He realises he's in deep trouble a few seconds later than would've been ideal. When Chin asks, all innocence, what Steve thinks of their unofficial new recruit, their rookie, he should say he's impressed, that she can think on her feet, that she's a good fighter, tough, ballsy. That she played her part incredibly well, that if he hadn't seen Kono fell that guy who messed up her wave he would totally have bought into the frightened, desperate little girl from China who wants to help her parents get out routine. There's raw talent there, and plenty of it.

Heck, he should just tell Chin he's happy to help out a friend, and a friend's cousin, that being able to do a favour for his dad's old partner is a privilege. That he's glad he can offer her a better opportunity than the HPD will ever give her.

Even commenting that she has a sense of humour under pressure and what a great asset that is would work.

Really, any of these things would be fine. Almost anything positive would work just fine at this point.

Almost anything.

What he definitely, absolutely should not do at all, though, never mind in front of Chin (because let's not forget, this is Chin's baby cousin we're talking about, and the fact she's very definitely no longer a baby and can clearly kick some serious ass is not about to stop Chin feeling protective) is to shake his head wonderingly and breathe "Amazing" in a tone that's something close to reverence.

That's not fine. That's really not a good idea at all, and giver of second chances or not, he sees the expression on Chin's face, realises what he's just said and how he said it, and (this is the big one) who he said it to, and fully expects to get punched in the mouth.

Chin, apparently, is not so easily riled. There's a look there, sure. It's a look that says a lot of things. Things like, you may be John McGarrett's son but don't for one moment think that I will hesitate to rearrange your face. Things like, choose your next words carefully unless you want them to be your last.

Steve manages a weak smile which he hopes is apologetic. The one very small positive here is that Danny and Kono went to get in the beers for a little unofficial team celebration, and so it's only Chin witnessing this humiliation. Of course, that also means there's no one there to stop Chin from killing or maiming him, so it's kind of a wash.

"Uh, I mean. She's, ah." Words. Find some words. Any words. "Very athletic." Not those words. "I mean she's clearly well trained, knows how to handle herself, knows how to get her man."

Shit, that sounded so much better in his head. Chin's eyebrows have developed a life of their own, acting independently from the rest of his face, and Steve wishes he knew Chin a bit better and had any idea what messages those eyebrows are telegraphing.

"I mean, she did amazing in there, kept her cool, you know, even when they wanted her to prove she wasn't wearing a wire." Because, yes, reminding Chin that they all saw Kono in her underwear and that that was in some way probably Steve's fault is really gonna help. "I mean..."

He's listening to what's coming out of his own mouth with horror, willing himself to shut the fuck up, for fuck's sake, but the message isn't getting through. How many more inane things can he find to say? A lot, it seems. Like, really, he doesn't know how he's still talking here.

At this rate, Chin is going to pound him into a pulp and Danny and Kono will return to the office to find that half their team is gone: one dead and one held on murder charges. Even if he felt justified in defending himself, he has one arm in a sling and though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he's feeling the bumps and bruises from the last couple of days.

Finally he runs out of stupid, incriminating garbage, manages to shut his mouth and keep it shut, and cringes penitently. He's really not used to feeling three inches tall.

Steve McGarrett does not, typically, babble uncontrollably. (He's fairly sure that's Danny's role in their fledgling partnership.) He doesn't lose his head over a pretty girl. He does not make a complete and total ass of himself in front of a colleague - a man who looked up to his father as a mentor, who he knew when he was a kid and who's earned his respect in the short time they've worked together as adults.

If he apologises, does that just make his embarrassing crush even more obvious? He thinks that boat has pretty much sailed, so maybe it's worth trying just in case. "Look, Chin, I'm-"

For better or worse, that's the moment that Kono and Danny come bursting back into HQ, and damn, but Kono is amazing, he thinks, as he looks at her. She's glowing with pride still at her first real police work, and throwing her head back with laughter at some pineapple related comment of Danny's, and when she looks up at Steve and treats him to that megawatt grin and those ridiculous dimples, he has to remind himself that Chin is still right there not to do something completely inappropriate like maybe make a pass at her or kiss her or fall on his face at her feet.

"Hey, Kono."

"Hey, boss."

He glances over at Chin, and catches the man with a wicked look on his face. Steve's seen that look on other people enough times to know what it means. Chin's gonna save this up for a rainy day. Why make Steve pay once when he can dine out on it forever? Chin winks at him, eyes crinkling up (apparently the grin is a family trademark) and Steve shrugs, resigned. He deserves it, and he's being spared further humiliation - at least for now.

Kono's ripping into a six pack and handing out bottles. "Have a beer, boss. We did a good job today, right?"

She doesn't ask it as if she's looking for his approval. She's confident they did good. He almost feels like she's telling him more than asking him - making sure he acknowledges it, certain they deserve the praise, wanting him to take his share of the credit - and that makes him smile a little wider.

"We did, Kono. Amazing."

She grins again as she sits down. "Good."

Yup. Amazing.