gets from me: i.e., Danny fans will bash Steve in fics. This fic bashes Steve. Therefore the writer is a Danny fan.

It's logically fallacious to assume that just because somebody bashes Steve that he is a Danny fan: for example, Hesse and WoFat bash Steve, but they're clearly not fans of Danny. It would be akin to saying, "White supremacists hate the Chinese man WoFat. Steve hates WoFat. Therefore, Steve is a white supremacist." (This is the same mistake made by those who claim that dislike of Lori must stem from female jealousy of Lauren German.)

All that said, I'm actually not a Danny fan. He's my least favorite among the four (sorry, Danny-fan reviewers) and I believe Steve would be just fine without Danny. He lived the first 30+ years of his life without the dude, right? :-)

- "Kono is not in the show as much because the writers wanted some hot new blond babe. That's nothing to do with Steve's character." I don't think that Kono's lack of airtime has to do with Steve, but I don't believe anybody, including me, ever said it did.

Peter Lenkov (and some fans) has said we should assume things happen offscreen; supposedly we are to assume that Steve and Danny would of course have called Kono during her suspension. I disagree:
- when Danny DID call Kono, tptb made it a point to mention it (premiere).
- clearly there's time for crap scenes like Chin and Lori at the hotel, but not two seconds to mention a call to Kono?
- the idea that Steve and Danny avoided Kono so as not to worsen her IA investigation doesn't work. Chin actually did cover up his uncle's crime, and yet he came to find Kono repeatedly.

Why did I choose Danny to yell at Steve in the episode speculation?
- Danny HAD called Kono. I ran with that.
- Steve, not Danny, yells at Chin about Kono; Danny stands quietly outside. (Spoilers)
- Steve, not Danny, yells at Kono. (Spoilers)
- Out of all of them, Kono ultimately protects Steve, the head of 5-0 and the actual thief - less so Danny. In the break-in, Danny is the least complicit (still guilty, less so than the others): he didn't know about the available money, nor did he do the theft. Steve owes Kono more.
- Chin would never say to Steve what needed to be said - only Danny would. For the sake of characterization, it had to be Danny.

[ h 5 0 ]

"MA'EMA'E" THOUGHTS. What I loved:
1. KONO and GRACE PARK. Kono held 5-0's future in her hands alone, and she bargained both her and the guys' way out of Steve's $10 million dollar mess. Now, the question is, do the guys deserve that loyalty? I'm looking at you, McG and Pompadour.

As for the actress: that interrogation room scene? She didn't move the whole time, yet she gave yelling Steve the two-worded "I can't" one way, and supportive Chin the same phrase in a totally different way. BRILLIANT.

2. CHIN and DANIEL DAE KIM. Chin and Malia are the best romance on "H50". They never use each other for favors (ahem, Steve) or cheat (ahem, Danny). Plus, the emotions on Daniel Dae Kim's face throughout - brilliant. Best one was Chin's horrified, "WTF?" face at Lori's questions at the hotel - so say we all, brah. So say we all.

Best quotes from episode reviews:
Brittany Frederick at Starpulse: "Steve goes nuclear, but I have to laugh when he talks about not knowing if they can protect Kono anymore, when they haven't done much of anything for her to this point. ... Steve's attitude toward Kono in the first half of this episode rankles me. ... He might talk about helping her, but his actions and tone don't back up his words. ...the long-expected reveal that Kono was working for Fryer made me smile - because it shut Steve up. And I don't ever want to feel that way about my main character."

Melissa BiJeaux at Popstar: "Cue a very pissed off Steve yelling at Chin for not telling him about Kono's new buddies. But see, they're both at fault. Chin didn't tell Steve right away, but hell if McGarrett ever asked after Kono since she lost her badge either. Can't get mad with the blame is partially on your shoulders too, McGarrett. ... And even though No One likes Fryer, you got to give the guy props for calling Steve on his sh*t. Steve plays it fast and loose and hey, Kono learned that from him. Snap, Steve. Actions and consequences."

RachelM at twocentscorp, about "Kaw Iwi Kapu": "So Iﾒm really hoping (and I know you are too) that we figure out why the majority of 5O has been so obnoxious and uncool with Kono."

Huh. These are the longest author's notes EVER.

FINALLY: on to the post-ep FF.

[A] final comfort that is small, but not cold: the heart is the only broken instrument that works.
- T.E. Kalem

He doesn't know how to apologize to her.

It's simple enough, says the small voice in his head (which, much to his horror, sounds perpetually like a ranting Danny). The first word is a single syllable, beginning with a long "i" and ending with a "mmmm"; the second, like "saw", as in the tool he wants to use to cut off Fryer's limbs; and the last, "reee", like the first syllable in "reaper", as in the grim one he wants to send after Frank Delano.

They barely get home to HQ before Danny is in Kono's office, and there's talking and a lot of hand-waving on Danny's part. Then there's a presentation of a large coffee and two beers, with Danny looking the proper penitent. The whole thing is ridiculous, but he watches Kono crack a smile - the first he's seen from her in months - and then it widens to a laugh. She opens her arms, and Danny steps forward and hugs her. When he releases her, both are grinning. Steve isn't so naive as to think that this will heal all rifts, but at least Danny took a step forward - well, more like bulldozed his way forward, as he does.

The competitive side of him thinks that if Danny can do it, he can, too - but he can't. He could never beat Danny - or Chin, for that matter - at being nurturing. Besides, using apologies to Kono as something to compete with Danny about seems so cheap. He wants to apologize, though, and he plans to apologize, even if it won't look anywhere as good as anybody else's apology.

But he doesn't know what to say to her, so he avoids her.

[ h 5 0 ]

Danny pops his head into his office. "You comin' to lunch?"

"I'm trying to chase down a lead, Danny. In case you forgot, we got a case."

"Bring you back something. Check." Danny turns to go, and Steve sees Kono in her office, grabbing a wallet. "I told you, I'm paying!" the blond shouts down the hall at her.

"Kono's going with you?" Steve asks, his voice tightening.

"Lunch is a small price to pay for her saving my job," Danny shrugs. "I owe her a whole year of meals for what she did with IA, and then another for how crappily I treated her during her suspension. Plate lunch OK for you?" He turns on a dime.

"Yeah, fine." He pretends not to watch through his blinds as the two of them head out of the office.

He hates Fryer with a passion.

He punched Fryer out in the parking lot of the bank, but it hadn't alleviated his fury. He was going to storm over to the IA office and pound the man some more, but the fleeting glimpse of the back of Lori Weston's head as she walked by caused him to pause. She was wisely staying out of his way, given how angry he was, but she was that reminder that he no longer had immunity and means to do what he wanted (no matter how much Fryer deserved that pounding) - that this new governor was waiting to bust his chops.

More than that, though - more than his own desire not to be back in the brig - Steve swears he will never, ever put Kono in that position again.

He accused Fryer of putting Kono in bad circumstances, driving around with a dead body in a car when she'd barely been out of the academy a year - but what had he done? In less than three months from her academy graduation, he'd taken Kono with him when he stole ten million dollars and then when he went to deal with Hesse. Hadn't she been dragged into terrible circumstances because of the job he'd hired her to do?

He accused Fryer of using Kono for his personal vendetta against Frank Delano. Yet he'd dragged Danny and Chin and Kono into his feud with Hesse and with WoFat. A year from her graduation, she'd met HIS nemesis - not hers - face to face, and WoFat had subsequently ordered her to be driven to some forest and shot, and only her sheer determination and butt-kicking skills kept her alive. Even worse - and ironic, given the circumstances - it was his personal feud with Hesse which first led to the break-in Kono had been pinned for.

He accused Fryer of essentially taking advantage of Kono, using her loyalty for his own ends. Yet it niggles at him: Fryer had offered Kono a business deal - get him close enough to Delano, and he would lay off Five-0. The man had then provided business support for Kono all the way through the assignment. A year ago, he had told Kono a year ago that they were family, and that they would protect her, yet neither he nor Danny had even bothered to call her since that news report IA had on TV. Whose sin is worse: Fryer, for hiding a small part of a business deal, or him, for promising family one thing and then reneging on it?

He accused Fryer of sending Kono in to deal with Delano without back-up, yet he knows it's not true. He remembers Fryer barging into interrogation, a curt order to Kono that she was free to go. Steve had had Kono watched like a hawk; she had made no phone calls, contacted nobody, yet Fryer knew where she was and what she was doing and had come to save her from it. Kono was Fryer's temporary employee, and he knew exactly where she was and when she needed his help; he himself was her back-up. Steve is her friend (or, he thinks wistfully, was) and her boss, and he did nothing to protect her when she was in trouble. (He has no idea what the h-ll popped out of his mouth when he was yelling at Chin.) He didn't even KNOW she was in trouble.

It kills him, this fact that he didn't even know she was running with Frank Delano and Ray Mapes - undercover or not. Yes, he knows that Kono didn't tell anybody anything, so he couldn't have known she was undercover. That's not what he blames himself for. He just assumed she'd spend her days surfing and sleeping and had never bothered to inquire after her. If he'd just asked - even just asked Chin - this Delano business wouldn't have shocked him so much.

Kono had never promised to care for 5-0 like her family, yet when it came time, she stepped straight up and bore the weight of the team on those thin shoulders. She was saving 5-0's collective behind, and he hadn't even bothered with a text message. He hates himself for it.

He doesn't know what makes him angrier: Fryer, that opportunistic slime ordering around HIS team like that, or himself, seeing Fryer do what he should have done.

He turns his chair so he can set his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together; he rests his forehead against them. Even with his own eyes closed, he can see Kono's in his mind - those large, dark orbs, full of pain but determined at the same time. He remembers her reaction to him: the wide, unblinking eyes, masking everything from him even as they stared straight through him.

Most of all, he thinks back to when she sat in that interrogation room, and all he did was yell and yell, and slam a chair down - something which made Chin raise his voice at his boss. Easy-going Chin, who didn't rant at HPD about his scandal, who barely raised his voice even to Sang Min and WoFat - he raised his voice to his boss in defense of his cousin.

It makes Steve wince guiltily. He still replays it in his mind - Chin coming in, raising his voice to cover his yelling; the man sitting down quietly in the chair he was just banging against the floor. He remembers how Chin spoke to her - so gentle, like a worried brother, his voice soft as he reassured her of his support.

Most of all, when his mind replays that scene, it's the change in her expression which cuts him to the bone. Steve remembers Kono's eyes, still staring blankly past her cousin as they had with him, but now suddenly filled with emotion, that mask having fallen away: her eyes, glassy with tears - tired, hurt, exhausted.

Lonely.

[ h 5 0 ]

He hears shuffling, and he looks out of his office windows to see Kono wincing as she tries to take down a large box. He goes over and takes it from her, pulling it down so she doesn't need to tax her shoulder. "Thank you."

"How's your shoulder?" he asks.

She pauses, her face shuttering as she looks at him, as if trying to figure him out, as if trying to figure out if he cares or if he's being polite or if he's just feeling guilty. He hates that she's doing that - that she's doing it to him. She says quickly and slightly uncertainly, "It's fine, boss. I can certainly work."

He doesn't know which hurts more: watching her in pain, or discovering that she thinks he only cares about her ability to work - and not about her.

He misses their camaraderie.

Their friendship started just two cases into Five-0 last year, when Danny was ranting about his lack of police protocol and Chin had an unconscious 'Danny is SO right' look on his face. (Chin, Steve discovers, has a stone-cold poker face when he thinks about it; when he lets his guard down, his emotions play across his face. Chin has the most entertaining 'WTF?' face Steve has ever seen, and he's learned that when Chin gets that face, he needs to stop whatever he's been doing. Danny will rant about everything from police protocol to his choice of music, but when the normally easy-going Chin gets that horrified look on his face, Steve knows he's really crossed the line.)

While getting reamed by Danny out loud (and by Chin's facial expressions in silence), Steve had rolled his eyes and happened to catch an amused smile tugging on their rookie's lips. He chanced a sidelong glance at her, catching her eye, and gave her a tiny grin of long-suffering patience. Her smile widened ever so slightly, and her eyes danced with merriment; clearly Kono didn't make as big a deal of what he'd done as the two veteran cops had. Cousins they might be, but for the first time Steve realized that Kono was not so straight-laced as Chin Ho.

From then on, he'd found a silent partner in (not literal) crime; they shared an amiable, fun relationship, unlike his more combative one with Danny and unlike his quieter, more serious tie to Chin. While the two veteran cops were perpetually trying to rein them in - in hindsight, perhaps he should have listened to them more - Steve knew he could find a kindred spirit in Kono; she had the same wild streak he did, but with less intensity of personality. She relaxed him while providing solid, butt-kicking backup. If he were feeling twitchy, he took Kono as back-up, not Danny or Chin.

He and Kono shared - share - a love for surfing and shooting and boxing. The first time the team went surfing (before Danny discovered, to his horror, that his daughter wanted to learn to surf), the ever parental Chin stayed on the beach with a stick-in-the-mud Danny. ("That is not a wave. That is a tsunami." "I am not going to drown on this godforsaken island." "Night surfing is illegal, remember?" "How is this even a sport?" - which got him a look from Kono.) Steve and Kono hit the water, and she easily outlasted him; as competitive as he was, he found his old skills returning the more often she bested him. The first time the team had to go for their quals, he learned that her ability to shoot a rifle had started not with good police academy scores but with a secondary-school rifle team, which she had eventually given up as she turned to surfing full time. The first time he went to her place, when the team had helped her move from her apartment into her new house, he found she kept a free-standing punching bag; she'd once had a military boyfriend who was into muy thai and boxing, and she used to go with him to the ring to cheer him on. After that discovery, he would occasionally call her up to spar; neither Danny nor Chin boxed. Their shared interests built their friendship.

They thought in the same patterns (resulting in Danny's complaints that she was hanging out with him too much, something he never said about Chin). They would joke out loud. Occasionally they would rough-house. And they'd share knowing, laughing looks - normally at Danny's expense.

He can honestly, honestly say that he misses her even more now that she's back, a daily reminder of the loss of that easy friendship they once had. She's a daily, living reminder of his ability to screw things up so royally.

[ h 5 0 ]

Danny and Lori have been trying to convince him repeatedly this MMA fight is not a good idea; Chin only objected mildly, but his face shows his concern. Kono, though - she's the only one who looks like she might share his excitement and his sense of duty, despite her concern. She's got a spark of excitement in her eyes and hasn't said anything to discourage him; in fact, she's the first one who says, "In the name of charity, right?" which silences the others briefly. Yet she hangs back from him.

She looks straight at him now, her eyes uncertain. She looks like she's going to offer to help tape his hands, and her lips part slightly, but then she shuts her mouth tight. She withdraws into herself, like people do when they don't know who or what they're dealing with, like people do when they're unsure how the person opposite them will react. He hates that she suddenly now questions what she thinks about him, to the point that she doesn't feel that she knows how he will react any more, to the point that perhaps that she thinks he might reject her - to the point that she feels she doesn't know him.

He wants to ask her for help, but he doesn't think he has the right to ask anything of her at all. It's a testament to their estrangement, he thinks to himself as he looks at his team.

"Kamekona and Max are most likely waiting in the stands," Chin points out, and they turn to go.

They're walking away when she turns around. "Have fun, boss," she offers, as lightly as she can, and gives him a smile, but something's missing; it doesn't ring with laughter the way her voice normally does.

"'Have fun'. 'Have fun'. Seriously? That's what you say to him? Like this is some charity fruit basket he's bidding on?" Danny, of course - his voice carries like a blowhorn, despite the distance and the noise of the spectators.

Steve walks by himself into the locker room and then begins to tape his hands. He works for several minutes on his own; then the door to the locker room opens, and he looks up to see who it is.

It's not Kono.

Her smiles don't reach her eyes any more.

He should know. He knows her smiles: the tight one, for times she doesn't like what's going on but feels obliged to smile; the intrigued one, for the times where she's curious about something; the amused one, for those instances when she thinks something is funny but knows she shouldn't show it; that entertained one, which comes before her infectious laugh, for those occasions when things are laugh-out-loud funny; the satisfied one, when she knows things have turned out well or she has done well; that happy one, which is a mix of amusement and entertainment but more with just delight and joy at everything. Part of how he tells - told - her mood is by looking at her eyes when she smiles.

He hasn't seen that happy one since she returned, whereas he saw it all the time before.

He'd apologized privately to her a week after the revelation about her undercover assignment came out. He'd rehearsed the apology the night before, and it came out smoothly and without a hitch, but something was missing. She had smiled, accepted his apology, and said she forgave him; yet now her eyes are shuttered, and he gets the distinct feeling that, despite her sincerity in saying she's forgiven him, his mistakes have driven a wedge between them.

When he was seven, he once lied majorly about going out to surf when he was supposed to doing homework. His mother had promptly forgiven him because she loved him, but it had taken him quite a long time to win her trust back. He has a feeling he's in the same boat now - only years and years older but apparently not wiser. Nor does he think of Kono in any terms like his mother, nor himself as a child. It's worse - he promised to care for her like he did family, and he treated her more like a forgotten acquaintance made while standing in line for coffee. He doesn't even know how he can begin to make it up to her, or how, or if it will even matter.

The whole suspension thing made their rookie grow up, gain years of experience and wisdom in those couple short weeks - wisdom and experience in how falliable and undependable people can be. Steve wishes fervently he hadn't been the object lesson, but the damage is done. Kono was never completely innocent - one can't be, being a cop - but it's not the same thing, knowing people can be evil criminals and then knowing the people you love and trust let you down so terribly. Even with Chin Ho's scandal, nobody left Kono herself; she was only witness to abandonment, not the victim of it. Now she knows it firsthand, and though she never voices her disappointment, he can see it in her eyes, and in those half-smiles she gives now.

They have a silent truce, now, a silent understanding, developed after two weeks of awkwardness. He felt it the first time after Kono's reinstatement, when Danny started ranting about protocol again. He had glanced over at her with a grin, like always, already anticipating her response - but she wasn't looking at him. She's smiling down at the desk, like she's amused, but it has the wistfulness of a memory rather than the amusement of the present. She still laughs that same laugh, but it doesn't have that twinkly-eyed brightness to them; she laughs like somebody who needs to have a good laugh after coming through a rough time. He wonders, with a sinking heart, if he did something to kill that free spirit, by ignoring her in her greatest time of need; and now, he's not even sure how to fix it. The awkwardness lends to their silent agreement: they avoid difficult moments by only being near each other when the others are there.

He hates every second of it, but what did he expect? He made his own bed; now he can lie in it. The worst of it is that she's not even gone, but he feels completely bereft. To fill the void he argues with Danny some more and calls up Joe White, and he flirts with Lori, but there's something so hollow to all of it. He wants her to smile again like she used to, but he doesn't know what he can do to get it back.

[ h 5 0 ]

He and Danny and Lori - because that's who he hangs out with now - head to Charlie Fong's lab. Danny's phone rings and stands outside, taking the call. Charlie's part-way through his explanation of the evidence when the doors to his lab whoosh open. Steve and Lori turn to see Kono standing at the door, holding a few bags of evidence and looking surprised.

"Hey, Kono," Lori greets her.

"Lori, boss," she greets with a half-smile. "Charlie, Max sends up more gifts."

"My birthday and Christmas all at once," Fong jokes as he takes the bags. He goes back to the explanation he was working on as all three listen.

When he finishes, he moves off with Kono to process the evidence she just brought. Steve takes a closer look at the evidence on the screen; he turns to Lori. "Looks like this evidence clears the suspect we have in lock-up."

"Too bad," she agrees. After a moment, she comments, "I didn't know Kono and Charlie Fong knew each other." In the background, he can hear Fong and Kono talking in a mix of English and pidgin.

"They've known each other since childhood," Steve offers, tearing his eyes from the screen to look at Kono and Fong. Fong says something and grins, and Kono laughs with a warmth Steve hasn't heard in a long time, and she smiles with a delight that Steve hasn't seen in a long time, and it's all directed at the technician.

"That's nice," Lori comments. After a pause, she repeats and clarifies, "That's a nice smile. I've never seen her smile like that before."

But he has, he thinks silently. Kono used to smile like that all the time - before all of this. Before he - and Danny - forgot about her.

"Charlie seems like a great guy, and he makes her smile," Lori continues with her commentary, not realizing the effect it is having on him.

"They're not dating," he replies with more sharpness than he means, then kicks himself mentally. Why is he even commenting on this?

Lori misses his tone (much to his relief) and keeps going (much to his irritation). "Too bad. They look good together."

Steve continues to watch Kono with Fong, and he has to agree; Kono's a tall woman. (On the team, only he's taller than she is.) Fong, though, is tall, too - tall enough that she has to look up to him slightly. Both are gorgeous people. They look like a pair some travel agency would put right on the front of a brochure, to advertise Hawaii.

More than that, Steve knows that Fong has been calling her regularly since her suspension, his own career be damned. The man knew what it looks like to be tied to somebody under suspicion by IA, but he tried to reach her anyhow. She deserves somebody who backs her when she needs it most, Steve thinks. Somebody who doesn't forget friends who are going through a hard time. Somebody who values loyalty as much as she does.

Kono laughs that happy laugh, the one he used to hear so often and now hears so very, very rarely. Steve watches as Charlie grins at the Hawaiian beauty; Steve watches as Lori smiles the smile of the well-intentioned matchmaker.

And he regrets.

END