Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

Professional Boundaries

Steve and Kono meet on a beach in Hawaii. Or a bar in Australia. Depending on how you look at it.

A/N: Thanks to Diana (cm757) for her unwavering support throughout the writing of this story. You know this wouldn't have happened without you.

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"Ho brah." The guy turns and has a split second to duck—but doesn't. Fucking tourists. "Think twice next time you want to drop in on someone's wave." She warns. Is it still a warning if she's already punched him? Whatever. It's educational. You know, a learning experience, a chance for him to evolve and shit.

She picks up her surfboard, planning to walk away dramatically, at least give the guy a story to go with the bruised ego, but Chin is there. She decides dramatic exits are overrated anyway.

She greets Chin enthusiastically, for no particular reason other than he's been avoiding her, in some misguided hope he'll get out of attending her graduation dinner—which, by the way, so not happening. Chin is going if she has to drug him, put him in her trunk and cuff him to a chair.

They commiserate over the general stupidity of tourists and then she looks at the guys standing behind him.

"Kono. Meet Commander Steve McGarrett and Detective Danny Williams." Chin introduces, and Kono turns to shake the Commander's hand, ready to be all polite and professional—you know, if you kindly ignore the fact that she's wearing a bathing suit. But then she recognizes the guy.

Fuck. Me.

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There's a girl at the bar sipping a bottle of generic beer and staring absent mindedly at the TV. She looks young but she's drinking so he guesses nineteen, twenty? Which is still pretty young, just not enough to make him look away. Hey, fuck you, it's been a long dry spell, okay? You don't get to judge.

Besides, she's hot. She's wearing jean shorts and her legs are toned, her skin tanned from hours of sunlight. He wonders idly if she has any tan lines. He wonders whether he'll get to find out.

There are other girls there; a blonde has even been throwing glances his way for a while but fuck it. If he's picking up girls at bars now, he might as well go for the one he's been trying to imagine naked since he walked in.

He picks up his drink and walks over, sits on the stool next to hers.

"You need another drink?" He asks, gesturing the bartender for a refill without waiting for her answer. Asshole move, but whatever.

She turns to look at him, startled, ready to be offended. Stares at him for a second, then rolls her eyes. "Sure."

Yeah. He gets away with this a lot.

"I'm Steve." There's a small pause, like she's considering ignoring him, but basic civility works in his favor.

"Kono."

"It's nice to meet you." He says politely. What? Fuck you, man. He doesn't do pick-up lines.

"Right." She nods, turning to look back at the TV. She doesn't look all that impressed at this point.

"So, you're here on vacation?" He asks, genuinely curious. She looks like she could be from the islands. But maybe he's getting nostalgic and imagining things. He hasn't been back in…how many years now?

"Nope." She replies. "Here for the surfing competition."

He almost asks if she's a fan, but acting like an asshole won't help his case any. He's just in a crappy mood because he's been stood up in Australia. Catherine was supposed to take some time off, meet him there, but called to cancel after he'd already landed in a different continent. So he's stuck here for the weekend. Alone.

Unless he can persuade this girl otherwise.

"You're competing?" He asks instead, and when she nods he's sort of impressed. Okay. He's very impressed. She seems to pick up on it, gives him a satisfied smile. Yeah. People have underestimated this girl a lot—and she has enjoyed proving them wrong.

He's kind of turned on right now.

"How about you?" She asks genuinely, and what do you know? He might stand a chance after all.

"I'm on leave, just here for the weekend."

She lets out a muffled snort, shaking her head.

"What?" Steve asks warily.

"Nothing!" She defends, laughing. "It's just—does that work for you? The whole soldier back from the war routine?" She asks incredulously.

"I'm in the Navy, actually." He feels the need to clarify. This is not going at all how he'd hoped.

"Of course. Right. What am I saying? Of course it works for you." She shakes her head again, as if deeply disappointed that anyone would fall for that line. Or that anyone would use it, for that matter.

"I wouldn't know." He says honestly. He doesn't try to talk complete strangers into sleeping with him that often. "Is it working on you?"

She turns towards him, studying his face for a bit. "Maybe." She admits finally, sounding reluctant. Her smile looks a bit self-deprecating, as if she should know better than this.

Steve smiles back. That's okay, sweetheart, he thinks. I can be very persuasive.

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They go back to his hotel because it's closer than hers, act real casual on the way up to his room. No inappropriate PDA in the elevator for the Commander. That's right. Turns out he really is in the Navy. Who would have guessed?

He lets her walk in first, closes the door behind them and takes a step closer to her, then another, until he backs her to the wall. His face is completely blank, and he's making her nervous so she tries to lighten the mood before she talks herself out of this completely.

"Hey." She smiles, wondering if they can skip the awkward part of the evening and get straight to the touching part.

"Hey." He says in a low voice and that's just completely unnecessary, brah, cause she's already decided to sleep with him. She doesn't need any more convincing. He moves closer, presses his body against hers. Her breath catches, and he leans down, kisses her with careful deliberation.

He takes off her clothes slowly, moves them to the bed. When she tries to help with the undressing he laughs like she's being ridiculous, tells her to slow down, let him do all the work. She tries to relax, tries to be okay with this, but it feels off somehow, too intimate, too leisurely for a one night stand. This actually feels more intimate than some of her relationships so far.

He kisses her and it helps until she looks at him again, and he looks starved for things she's not sure she's able to give. She opens her mouth to tell him to stop, make up an excuse, anything, but he kisses her again. He hooks her leg higher up his back then thrusts inside and she grabs at the sheets and forgets what she was thinking about. It's slow; he keeps whispering things in her ear and she doesn't even believe half of the stuff he's saying but—god, it's so fucking hot.

He falls asleep still half on top of her, and she tries to nudge him off for about fifteen minutes before she gives up. It still takes her a while to get to sleep. When she wakes up, it's about five, and he's on the other side of the bed. She counts her blessings and gets up to leave, gathering her clothes silently.

She feels weird. Overexposed, maybe. She's still not sure this turned out so great. The sex was hot and there was barely any meaningful conversation, which she understands is pretty much what you look for in this sort of thing.

Still. She thought it would have been a bit more impersonal, a little less…real maybe. But no. Shows what she knows about this stuff, she thinks, shaking her head. Relationships.

She looks at Steve sprawled all over the bed and considers leaving a note or something but, really, she doesn't want him to call. She wants to take a shower and then pretend this never happened.

Honestly. She should just stick to surfing—it's the only thing she's good at.

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She stares at Steve for a second and then snaps out of it, turning to shake the detective's hand, but it's too late because Chin's already noticed. Of course he noticed. Fuck.

"Something wrong?" He asks, worried.

"No, brah. Everything's fine." She says simply, even though it's probably not. It kind of depends on a lot of things right now, like how Chin knows Commander McGarrett and what they're all doing here and if Steve recognizes her.

Chin does not look convinced. He furrows his brow, ready to keep pushing, which can only make things more awkward for everyone involved, but Steve intervenes.

"I'm sorry." He says, completely casual. Yeah right. "I think we've met before?" He asks, and Kono can tell he remembers even though he phrased it like a question.

"Right. Yeah. I remember." She confirms, trying not to look as uncomfortable with subject as she is. Chin is still watching, suspicious. "It's nice to see you again, Commander." She adds, trying to make it sound like they'd met in some official capacity and not fucked in his hotel room.

"You too." Steve nods politely, but he looks tense and serious. Fuck. This must be work related; he must know Chin from the job somehow. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Let her reiterate: fuck.

"Exactly how small is this island?" Detective Williams asks incredulously, looking exasperated.

Wait a minute.

Is he wearing a tie?

Seriously?

"When was this?" Chin interjects in a careful voice that tells her he's not buying this shit.

"A few years ago." She explains vaguely and then decides to change the subject. Chin might try to bring it up later but at least there won't be an audience. "You needed something?"

"Your cousin tells us you're graduating from the police academy next week." Steve says immediately, almost as eager as her for a change of topic. "How'd you like to earn a little extra credit before you do?"

Right. So this is about work. Fucking spectacular.

"I'm listening."

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