Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Hawaii Five-0.

Intel

By
N. J. Borba

"Steve? You home?"

Catherine dropped her bag and keys by the door, kicked off her shoes and stared at the empty living room with a frown. "I finally finished the report on our trashcan murderer," she spoke, entering the kitchen but not finding him there either. Catherine made a pass through the back room before heading for the stairs. "James Thorold's case file is now a permanent part of the HPD archives and we can start our Friday night together," she continued pushing open the door to their bedroom.

"Although, I'm still a little miffed at you for taking off early without telling me," she declared. "Kind of rude the way you just…" Catherine stopped short upon fully entering their bed room. "Huh," she remained in the doorway, hands on hips. "Well, I seriously never thought I'd find you in bed with a younger woman," Catherine remarked.

Steve's head rose as he paused in the middle of the task he'd undertaken. He glanced over his shoulder and flashed a lopsided grin in Catherine's direction. "What's wrong? Are you jealous?" he asked before returning his attention to the baby laid out on the changing pad atop their bed. "Baby Joan is spending the night with us," he made a goofy face at the baby as he spoke. "Yes, she is," his voice changed as he cooed at the little girl and wiped her bare bottom.

"Oh," Catherine sagged against the door frame and crossed her arms.

He turned to catch her eye again. "You don't sound very excited."

"Not exactly what I imagined when I thought about us spending Friday night together for the first time in… I don't know, months," she couldn't exactly recall the last time they'd had a Friday night off to spend together, or any night for that matter.

He finished up the task with military efficiency, securing a clean diaper and pulling Joan's pink leggings up over her bottom half. Steve turned around again. "I know you were counting on us having some time alone, but Mary has a date tonight. And if it's anything serious, who knows, maybe little Joanie will get a daddy out of the deal. And then Uncle Steve can do less babysitting and make sure he's taking care of all Aunty Catherine's needs instead," he winked at Catherine.

She felt a little woozy, "Aunty?"

Steve shrugged. "Close enough, right," his attention returned to the baby and he tickled her tummy for a moment, delighted by the way she giggled. "Okay, my beautiful girl," Steve lifted the baby, kissed her cheek and then stood to face Catherine. "Will you hold her for me while I dispose of the nuclear waste she deposited into that diaper," his head nodded toward the rolled up diaper still residing on the changing pad.

"Doesn't she have one of those foldable crib things you can put her in," Catherine suggested.

He frowned at her lukewarm reaction to his request. "She does, it's in the spare room for tonight." Steve noticed the way she was still standing, leaning heavily against the door with both arms on guard across her chest. "Cath, I'm pretty sure I've never seen you hold Joan."

Catherine's face scrunched up a little and her head shook. "Don't be silly, I've… didn't I hold her that time, uh… it was Thanksgiving morning when Mary was in the shower."

"Nope, that was me," Steve starred at her for a moment longer. "Do you not like kids?" he finally asked, surprised the subject had never come up before.

"Me not like kids? Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed, reaching up to nervously scratch a spot behind her neck. "Kids are fine. I mean… if you like small human shaped blobs that need to be fed and diapered and demand constant attention," Catherine bit her lip when she noticed how he was eyeing her, almost scrutinizing her. "Okay, in all honesty, I've never spent much time around babies," she revealed, "As in, basically never."

"Really?" he bounced Joan a little while standing in front of Catherine, "How about high school babysitting jobs?"

Her head shook. "I was busy playing softball, performing in figure skating competitions, had a ton of ROTC responsibilities. No time for babysitting."

"But surely you had younger cousins you watched at family gatherings?" Steve continued to probe.

"All my cousins were older than me," Catherine replied. "Both my parents are the babies of their families so I was the youngest cousin."

"Very interesting," he took two steps toward her and held the baby outward. "Then you definitely need some practice, take her," Steve bounced the baby again in an attempt to make the pass off, but he could see Catherine wasn't moving. "Cath, she's not sleeping so I don't want to put her in a crib, that thing is like a jail cell. And she's an expert crawler, also starting to pull herself up on stuff lately. She needs to be watched very closely, especially upstairs. I don't want her falling."

"I have an idea," Catherine stepped to her left, "Why don't you hang on to her and I'll dump this for you," she made a move to grab the diaper off the bed.

Steve swiftly side-stepped to block her from the bed, still holding baby Joan in an outward position, "Come on, hold her for two minutes," he offered, "I'm just going to the garbage can near the gate and I'll be back. What could possibly go wrong?"

With more than a little trepidation, Catherine finally caved. She extended her hands and gently grasped the girl beneath her tiny armpits.

He tried to suppress a smile as he watched how she was holding the baby at arms' length, "Cath, she's not a grenade," Steve said as he gently pushed the baby toward her. "Babies need human contact, they need to feel secure. And they can also sense fear."

"I'm not afraid of her," Catherine instantly dismissed his accusation, holding Joan a little closer against her right hip.

"Okay, if you say so," Steve kissed Catherine's cheek and then grabbed the foul-smelling diaper off the bed. He slipped around Catherine and the baby and was already headed down the stairs before she could make any further protest.

Catherine looked down at the girl at her side. "Your Uncle Steve thinks he knows everything, but he doesn't. Forcing us to spend time together isn't the way to form a bond," her head shook as she walked the girl downstairs. "You should never be forced to spend time with someone. And I can't be held responsible for never being exposed to more interaction with babies, no offence to your species. From everything I've witnessed, you seem very sweet."

Joan smiled up at Catherine. "Bahmabah."

"Whatever that means," Catherine chuckled softly, finding herself rubbing the girl's back in a gentle manner that seemed to come naturally. She watched the front door open and close and spotted Steve fiddling with the screen on his cell phone.

He looked up at her with regret in his eyes, "That was Danny calling."

"No," Catherine immediately responded.

"He and Chin brought our bank robber in…"

"Steve, no," she spoke in a more serious warning tone.

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, knowing he was going to get in big trouble for leaving. "Catherine, please. I need to be there to question him."

Her eyes practically burned a hole through him, "Danny and Chin can handle it."

"But I have a rapport with the guy," Steve persisted. "He's got a record on the island and we've had more than a few run-ins before. Cath, I really think I can get him to make a deal this time. And we still need to figure out how many other places he's hit on the mainland."

"I'll go," she offered. "I can question him with Danny. I need the interrogation practice, right?" She watched his head shake. "You agreed to babysit," Catherine furthered her case.

"I am babysitting, just changed a diaper," he grinned, hoping to turn on a little smooth dog charm. "And I'll be home before you know it, about an hour or... maybe two. I'm thinking three hours at the absolute most," Steve kissed Joan atop her little head as he clandestinely reached for the keys on a table near the door. "You take care of Catherine for me," he whispered to the baby. "Don't let her do anything I wouldn't," he teased before inching out the door.

"Steve!" Catherine called after him, watching his retreating form on the front lawn, "You owe me big for this!"

Steve laughed as he made his way to the truck.

000

"Do you think he's actually at work?" Catherine asked the baby as they walked into the kitchen.

Joan grabbed a clump of Catherine's hair and yanked it toward her mouth.

"Whoa, easy there," Catherine maintained a calm voice as she tried to free her hair. "Maybe you don't realize this, but it hurts when you do that," she said to the girl. "I wouldn't put it past him," she opened the fridge and pulled out a readymade bottle for Joan then grabbed a container of coconut water for herself. "He and Danny are probably at the Hilton having a few drinks, laughing about how I'm here with you and freaked out. Not that I'm freaked out," Catherine sighed as she sat her coconut water on the counter.

She stared at the cold bottle of formula for several seconds. "I was a lieutenant in the United States Navy, an officer. I did three tours in Kabul. I worked my a… my butt off in Navy Intelligence for several years. Do you have any idea how much skill and patients that demands?"

"Bluryma," Joan declared.

Catherine shook her head. "I'm smart. I'm a confident person. I am not freaking out about being here with you alone."

The baby lunged backward, her head and arms dipping toward the floor. Catherine felt like her heart might burst from her chest as she swiftly reached out and secured a better hold of the girl. She clutched Joan tightly against her chest, realizing she'd dropped the bottle onto the floor. "Are you doing this to me on purpose?" Catherine asked, taking a few deep breaths to settle her racing heart.

Joan rubbed her eyes with small fists and then rested her head against Catherine's shoulder.

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" Catherine squatted to retrieve the bottle. "I've heard about this phenomenon before; being cute is how you suck us in. But I know that in a matter of minutes, or hopefully hours if I'm lucky, you're going to need a diaper change or something else. And I really have no idea how to solve any of those problems for you. I don't even know how to heat a bottle or change a diaper."

"Mumamuma," Joan gently cooed against Catherine's shoulder.

"I know you'd rather have your mama here. But she's on a date, lucky her," Catherine replied. "Who would've thought that Mary would end up with a baby, take on that kind of responsibility? I hate to admit it but she's more committed than Steve or I. He can't even say I love you. Not that I can lay all that blame on him. I've never said it either. I don't even know why. Don't suppose you have any ideas why?" she asked, almost expecting the little girl to have some sort of explanation for her.

"Babahummaguu!" Joan exclaimed as she sat up again, looking around the kitchen like she'd never been tired at all.

"Really?" Catherine nodded. "Well, thank you for clearing that one up for me."

000

Steve entered the house and pushed the front door closed behind him.

Only one small lamp was lit in the living room. And the TV was on, but muted as some sort of cooking show played on screen. He looked over and spotted Catherine lying on the sofa, curled on her left side. As he stepped closer he could see her eyes were closed. And little Joan was curled up beside her, snuggled safely between the sofa and Catherine's body. A soft throw was tossed over them, both of them appearing to be asleep.

He squatted beside them and pressed a kiss against Catherine's cheek. She stirred at his touch and turned her head, blinking up at him. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven thirty," he replied, feeling bad. "Sorry it took so long. How's Joan?"

"She's fine," Catherine whispered, hoping not to wake the baby, comforted by Joan's warm softness snuggled against her chest. "I managed to feed her, change her, bathe her…"

"Bathe?" he was curious about that one.

Catherine yawned, "Seemed the easiest way to clean her after a messy diaper."

Steve chuckled softly. "Cath, there were two tubs of wet wipes in her diaper bag."

"I know, I went through a whole one and it didn't help much," Catherine continued to speak quietly, not upset as she relayed the story, "What you're not understanding here is that this was no ordinary messy diaper. I've seen you and Mary change her dirty diapers before but this time… I swear it was all the way up her back and neck, Steve. She needed a bath. And, by the way, you were the last one to change her before that blowout so I'm blaming you for some loosey-goosey diaper fastening skills."

"Well, I don't want to risk cutting off her circulation," he defended himself. Steve kissed Catherine again, a gentle touch of lips as he brushed away a lock of hair that was hanging over her eyes. "Thank you for watching her. I'm sorry things ended up being difficult for you."

"Nah, I wouldn't say there were any difficulties," Catherine stretched a bit and carefully rolled away from the baby. She sat up and faced him, "Actually, I figured out that nearly half of childcare in about Intel. If you can gather all of the right intelligence on a task then you've got half the battle won. Googled a ton of stuff tonight, everything from proper bottle warming techniques to lullaby lyrics," she concluded.

He made a move to pick up the baby, "Did you seriously sing a lullaby?" Steve asked as he managed to lift the sleeping baby without waking her.

"I might've brushed up on some rock-a-by-baby," she grinned proudly, clicking off the TV and following him up the stairs.

"Is it weird that I find that a huge turn-on," he whispered as they entered the spare room. Steve nestled Joan into the portable crib and Catherine tucked a blanket over her. They stood there watching the little girl for a while before Steve finally took Catherine by the hand and led her to their bedroom. He positioned the baby monitor on his nightstand then striped down and eased into the bed beside Catherine. He spooned her from behind and nuzzled her neck.

She turned to look at him. "Really? After you left me with the baby for six hours, you think you can just be all cozy now and try to get something started?"

"Why not?" he looked disappointed. "You babysat for a few hours, Cath. It's not like you gave birth."

"Wow," Catherine sighed, turning her back to him again. "Remind me not to look to you for sympathy if I ever do give birth."

His chin rested against her shoulder again and he gently kissed her neck. "You think that's a possibility?"

Catherine shrugged. "I suppose anything is possible. In fact, there's a very good possibility you'll be sleeping on the sofa tonight," she continued trying to be mad at him. But his strong, surprisingly nimble hands and insistent lips were making it very hard for her to hold a grudge.

"You don't mean that," Steve whispered against her mouth. "I thought babysitting wasn't difficult for you."

"Just because I figured a lot of stuff out doesn't mean spending six hours with a baby wasn't completely exhausting," Catherine shifted again, facing him. "Okay, I admit that I might have been a little bit, just a teensy bit, afraid of watching Joan on my own. And there was a point when I was trying to get her to eat and every time I came at her with the spoon she would duck or jerk her head and ended up with food all over. Google gave me a ton of suggestions for mealtime, but none of them worked."

Steve smiled to hear how thoughtful she'd been, taking time to figure out the stubborn baby's predicament. "So what did you do?"

"Well, I used my Intel skills once again," Catherine revealed, "I called my mom."

He grinned, "Mama Rollins to the rescue."

"Yep. Turns out a simple airplane loop-de-loop trick worked when I was a baby, and it worked wonders for Joan. She downed one of those turkey and rice mushy meals, carrots and a large helping of pears. Then a bottle to top off the evening."

"And you blamed the diaper blowout on me?" his eyes widened. "After all of that food, no wonder the kid's backside gave out."

Catherine looked stricken. "Do you think I fed her too much?"

"No, Joan seemed to be sleeping peacefully," Steve tried to ease her conscious. "I'm sure she's fine. But I believe you have some repenting to do for making me think I was responsible for the diaper fiasco," he tickled her sides and watched her squirm. "Come on now, say it…"

"I have nothing…" her face grimaced, trying not to give him the privilege of showing remorse, "...nothing to confess," she gasped as Steve straddled her.

His brow arched, "Then I'm afraid you will suffer a grueling punishment."

"I'll take whatever punishment is due," Catherine eagerly agreed, kissing him with unrestrained desire.

The End