NB: I have been unable to find out who owns the copyright to this story, which has been one of my favourites for fifteen years or more. If you are the copyright holder, or if you know where (s)he may be found, I would be very grateful if you could contact me about it on wood_bee@yahoo.co.uk.

First published in 'Tongue in Cheek', May 1984.

"Get thee behind me, Satan," he said; then, putting the cigarette between his lips; "and push."

Not that it took much pushing. He was worn to raw nerves. He needed something to anaesthetise them for a while and nicotine seemed the least evil crutch. He could quit in the morning. He always did. But this was tonight and his war wounds hurt. For it was a war he and Wo Fat were engaged in, two really; the cold war between the US and China and the private war between two strong wills. He had won this skirmish, but not the war. Wo Fat had slipped away. His plans were thwarted. He would be back. People would be hurt. People would die along the way. Wo Fat would not care. Steve McGarrett did. He never let on, of course. He had an image to uphold. Smile seldom. Cry never. Live clean and American. Another drag. Tobacco didn't make you forget, of course, but it deadened his nerves to the cutting edge of the memory of the two children who had gotten in the way. If he wasn't Steve McGarrett of Hawaii Five-O he would have cried. As it was, he smoked and turned his thoughts to business. Life goes on.

"For some of us. Oh God, I'm tired."

He shut his eyes. In spite of himself, his senses blurred.

The sound of the door opening stirred him. He tensed but didn't move. Then he recognised Danny Williams' step and relaxed again. Danno knew about the cigarettes, so it didn't matter. He didn't have to jump up and fumble for excuses.

Walking softly, Danny came over to the desk, leaned over and slipped the cigarette out of McGarrett's hand. With a fond smile, he crushed it thoroughly and disposed of the incriminating remains. Then he returned the ashtray to a non-committal spot on the desk.

As he went about these quiet gestures, McGarrett remained still, his eyes seemingly shut in much-needed slumber, but he watched through the narrowest of slits. He found himself acutely aware of Danny Williams. They'd been mentor and pupil for some time and friends, too, but he couldn't recall noticing him like this before. God, he was beautiful. The fading light of the early evening softened his face to an almost angelic state. The shadows made his eyelashes seem long and softer. Although cool in here, it was sultry outside. Danny must have just come in because the sweat held his shirt to his body, making its contours more noticeable. He had put on weight, but it sat well on him. McGarrett liked how he was put together. It was somehow very right. The aura of heat still clung to him. It has risen to McGarrett's nostrils as Danny bent over him, warm and musky with a faint scent of cologne or aftershave. It lingered more in his mind than his senses but that memory brought faint, forbidden stirrings. The shock of the realisation startled McGarrett to full sharp wakefulness. He forced the stirrings to be still.

"Danno, what brings you back?"

Danny jumped, then grinned. Oh God, you are beautiful, McGarrett thought before he could stop himself.

"I was looking for you, actually. I need a favour. My car over-heated a couple blocks away and I'm a little short. Could I borrow bus fare?"

"It's too hot and too late to be taking the bus. Besides, it doesn't come all that close to your place, does it?"

Danny shrugged. "Not too far, and it'll get cooler now that the sun is setting. I feel really stupid. I usually have a pocketful of change."

"I'll give you a lift. I was just leaving."

"No. That's miles out of your way."

"No problem. What are friends for?"

The half-asleep ramblings were successfully suppressed as Steve drove Danny home. They talked shop. They always did, never about personal things. McGarrett had no personal life to speak of, and Danny did not burden him with his.

Danny lived alone in one of the new buildings not far from the beach. "Want to come in for a beer, Steve? I owe you something for the ride."

"No ... " Then he said; "Okay. A short one. I have to drive home yet."

"That light stuff's not much more than a glass of ice water." He patted his belly. "I'm trying to cut the calories a little. Not that I'm much of a beer drinker, but every little bit helps. Come on."

The small efficiency apartment was modern and, as this sort of hastily thrown-up apartment building often was, not really well built. But it had a view of the ocean from a miniature balcony, and lots of sunny colours and youthful decor. Most of the tenants were youthful too, judging from the ones who were about. It was the kind of place a young bachelor should live.

"They call these ponies, somebody told me," Danny said as he got out two small bottles and opened them. "You said a short one, and this is short all right."

"That it is, Danno."

He accepted the bottle and settled into a chair. The icy brew went down easily and felt good.

"Want another, Steve? There are two more."

The idea was tempting but he resisted. "Not on an empty stomach, thanks. I have to drive home." He started to get up, but Danny waved him back.

"I was planning to call out for pizza. It's too damn hot to go back out and definitely too hot to cook. My treat."

"No." He was suddenly averse to Danny's doing him a favour.

"I owe you more than a little beer for the wear and tear on your car alone, not to mention the gas. Besides, I have a $2.00-off coupon. Pepperoni, okay?"

"Sure."

As Danny called for the pizza McGarrett avoided watching him. The younger man had automatically stripped down to just his slacks upon entering, and the sight of him sun-browned and bare-chested was making it hard to suppress the feelings of earlier in the evening.

It's the heat, McGarrett told himself as he concentrated very hard on a pair of gulls silhouetted against the late evening sky. It's the heat and the strain. When I'm cool and rested, this will all turn out to be a crazy dream.

The gulls wheeled out of sight and Danny said; "They said it'd be about 45 minutes. In the meantime, I'm going to grab a quick shower. Help yourself to the tube. The remote control is on the desk. The other beer too, if you change your mind."

He disappeared into the bathroom. In a moment the water began. McGarrett turned on the television more loudly than he would have ordinarily. He found the sound of the shower disturbing, not so much for itself but for what it made him think about - the smooth white lather caressing brown skin, then flowing in graceful streams over the hills and valleys.

"God damn," he muttered and punched the buttons of the remote control, trying to find something else to think about besides behind that door. It didn't help. In fact the frenetic flashing of images and rattle of broken dialogue made him more tense than ever. In the end, he left it on the delayed broadcast of a baseball game and went for the other beer. He paused to absorb some of the cool air that rolled out of the open refrigerator. Not that it helped. Going away would help, but he had committed himself to stay at least for a while. A part of him knew very well he should walk out forcefully, though truthfully another part was still in the thrall of the madness and would not allow it. Madness. Indecency. He chugged the beer without stopping for a breath and was ashamed of himself for doing it.

The door buzzer was a welcome interruption. McGarrett answered the door and paid the delivery man. The man was tall, dark and well-built but McGarrett felt no attraction at all. Maybe the madness had finally passed. Maybe it had never been there at all. Hot, emotionally and physically tired, hungry, his whole being had just been momentarily thrown out of synch. The delivery man was far more physically attractive than Danny. That he was less interesting than the pizza he carried had to be a good sign.

"Was that the pizza, Steve?" Danny called.

"Yes, the pizza," McGarrett replied with satisfaction. Only the pizza.

"I'll be right out. If you want a plate or a fork, they're in the cupboard above the stove."

hen he turned around from getting the plates, Danny came back into the room. He had changed into white shorts and a blue tank top that caught the colour of his eyes. Still damp, his curly hair was curlier than ever.

He didn't really taste the pizza. He didn't recall the conversation. He remembered Danny's eyes and his hair. He remembered wanting painfully to touch him. He hadn't touched him, though. A victory. A victory over what? Over what mustn't be. Steve McGarrett was always victorious.

His own apartment was austere and lonely. It had always served him well before. Now it depressed him. He was suddenly, desperately lonely. He had always been a loner and proud of it. Why all of a sudden was it not a source of pride but of pain? He drank some hot milk and wanted a sleeping pill he didn't have. He finally fell asleep about two.

Morning brought pain. Real physical pain as well as emotional. It was arousal not satisfied, he knew. He was well aware of his body's succumbing to desire last night. The throbbing had hurt then. It hurt now. What hurt more was the fear that Danny might have noticed. That would be unbearable. The discomfort of mind and body combined to over-ride his sense of duty. For the first time in recent memory he called in sick.

"Not to worry, Steve," Chin assured him. "Things look pretty quiet. Take care of yourself. You know, Danny called in too. I hope it's not some new bug going around."

"Probably," he replied, "but it doesn't feel like it'll be a long siege."

"I hope not."

Danny, too. A coincidence, probably. Or - the thought made him cringe - or did he notice and was too embarrassed to come in? No, Danny had acted completely natural all evening. If Danny called in sick, he really was sick. Probably it wasn't serious. Maybe the pizza and the beer and the heat hit him wrong. Of course it could be serious. If it was contagious he should know; after all, they had eaten together. He picked up the phone.

Of course you're just looking for an excuse to call him, said the real Steve McGarrett to this foolish alter ego he'd only recently met and was afraid of. Yes, yes, that was true. He put the phone down.

He tried to catch up on some reading. He'd gotten a new treatise on the psychology of modern China. It had been very well received in many circles and would no doubt be of value to him in his work. He got a cup of coffee and settled into his chair with the book in his lap. For a long time he sipped the coffee and looked at the stark red and black jacket of the book. In due course the coffee was gone and the book still unopened. "Hell," he said, and tossed the book on the table. He didn't want to read it. He wasn't going to read it today, anyway. The walls were too close this morning. He wanted to be outside of the apartment and Honolulu. He dressed in jeans and a sports shirt. If he was going to play hookey he'd just as well dress the part. He felt guilty yet good about this uncharacteristic transgression. He dutifully acknowledged his guilt, then let the good feeling win out. He was unplugging the coffee pot when the knock came on the door.

Danny looked embarrassed. "I don't mean to intrude, Steve, but when I heard you were sick - well, the beer and the pepperoni pizza were my idea and it was my fault you had to drive so far out of your way in the heat. I felt like it might have been my fault."

"Don't worry about it, Danno. You didn't exactly hold me at gunpoint and force-feed me. It was probably just a short-term virus. I feel pretty good now. I thought I'd get some fresh air and then maybe go back to the office after lunch."

"Yeah, me too. I called in this morning too. Maybe it was something in the pizza."

No. "Yeah, probably. God knows what's really in pepperoni." He looked at his wrist and even though his watch wasn't there said; "It's time I got going. It's a ways to Mikana Beach and back."

"Mikana Beach?"

It had come totally out of the blue but a grand inspiration it was. McGarrett grabbed it tight. "Yeah. That art festival's going on out there this week and there's been a suspicion that more than art is being traded. And it's a nice drive. I'd get my fresh air and do a little scouting too. No sense wasting time if you don't have to."

"I suppose." Danny started to leave, then he turned back and opined; "It could be dangerous. Drug dealers don't take kindly to snooping around."

"I'll be careful. Besides, I don't plan to do any heavy duty investigation. Just breathe the air and glance around."

"Oh, but still ... "

"If you think it'll be too dangerous for one man you're welcome to come along. I suppose two of us can see more than one if nothing else."

The irritation and impatience in his voice was a lie. It must have been a good one, though, because Danny looked hurt. He was sorry but decided it would be best not to say so. Instead he grinned and said; "I'll order my own lunch, though."

Danny grinned back. God, he was so damn' beautiful.

"Deal."

The heat wave had lost its malevolence during the night. While still warm, the weather was softer and less humid. There were a few very white clouds tossed against the blue sky by a refreshing breeze. McGarrett had to fight the desire to drive too fast just for the exhilaration of it. He glanced over at Danny. The boy seemed relaxed and cheerful. Whatever had been ailing him before seemed past.

The Mikana Beach Festival was aimed at tourists, but even so it was a colourful happening. It had about it the atmosphere of a Renaissance Fair although it wasn't billed as such. There were bright tents and pennants. Authentically costumed entertainers and extras who roamed the throng just for show. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. It had nothing to do with crime and violence, at least real violence. There were some people in armour who jousted with bamboo rods and padded maces. Minstrels put on formal shows and just strolled.

"Seen anything?" McGarrett asked eventually.

"A lot, but nothing sinister. I have to admit, though, I haven't been watching all that well. This is really a fascinating place. I'm sorry I never got to know it before. Did you see anything?"

"Not really." He hadn't been watching either. The whole occasion was so far removed from his usual milieu that he'd forgotten why he was there. It was colourful and light-hearted. He'd never realised what a colourless life he'd been living. Of course it could be the company. Had he come with Chin or Kono on a scouting expedition he doubted it would be this way. He liked them, of course, but he couldn't really envision watching a kite fight with them or laughing at a juggling jester. If there was a dark side to this he didn't want to know about it, at least not now.

"I suppose we'd better get back to town," he finally said. He'd stopped looking at his wrist. He was no longer that tense and he didn't care exactly what time it was. "Besides, I'm getting hungry. You bought yesterday. Today I'll buy. That seafood place we passed on the way is terrific."

To his credit Danny did not feel compelled to point out that the Mikana Surf Club was a hell of a lot more expensive than a carry-out pizza. It was graciously accepted.

They took their time. It was too late now to return to the office and neither one really wanted to.

"It was interesting even if we didn't learn anything useful," McGarrett allowed, sipping a frosty after-dinner drink.

"It was. I think I'll go back. I had a good time."

His eyes were blue and smiling.

"So did I." Maybe it was the liquor or maybe it was just the spirit of the afternoon. Whatever the reason, before he could be rational about it McGarrett put his hand over Danny's. He regretted it instantly, not for its own sake but for what it might make Danny think or do. The response was totally unexpected and in its own way more frightening than a poke in the nose. Danny turned his hand over and returned the grip. They broke off in less than a second. But it had happened.

McGarrett looked at his wrist again and said it was getting late. They didn't talk again except to say goodnight.

It was not a good night. Not at all. He went so far as to take the legendary cold shower. It didn't work and he hurt the next day. But he went to work and pretended nothing had happened. He had never been warm and outgoing. That image was a good one to hide behind and hide he did. But when he'd look at Danny he couldn't hide from the feeling he got in that instant their hands clasped. Damn it, he was not gay. He didn't wear women's clothes, he didn't want to. He had no yen for young boys. He had no interest in hanging out in gay bars. But there was Danny. Danny, warm and angelic ...

Sometimes wishes do come true. Danny asked for a vacation. He didn't give a reason. He was not asked to. It was too good a thing for all concerned to question it. Go away, Danno, find a lady, find a lot of them and lay them all. Maybe I'll buy a 12 pack of full-sized bottles of beer and get too sick or too drunk to care.

But that was too alien to him to be a serious possibility. He plunged into his work so hard and so deep he left the men around him shaking their heads. Even the governor said that he really thought the head of Five-O was working too hard.

"And I say to you, Governor," McGarrett replied to no one when he was alone in his office, "would you prefer I drank instead? I could easily do that." He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The last time he fell asleep at his desk Danny had come in and leaned over him smelling so good. If only there was a chance of it happening again. Maybe if he wished really hard.

"Mr McGarrett?"

The voice was elderly, and female, and vaguely familiar. McGarrett opened his eyes. A small, grey-haired woman was standing before him. The hands that clutched her purse were trembling but her lined still-handsome face was resolute. He recognised her as one of the elderly doting aunts Danny seemed to have in abundance. He could not remember which one she was.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I've come about Daniel." It was Aunt Iris, then, the stern former high school principal who did not countenance nicknames. That stern composure seemed somewhat unsteady now.

"Something wrong?" He hoped his stern composure was steadier than hers. Women like Iris Jones didn't get shaky for trivial reasons. He felt a pang of concern, even fear - if Steve McGarrett could feel such a thing.

"It's about Daniel," she repeated. Then she plunged on talking quickly as if she needed the momentum to keep her going. "I don't understand and I don't approve but he's my nephew and I love him and he's very upset because I don't think he understands or approves either. He's at my beach home and he's very upset. I think you'd better go see him. I am very worried and I do not go to pieces over nothing. Oh dear." And she hurried out.

That was true. She was not the type to go to pieces even in the face of typhoons and volcanic eruptions. But she was damn' close to it now. That was more frightening than anything she could have said.

Iris Jones' beach house was on a narrow rocky coast that smacked as much of New England as Hawaii. The house was tall and Gothic, built at the turn of the century by a sea captain homesick for Massachusetts. There was an air of romantic melancholy about the house that Iris loved. It was not the best atmosphere for someone who was genuinely depressed, however. Danny's car was in the driveway but there were no lights on. No-one answered the bell or knocking. The door was unlocked so McGarrett let himself in. Except for the massive grandfather clock's ticking, no sound answered his shouts. He was having terrible thoughts, hysterical ones, to tell the truth. The path to the beach was steep and rough. The ocean never seemed calm. In truth he had only been here once and was most likely over-dramatising in his worry, but that knowledge didn't make him feel better. He wanted a cigarette. He wanted a beer. Most of all, he wanted Danny. If that was perverted, so be it. Damn it, it was the truth.

Footsteps on the back porch broke into his churning thoughts. The back door opened and Danny came in. He wore an attitude of gloom like a heavy grey cloak.

"Where in the hell have you been?"

Startled by the loud, accusing question, Danny looked up. Suddenly the grey was gone. But he was wary. "I've been down to the beach. What brings you here?"

"Your aunt was in my office. She was very worried about you. From what you've said about her and what little I remember she seemed an unlikely candidate for hysteria." I should talk.

Danny smiled fondly. "I'm afraid she has a soft spot where I'm concerned. I'm not sure what she thought I'd do, but ... " He shrugged and went to the refrigerator more for something to do than to find out what was inside. "What did you think?"

"If a woman like Iris Jones was in that condition I had to be concerned. You're a valuable agent and a good friend, and ... " he was going to say it. He knew damn' well he was and that he shouldn't. Danny was looking at him now, so young and innocent. "And I was afraid you'd do something stupid before I could tell you that I love you."

There was no sound. Even the clock and the sea seemed to fall silent. What now - a show of disgust, a curse, physical violence?

After a while Danny looked back in the refrigerator and said very slowly, "It was a long drive. Are you hungry? There's ... " Then suddenly he was in Steve's arms, clinging tightly. "Damn it, this isn't how it's supposed to be." He was shaking.

Steve touched his hair gently. It was soft and damp. "Yeah, I know, but this is how it is. And we're going to have to deal with it."

"Right. At least we can deal with it together now. You don't know how much better that makes me feel. If I'd had to go on wondering and hiding maybe Aunt Iris might not have been so wrong."

"Don't talk about it any more." He'd never even considered kissing another man before, but it seemed the natural thing to do next and the experience was mutually pleasant, so much so it was unnerving. "I'd better go now, Danno. I've got to go to work in the morning, and your aunt ... "

"She won't be back until the day after tomorrow. And you can always call in sick." He laughed shakily. "God, listen to me, I'm propositioning you."

"I don't mind."

"I've never made love to a man before."

"Neither have I. But we'll learn."

Danny's bedroom must have been the old sea captain's room. It still had a grandeur albeit somewhat down-at-heels. The almost but not quite pink light of dusk gave it a shadowy, other-worldly quality. The massive four poster was unmade. There was something oddly erotic about the tumble of white linen that seemed to glow in the grey light.

Steve realised he was shaking. Like I'm some kind of virgin. Then he realised that that was what he was in a way. This would be the first time. With the women he'd had he didn't feel this way. Maybe it was because he'd never really cared whether they liked it or not. He cared very much now.

Danny had undressed. He was a small man if somewhat overweight, but his erection was magnificent. Steve had thought it so often lately and now he finally said it. "You are so beautiful."

Danny began to unbutton his shirt. "I've waited for five years, Steve. I don't want to wait any more."

He wasn't really beautiful. Even now Steve wasn't so stupefied he believed it even though he said it with a tingling fervency. Then he thought of a Russian proverb. We do not love people because they are beautiful. They are beautiful because we love them. If that be the case, we're the two most goddamn' beautiful people in the world.

The lovemaking was awkward and eager but for all that very tender. The kisses and caresses given and received served their purpose to please and to push their already aching passion further. There was so much to explore; to touch, to taste. Gender ceased to be important. That they were lovers was all that mattered. And he was going to die. The delicious agony he was going through could only end that way. He didn't care, he didn't care, just let it go on a little longer, just a little longer. Then Danny said, "Oh god," and the hot sticky juices flooded over Steve's hand. That did it. A silent explosion of fire and he erupted too. It was frightening and beautiful and then only beautiful. He held Danny tightly, stroking his hair, savouring the slowly fading waves of orgasm.

"Five years I've waited," Danny went on. "That's how long it's been since I stopped believing my lies. But I've gone on telling them anyway until tonight. The truth doesn't always hurt."

"No, not always. But it can. We probably love each other more than most people who had or will have sex tonight, but that's not the bottom line. Society isn't going to accept it. The State of Hawaii certainly won't."

Danny dozed off against his shoulder. Steve kissed his forehead.

"But it'll wait," he said quietly. "I don't want to care about it tonight. I just want to care about you."

He awoke at dawn. The room was full of pink light. It spilled across the bed making Danny curled up beside him look young and angelic. Steve wanted to kiss him but decided not to disturb him. Quietly he got out of bed and gathered up his clothes which had been left in a heap on the floor. Everything was wrinkled. He picked out only the basics and left the rest no more neatly on a chair than they had been on the floor. Glancing back to be sure he hadn't disturbed Danny, he went to take a shower.

The warm water and soap washed away the physical residue of last night but it was still on his mind. The pleasure of it and the worry. He went downstairs and made coffee but he couldn't stand just sitting there in the quiet empty room. A cool breeze came off the sea through the kitchen windows and he could hear the tide coming in. Cup in hand he went down to the beach to sort things out.

The hour and the remoteness of the place pretty much assured him of privacy. Even if a passing boater saw him he wouldn't be recognised. Hell, he hardly recognised himself in the mirror this morning. He had barely combed his hair and hadn't shaved. Yesterday's suit pants and undershirt did not make for a very dignified ensemble and he was barefoot. All in all, he looked like a bum. Strangely enough, this disreputable persona gave him a feeling of liberation. Maybe, he thought as he sat on the damp sand and watched the ocean, he missed his calling. Maybe he was born to be a bum. His father always thought so. The old man would be spinning in his grave now, and his mother would be wandering around beyond the pale wondering out loud where she'd gone wrong. His sister, though, she wouldn't like it but she'd accept it because she loved him. But she wasn't going to know nor was anybody else. What his parents did beyond the grave didn't matter. They couldn't tell the governor. He took a deep drink of coffee and forced his mind to a more practical channel.

"Steve." Danny touched his shoulder. "If you're going back to Honolulu ... "

Steve put his hand over Danny's. "I'm not going back. They owe me at least ten years of sick time. Today is a good day to call them on it. Look like a bum, act like a bum." He stood up and stretched. "I could get to like it."

Danny put his arms around him. "Yeah, you do look like a bum," he said. "But you'll never be one."

"Maybe just a little now and then." He held Danny tightly. "No. No, I shouldn't. We should go back to Honolulu and forget about the last couple weeks. Just go back to the way it was."

"No, I don't want to do that. I don't think I can. I've loved you and wanted you too long. But ... " he looked into Steve's eyes, "if that's what you want, I'll try."

Those blue eyes and the warmth of his body started Steve's blood racing again. He kissed Danny hard. "We'll just have to be careful," he said.

Danny smiled and touched his cheek. "For God's sake, Steve, use my razor. In the meantime, I'll fix us some breakfast."

"As long as it's not pepperoni pizza and light beer."

"You'll never let me forget that, will you?"

"Maybe in a couple of years."

After breakfast he lied to Chin. It wasn't easy to be convincing. From the telephone stand he could see Danny clearing the table. In tight cut-offs the kid had a nice rear, and Steve was both excited and appalled by what the thought made him want to do.

"You take care," Chin was saying.

"Yes. Yes, I will."

He hung up the phone and went back to his thoughts. There was no sense in denying them any more. The truth was out, and as Danny had said the truth didn't always hurt. There were a lot of years' worth of repressed desire set free. It felt like at least a hundred.

"Danny. Do you have a minute?"

He came to the doorway. His grin made it obvious he knew why he was being called. "How many do you need?"

"Seven hundred and twenty."

"God damn."

The room was brightly lit now, no ethereal light tricks of dawn or dusk. Danny didn't suffer even a little for it. He didn't need tricks of light and shadow to make him beautiful. He was very tan, the whiteness of the linen emphasising it. Below the tan line he was very fair and dark blond. Under Steve's caressing hands the tan seemed warmer than the pale and rougher. The contrast was interesting and erotic. He explored it thoroughly. The musky odour and sweet taste were maddening. Although in the past he had found the idea somewhat repugnant, he took Danny's throbbing erection in his mouth. His tongue traced the contours eagerly, the silky tip with its sweet droplets of fluid, the rough veining of the shaft and the circumcision scar of the underside. Danny began to thrust eagerly.

"No, not yet." Roughly Steve turned him over. This was what he had wanted to do all along. Far away a voice from his past remonstrated with him for it but the roaring of desire soon drowned it out.

Danny resisted instinctively even though he was aroused, but Steve was in no mood to respect that resistance. He forced his way past the sphincter muscle into the warmth of his lover's body. The very tightness was an aphrodisiac. It hurt. Danny groaned in pain and spat; "You damn son of a bitching bastard, you're hurting me." "Shut up, damn you." Then suddenly there came the relaxation, the caressing acceptance. The groans were softer and no longer painful. "Don't stop, please. I love you." He was beyond stopping anyway, but the soft impassioned plea made the already soaring passion reach impossible heights. And the plunge into the maelstrom of fire and light and wild delicious pain was so sudden and powerful it rocked him physically as well as sensually. He was afraid he'd faint. He was afraid he'd die. He did the former for a moment; at least he lost touch with reality momentarily. Then he became vaguely aware of a quiet disturbing sound. He realised Danny was crying.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I didn't mean to hurt you so much."

Danny managed to laugh and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He was sparkling in the sunlight with sweat and tears. He took a corner of the sheet and wiped Steve's face tenderly. Until then Steve didn't realise tears were pouring down his face as well.

"It's not because it hurt. It's because I've wanted you to make love to me like that for so long I didn't know what else to do when it finally happened." He relaxed against the pillows with his hands behind his head. "When I had a few too many beers I'd let my fantasies out, and one of them was to have you want me like that. I'd plot ways to seduce you. Then when I'd sober up I'd pack the fantasies away." He looked up at Steve seriously. "If you hadn't ever fallen for me I think I'd have eventually become an alcoholic. It was getting harder and harder to hide. The night your nephew died and you cried I wanted you so bad and was so ashamed of myself for it that I got drunk on my ass. I think one of Chin's kids saw me and called him. He's a kind man. He took me home and cleaned me up and put me to bed. I don't really remember it but I think he scolded me like a father scolding a dim-witted wayward son."

"He never mentioned it."

"I'd have been in trouble, wouldn't I? He didn't want that."

"Yes, you would have been, and I probably would have been tough on you. I had walls to keep up. I couldn't let even the smallest crack appear. Then one night I was too tired to build walls."

"And the walls came tumbling down."

"Yeah. The next thing I knew I was sitting in your apartment thinking about you in the shower and getting so damn hard I was sure you'd notice."

"I wish I would have. I hate cold showers. I damn near froze to death."

They both subsided into a light but comfortable sleep. When Steve woke up it was past noon. Danny was no longer there but that was all right. The furious passion had mellowed. He was content to lie quietly and remember for a while. As his grasp of reality tightened he became aware that he needed a shower again and the bed needed changing. It was stained with sweat and semen and smelled warm and musky. The odour wasn't unpleasant to him at the moment but he realised that it probably was.

He took his time in the shower and combed his hair afterwards. Right now he couldn't bear the idea of putting two day old dirty clothes back on so he borrowed Danny's robe. It fit ridiculously but it was clean. Then he stripped the bed to the mattress and took it and his dirty clothes downstairs.

"The laundry room is in the basement, sleeping beauty," Danny said when he saw him and added; "Great legs."

"Shut up, kid."

It was a dull afternoon but a pleasant dullness. They didn't make love again. An occasional kiss or a touch was enough for now. It had not been just a fling or an experiment. They were quite definitely in love and it was a calming, stabilising thing.

Early that evening Steve knew he had to leave. He really did have to go back to the office in the morning, and if he spent the night here he wouldn't be in any shape to drive back to Honolulu in the morning and still put in a day's work.

"I'll come back with you, Steve."

"No. You finish out your vacation just like any other vacation. Things have to look the same. We have to be so careful, Danny. And that's going to be hard as hell."

"I know." They kissed goodbye. "Next time we're together, I'm going to screw the hell out of you, Steven Edward. Count on that."

"Don't think I won't hold you to it, kid."

Steve McGarrett walked out to his car feeling lighter of heart and easier of mind than he had felt in longer than he could remember. He was loved. God in heaven, he was loved, and it would be worth all the hardships it was bound to bring.

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