Summary: Steve and Catherine had to say goodbye rather abruptly when she was sent to the gulf. What happens till they meet up in Mumbai, and how they cope with missing each other.

To Guest (missing prompt): Thanks for the prompt. This is what sprung from it. I hope you'll like it.

A/N: Many thanks to Miahbug who kindly beta-ed this story.

Two Hearts

(Hawaii)

Letting her go was never the hard part – it was just a part of their lives. Always on the jump, always rushing off to follow orders and instructions, always careful to toe the line of the navy regs, even though he wasn't technically her commanding officer. Letting go had never been hard, not seeing each other was. Sometimes for months. Letting go had never been hard, not seeing each other was especially since the absence could go on for months. It cut him a little every time he thought about her during their time apart. Missing her was the hard part. He'd always missed her, but while that had been disconcerting at first, now it was a sign of how deep their connection had become. He never counted the days she was gone or backwards until she'd be back, because the huge number always put him off.

When he had seen her in his office, the uniform had told him that something was wrong. The blow to his trust by Joe's betrayal had hurt, but it had quickly been overcome by the crushing feeling of knowing she'd be far from him soon. Steve hadn't been sure he believed it. Catherine had only just arrived the day before; they had not even managed to get five minutes together yet (where he wasn't asking her for a favor), and then he had really looked forward to those Kobe steaks. He'd looked forward to sitting down with her, and talk – just talk – for hours. They were good at that. Catherine understood him like no one else. She reached a level of him that no one else ever touched. He could spill his guts to her without even being prompted. When he was around her and only her, he felt like he could open up about anything, and he did.

When they were together, it was just the two of them even with an entire crowd around them. From the moment he lost his mother, very few people had been a constant in his life. Joe White, some friends in the SEALs and Catherine. He hadn't wanted the real thing, as Frank had once put it, hadn't been looking for it, but even he had known that Catherine was it. He still had to tell her, though. He kept putting it off. There was never the right moment; the two of them were always rushing off to somewhere, they were.

Watching her walk out of his office, he'd almost fessed up, but it hadn't been the right moment then either. She deserved better than to have a deep confession flung at her while she stood in a door, about to leave. So he waited, hoping the right moment would come when he saw her next.

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(Gulf)

The first couple of nights, she turned restlessly in her bed. She had known the minute she first laid her head on her pillow that sleep would not find her that night. She had tried nonetheless, because her kind of work required a rested mind, but all she had managed to do was toss and turn. The two thens make this awkward. Try - The blanket had first ended up wrapped around her like a cocoon, then been moved through her legs when she felt too warm, and finally had been thrown aside completely when she had given up on the idea of sleep. Now Catherine was lying face up on her bunk staring at the bottom of the bunk above her. She wondered if she had kept her roommate awake with her endless turning.

Nothing but silence drifted down from above. The room was too silent for Lieutenant Sanders to be asleep. A sliver of guilt made its way to her stomach, but she couldn't really help it. She couldn't sleep, because something was missing. She missed Steve's warm, solid body next to hers. Even though they quite often managed to untangle during the course of the night, she always fell asleep within the security of his arms when she was on Oahu, and while she had only been there for two short days, and they hadn't actually managed to get together aside from when he asked her for a favor, she still felt the need to be close to him. She missed him, missed having him next to her in a large, comfier bed than what she had here at base. It was roomier than her bunk on the ship, but nothing compared to the sun-flooded master bedroom at his house.

There were no waves here to sing her to sleep, nor was there the soft tickle of his breath evening out against her skin. There were no strong arms to hold her so gently as if he feared she might break, or so firmly as if he expected her to be whisked away at any moment after a particularly draining case. There was no steady heartbeat against which to lay her cheek as it lulled her tired mind. There were no smiles and carguments carried into the house by Steve and Danny, no surfing with Kono or working on a bike with Chin. No favors asked, and no meetings, feeling almost clandestine, to bring them together.

Here there was only the nagging doubt whether he had meant what he said when they parted in his office. She was over-thinking it, she knew, but she couldn't help but wonder if he would really fly halfway around the world just to see her for her forty-eight hours leave. When he had first suggested the idea, she had been elated that he didn't want to just let what they had slip away, but then she had seen her, and the doubts had come. She had known, of course, that his team had a new member. What she had not counted on was how Lori Weston looked at Steve; like a word would suffice, and she would be his, and in her darker moments Catherine worried that Steve might want that, too. Lori was certainly more available than her. Pretty, too, and smart enough to challenge him and make him smile at the same time.

Catherine raised both hands to cover her face. So she had taken a peak at Steve's new colleague's file – stalker much? God, she couldn't believe she'd stoop so low. Surely, Steve would tell her if he didn't want to continue their... whatever it was. In a sense they'd always been in a relationship without ever acknowledging it, but there had been times when it had not been entirely solid, and of course it had to do with the long stretches of time between their intermittent and rather short encounters. Seeing Lori, she wasn't sure if Steve's proposal wasn't just a way to let her down lightly as he had done before Amsterdam when he'd said he'd contact her, and they'd both known he would do no such thing.

That situation had eventually resolved itself; they'd gotten back together somehow. Catherine raked her nails down her face lightly as she tried for what seemed like the millionth time to figure out exactly how they'd re-established their bond, and came up empty again. Maybe the situation with Lori would work itself out as well, but she'd rather not go through the in-between again. What she had with Commander Harrison had been real at the time, not merely a rebound, and she'd never regret it, but he'd never been what or even who she truly wanted. And now that man might be right back at their starting point before Amsterdam. If his suggestion really had only been an excuse, she couldn't tell. His eyes had been sincere, and the hug he'd given her was filled with the same longing she had felt herself, but would that last?

"You're thinking to loud," a grouchy voice mumbled from above.

Catherine blinked, the bottom of the upper bunk coming into view again. She looked to the side, and found Patricia Sanders looking down at her tiredly.

"I can basically see the cogs turning. You know, whatever trouble you and that SEAL have in paradise, you're not gonna solve it by not sleeping."

"I know."

"And I'd actually like to sleep as well."

"I know," Catherine replied more lightly, smiling up at her friend. Patricia grumbled, and rolled over on her bunk again.

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(Hawaii)

She'd love it here.

When he entered the mixed martial arts training studio, the thought just hit him. Lots of toys to play with, lots of people to spar with, and most of them guys who wouldn't take her seriously until she'd knock them on their asses without breaking a sweat. He wasn't even exaggerating, because that was basically how they'd met.

He knew Catherine would appreciate what Griffin and Martel were trying to do here; give young people hope for the future. So when he had to arrest Martel for murdering his brother-in-law, Steve felt a pang go through him at the expression on the sister's face. The news had broken something in her, and the SEAL was reminded of a look Catherine had given him when he had broken off their relationship once at the beginning, or maybe the middle, who even knew anymore. She'd taken it pretty well as far as appearances were concerned, but something in her eyes had wrecked him with guilt.

"Yeah, okay... I understand," had been all she had said. Her eyes had glanced at him only furtively. Then she'd turned around, and walked away at a slow, almost awkward pace. Looking back, he thought she might have hoped that he would call her back, because when he didn't, she had quickened her steps to get away from him. He'd thought about calling for her. Her name had almost slipped from his lips, but he couldn't. Not when he'd be calling her back for the very same reason he was sending her off. He'd realized that she meant something to him beyond being a good friend and a great lover. She had been becoming something more, and it sent him running. He took the coward's way out, and pulled the emergency brake.

When he had heard rumors that she was seeing someone, he had brushed it off. It hadn't been his concern anymore. Seeing her with Harrison, though, had pulled at him. They had been in a bar, and he'd been restless ever since he and the guys had sat down. Then his eyes had fallen on her as she was laughing. She had looked beautiful. A low rumbling laughter had drawn his attention to her company, and made his blood freeze. She'd been at the bar with Lieutenant Harrison, a beer being passed casually between the two of them, and the way he touched her arm so comfortably, Steve could tell that he knew Catherine intimately. The knowledge had pulled at his heartstrings. The beer in his hand had started to shake slightly.

Suddenly there had been a hand on his arm.

"She looks happy. Let it go," Mick had told him.

"I already have. I'm happy for her." He hadn't even convinced himself.

When Lori was preparing him for the charity fight, he was barely listening, caught up in thought of long ago. Steve knew Danny had asked her to talk him out of it, but she didn't attempt that. It was something he found he liked about his new teammate. She was down to earth, and supported him in every decision he made one-hundred percent. An uneasy feeling inside told him that this would get her in trouble some day, but for now she was there and she was a great ally. Nonetheless, the SEAL couldn't help but wish there were someone else in her place, a woman with softer features and much darker hair framing her face. Now she was out there again, and he was left waiting. Waiting for a moment when he could tell her everything that was eating away at his insides, and the day couldn't come soon enough. Steve smiled as their compromise came to mind. He couldn't wait for Mumbai.

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(Gulf)

It wasn't like she thought about him all the time. When she was working, she barely thought of anything at all that didn't have something to do with the images, data or reports she was wading through to get that one nugget of gold to pass on. When she was focused on satellite imagery in an attempt to find whichever number of the black list, her mind was so completely consumed with what was right in front of her that she barely even heard all the noise of other people working around her.

One day she came across pictures taken by a patrol as they passed a village, and came under attack. Six of their comrades had died or been injured. It was hard to watch for everyone, but all Catherine could think about was the time they'd been told that a SEAL had gone missing in action, and she'd known without a doubt that it was Steve. It took her about half an hour to confirm her suspicion. Her heart had plummeted into her stomach and stayed there as she waited for news: someone to declare him dead, a ransom demand, a broadcast of his execution by some terrorist cell. His people had been ambushed just like these soldiers had been, and he'd been separated from his squad during the attack. It had taken them over sixty hours to make contact with him.

When they finally brought him in, and she had got some spare time to visit him, she hadn't known whether to kiss him or to kill him. Either would have gotten her into real trouble with her superiors, so she settled for quietly sitting down by his bedside. He'd smiled at her, and she'd felt a great weight lift of her chest. When he had joined the reserves, she'd thought maybe she could stop worrying about him now, but of course he'd chosen an equally dangerous job on land. When she got to know his team, she was grateful that he had such an ohana to look after him. Still, she missed not being able to help him. At times during his work as a SEAL, Catherine had functioned as his contact in Intelligence, and they'd worked well together. Naturally, he still asked her for favors here and there, but somehow it wasn't the same.

So when she watched the men come under fire, take cover to defend themselves, and then go down one by one, she felt her gut clench uncomfortably. This could have been Steve years ago, and it could still be him today. Worry made its way into her heart, and, once she had a free minute, she slipped her phone out of her pocket. Her thumb hovered over the call button for nearly a minute as she stared at the goofy picture of Steve on her smart phone. Catherine bit her lip; she knew he was okay. If something truly bad had happened, Danny would have called her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she ought to call him. Part of her was still worried, part of her was just curious. Would he be glad to hear from her? Had he missed her too? Would he even be the one to answer his phone? She shook her head clear of those thoughts, and pocketed the cell again. If she called him now, it wouldn't be out of worry, not really. It would be out of curiosity and longing. And God, did she miss him. She just wanted to hear his voice, just once, even if it was just his voice mail.

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(North Korea)

Lori had hugged him when they reached the chopper. Sitting less than a foot from her during the flight to safe territory, that was all Steve could think of, and it did not fill him with confidence, appreciation or tenderness. Sure, he had noticed that their newest team member flirted with him on occasion. He had flirted back happily, but it had never meant anything to him in a deeper sense. It had always been a nice distraction, a form of friendly chatter. He liked Lori, but he didn't like her. Not like she deserved, and he wasn't available anyway.

He wondered if Lori knew that. He wondered if Catherine knew that.

Maybe he shouldn't have played the game. Maybe he had been leading her on. The way she was looking at him at that moment, the tender way in which she had hugged him... he couldn't reciprocate that. If she had to go back to the mainland, he would be sorry, but he wouldn't particularly miss her. It wasn't like he missed Catherine with a bone-crushing, paralyzing ache every day, but he did feel her absence – at times so strongly it was hard to concentrate on anything else, hard to find the motivation to move. Lori was attractive, but looking at her made him want to see someone else when he turned away.

He'd been talking to Lori when he'd seen Catherine stand in his office on that day. Maybe his mind had connected the two things. He couldn't look at Lori sometimes without feeling a slight ache in his heart. He tended to tell himself to stop being ridiculous in those moments. It wasn't like he needed Catherine to function, but, then again, he did. At least according to Danny he did. His partner sustained that he functioned better – almost like a human being, in the man's own words – when she was around. His mammal-to-mammal skills improved as did his mood, or so he had been told by the detective on several occasions.

Steve would certainly admit, at least to himself, that he was happier when Catherine was around. She made him feel more whole, though that made little sense as he wasn't crippled by her absence. Yet a part of him went with her every time they parted. He felt that she left part of herself with him too. Therefore, he pulled Lori aside in a brief moment they had alone once in Seoul with the intention to set her straight. He didn't even finish taking a breath to speak, before she cut him off.

"Nothing can ever come of this, can it?", she asked, but it really sounded more like a statement, and she goes on immediately. "It's that woman – the one in your office a couple of weeks ago? You two are together, aren't you?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he said automatically. Even to him it sounded like something he must have been studying in front of a mirror. Lori gave him a skeptic look. He tried to avoid her scrutiny; he didn't need his relationship to Catherine psycho-analyzed. He already knew he had commitment issues. "Catherine and I go way back. Calling her my girlfriend would be like calling the USS Enterprise a boat."

"Did you seriously just compare her to an aircraft carrier?"

"Inadequate," he clarified.

Lori still raised an eyebrow.

"You must mean a lot to her if she's willing to put up with being compared to a ship." There was a wistful look in Lori's eyes that he recognized all too well from having seen on himself a couple of times when Catherine had to leave and he hadn't been there. She would always leave him a note on the bathroom mirror. Her parting words would always be 'Get back in one piece, sailor'. She found it hilarious.

"She means a lot to me, too."

"Yeah, I can see how you miss her. It's clear on your face."

That took him aback.

"Not always. Sometimes, though... when you think nobody's looking, you just seem like you want to be a million miles away."

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(Gulf)

What the military passed for food at times, needed to be weaponized. Catherine furrowed her brow as she kept staring down at what was supposed to be meat loaf. She was sure it wasn't bad, but something inside her recoiled at the side. The small hill of overcooked vegetables to one side of her plate did not stir her appetite either. She scrunched up her nose at the ensemble mindlessly poking at her food with the fork. She shifted it here and there while she attempted to find it in her to start eating.

"What were you expecting, Kitten? Kobe steaks?", Mick asked her as he continued to watch her play with her foot.

The words startled Catherine out of her contemplation of whether or not the stuff on her plate was edible, and threw her into a bucket worth of memories. She smiled at the thought of Steve still owing her those steaks, and she could feel her mouth water a little. Without thinking, she put some of the meat loaf inside her mouth. It wasn't Kobe steak obviously, and Mick wasn't Steve, but it was nice not to eat alone or with colleagues who actually did the same work as her, because they could typically talk of nothing else.

Mick seemed to sense her train of thought, because his eyes took on an amused and somewhat pitying look. Catherine glared at him mockingly; she didn't like being pitied, but she couldn't help but admit it was warranted. She had really been looking forward to those Kobe steaks and not just for the potential sex involved. She would have made damn sure that they made it to dinner this time, and she would have enjoyed herself immensely. Contrary to her own quip, they had actually made it to dinner once or twice, and Steve had been proven to be a perfect gentleman on those occasions. He would pick her up with flowers in hand, and a compliment ready on his lips- eventually. He would escort her to their place of dining, pull out her chair for her, and brush his fingers across her cheek or shoulder as he went over to his own seat.

She felt a sense of loss as she thought about what dinner could have been like. He would have watched her eat and teased her. He would have wined and dined her properly, and never taken his eyes off of her. The whole evening she would have been the focus of his attention, and it would have made her tingle all over long before their food would have arrived. Her heart clenched at the thought. She would have loved to spend an evening just talking to him, or even sitting in companionable silence. Who knew when they'd next get the chance to do so, or even if they would. Catherine could feel a single tear roll down her cheek as she thought about how much she wanted him to be there with her right now, instead of having thousands of miles separate them. She quickly turned her face away in hopes of hiding her anguish from Mick.

The SEAL caught sight of the tear nonetheless, and raised a hand to her cheek to wipe it away. He knew he had to remove his hand; they were in their work environment, and regulations were strict. He did take the time to briefly squeeze Catherine's hand, though. He wasn't completely sure what brought her to tears exactly, but he could wager a guess. He knew she'd barely been stateside when she got called to the gulf. He was sure she and McGarrett must have had plans; no doubt another favor he asked her just so he could owe her dinner. Not that she knew that was the reason Smooth Dog kept asking for them. It was his way of binding her to him, getting her to come back now and again to collect on his debts. For two so intelligent people, they weren't half thick at times. McGarrett ought to know better than to think he needed to ask favors to get her to come back. Catherine would run into his arms willingly if only he'd invite her. Catherine, for her part, should really have figured out by now that Steve needing her had nothing to do with her access to military equipment or her good looks. Judging by the distraught look on her face, she had no clue. He sighed. Maybe it was time to play Cupid after all.

"You know he's crazy about you, don't you?", Mick asked seriously. Catherine threw him a look he decided to ignore. "What's on your mind, Kitten? Cause it sure as hell isn't about steaks."

She sighed.

"It's nothing... just... I was really looking forward to it, you know," she told him. "You see, when we have dinner..."

Mick's eyebrow raised.

"Shut up! I mean real dinner."

"You actually manage that?", Jack piped up from her left side, and she elbowed him none too gently in the ribs.

"Of course we do... sometimes," she had to amend with a blush. Damn those SEALs for knowing them so well. "Anyway, when we have dinner... it feels real. It's the only time he ever talks about himself without being prompted. What I say or what he sees happening in the restaurant, anything will jog his memory, and he'll just... talk, you know. About his childhood on the island or about his dreams and hopes and fears. Never about his missions of course, and never about us, but when it's just us that doesn't seem to matter. It's when he opens up to me, and I love that. I love that he's comfortable enough to do that."

She swallowed another bite.

"And I missed out on that this time. That... just bugs me, I guess. I feel like something is missing. A part of me feels empty somehow."

She looks up at them with haunted eyes. The bags underneath them have eased slightly since she first arrived. The longer she stayed, the more sleep she got, but she is still disappointed every night when she sees that her bed is empty and cold. She pauses in front of the door every evening, her hand on the knob, fighting down the hope to see him standing in the middle of the room waiting for her. She never manages, not completely, and it tears at her heart when she finally opens the door to nobody.

"I'm sure he'll make it up to you," Mick murmured softly.

Here's to hope, she thought, not convinced.

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(Hawaii/Gulf)

The line clicked, and Catherine's soft voice came through the line tiredly. He smiled to himself. Scheduling a call was always difficult when they were in such different time zones; someone was bound to be a bit out of it. Her voice betrayed her smile, though. She was happy to hear from him, no matter the time he called. He leaned back further into his couch. He had agonized over making this call or not for a bit. He had rarely been able to call her when they were parted before due to the secretive nature of his work for the SEALs, so it had just never become a habit. Steve had decided that he couldn't let this opportunity pass, though.

"So, what favor do you need this time?", Catherine asked a little sarcastically. It made him laugh, Even tired she could still gripe at him, and never mean it. It was something that he loved about his woman.

"Nothing, just calling to say hello."

"Since when do you do that?"

"I have done it before," he continued their banter.

"Rarely, and you were usually in hospital recovering from an injury... You're okay, aren't you?", she asked, clearly worried.

"I'm fine, Cath. Nothing's wrong," he promised, and her sigh of relief on the other end of the line told him she believed him. This was his opening. He couldn't tell her everything, not over the phone; it wouldn't be fair to her, but this was another opportunity he couldn't let slip away. "I just miss you."

He heard her sharp intake of breath as he waited for her answer. Despite leaning back against the couch only moments ago, he suddenly found himself sitting upright. He was barely breathing, and his heart rate had picked up dramatically. The tiny pump was drumming away in his chest as if it were trying to jump out from it. He'd never said those words to her before. He had always felt it, eventually admitted it to himself, but he'd never clued her in. He didn't always call for a favor, but he could understand why she got that impression. Thinking back on it, every other phone call truly had come from a hospital, and sometimes he hadn't even been the one calling to tell her he was injured.

"I miss you too, Steve. Every time." The tenderness in her voice brought him out of his reverie. She had spoken so softly, he had barely heard her.

"Yeah? What do you miss?"

"Don't fish for compliments." Catherine was biting back laughter; he could hear it.

"Alright, I'll start. I miss your smile, and your griping at me, though you're doing a damn good job over the phone as well. I miss your sarcasm, your humor, your-"

"Flattery will get you anywhere, sailor."

"It's not flattery if it's true."

"Is it?", she breathed. He took a moment, so the answer could fully sink in with her.

"Yes."

He could almost see her standing in front of him, smiling at the answer. The line was silent for the moment, yet it was a pleasant silence. He imagined her biting her lip gently as she tried to hide the effect his compliment was having on her. One hand was gripping the phone she held to her ear, and the other must be twisted in her shirt. She had one leg straight, barely touching the floor with her toes on the other. Just like that, he could see her in the room with him, and imagine that she truly was there with him. He could imagine her going upstairs to change into something more appropriate for their dinner date with her Kobe steaks. Catherine loved great food; it didn't have to be expensive, though. She'd be happy having a beer at Joe's most of the time. Sometimes, though, even a navy woman wanted to be wined and dined, and he actually looked forward to doing that for her. The fancy dress she'd be wearing didn't help either.

"I wish I could see your face right now," she whispered.

"To see if I'm sincere," he joked.

"No, because then I'd be with you."

"...I wish you were here, too, Cath." He said it, and he meant it. At the same time, a part of him was glad that she was deployed. While Wo Fat hadn't shown his face a lot lately, Steve didn't like the thought of him finding out about Catherine – something that would be inevitable if she were constantly here with him. Steve couldn't imagine what the arms dealer would do with such information, but the possibilities fueled his nightmares. No, it was a good thing she wasn't around, especially now that he was looking for Shelburne. That didn't stop him from missing her, nor did it make him cancel their date in Mumbai. He had tried to reason with himself, but he just couldn't do it. He didn't think he'd be able to handle the disappointment in Catherine's voice or his own.

"But you don't want me there while you're looking into your family's connection to Wo Fat?"

"How do-"

"You talk in your sleep." He could just imagine her saying that with a straight face.

"Seriously; Cath-"

"Steve, I know you. We have talked about Wo Fat, and I told you that his apparent interest in you worries me."

He couldn't have that.

"Hey, none of that now. I actually called for a reason apart from missing you," he attempted to distract her. Her snort told him she knew him and his tactics indeed, but she didn't argue. "I wanted to know when you'd be free for Mumbai?"

Another pause on her end of the line.

"Really? 'Cause I've got forty-eight hours coming up in five weeks. Sounds good?"

"Sounds perfect. And when you're stateside next, I'll buy you dinner. You'll get those steaks, I promise."

"It's good you remember."

"Always."

"I better find a nice dress then."

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(Bangkok)

The streets of Bangkok were overflowing as usual. There was nowhere to turn without running into somebody, and she was beginning to question the wisdom of her decision to come into town. She bit her lip as she waded her way through the masses. She wasn't directly in the center – she knew better than that – and it was still rather early, but the streets were packed already. People waiting for the bus, driving to work, doing their daily grocery with what little money they had, selling all kinds of knickknacks directly on the street. All types of people were squeezed into the tight spaces of the busy mile.

She silently cursed Steve as he truly was the only reason she was doing this to herself. She could have been enjoying a spa treatment in her few free hours today. Instead she was wading through throngs of people looking for something nice to wear to their date that was still very much in the future. He'd promised her those Kobe steaks next time she was on Oahu, and she had decided that she might as well surprise him with something new to wear. She would need a fancy dress for that place anyway, and one of the benefits of being stationed overseas were low-priced but well-done clothes.

She'd visited a few smaller shops and tailors already, but nothing had struck her quite right. She wanted a dress that was classy, elegant and yet sexy enough to make him stop dead in his tracks. She'd managed that a few times so far, and she absolutely loved doing that to him. For someone called Smooth Dog, she sure could make him stutter awkwardly with the right outfit. It always gave her a boost of confidence, and she knew he took pride in the fact that he was the only man for whom she dressed up like that. Truly, he was the only man she could to that with. She worked with most of the other men in her life, and doing anything that remotely resembled girly behavior was suicide career-wise. Steve didn't judge her for wanting to be treated like a proper woman at times, for wanting to dress up and make herself pretty, for wanting to be frail and feminine once in a while. He got her, and she didn't feel that way with other men. She always felt like she had to give up some of her femininity for the Navy, put on an impassive face and more brusque attitude for her colleagues. With Steve she could let all of the masks so carefully set in place fall away, knowing that he would not think any less of her. Quite the contrary, he would take her into his arms and let her cuddle or cry or just seek the comfort of his warmth. Sometimes his protectiveness annoyed her, because she really could take care of herself, but when she had to go months without being herself, she missed it terribly. She missed the fact that he wanted to treat her like a proper woman, missed that he wanted to protect her from all harm.

So deep in thought, she almost walked passed an inconspicuous little shop on the corner. She stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed something sparkling out of the corner of her eye. Turning toward it fully, her eyes lit up when she beheld the dark velvet dress, soft and flowing, on a mannequin with an emerald necklace making its enchanting appearance perfect. She took in the low neckline that would fall between her breasts, and smirked to herself. Her next trip to Oahu couldn't come too soon.

Mumbai first, though, she thought as she entered the shop.

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(Mumbai)

Catherine couldn't hide her excitement as she stood on her tiptoes in the waiting area, and tried to get a glimpse of Steve as soon as he came out. She kept rolling back and forth on her feet nervously, even went as far as to pace a little. As a throng of people from the recently landed flight stormed the waiting area, she finally climbed on top of a low bank to get a better vantage point. A myriad of dark-haired heads washed over the hall like a tidal wave. Men and women dropped suitcases as they fell into the arms of their families, or hurried along to get out of the busy room and catch a taxi to their hotel before the onslaught started.

She couldn't make out singular faces; there were too many meshing together in the tight crowd. Hopefully he could at least see her, so he'd find his way over to where she was waiting. Her own bag was at her feet. She hadn't brought much for her forty-eight hours of leave. She also doubted she would need much of anything. Steve had a way of making her want to stay inside. Of course, after not seeing him for months, she herself was inclined not to let him out of their bed. The thought of his touch, gentle or rough but always just as she needed it, made her shiver with a pleasant sensation. It would be mere minutes now before they would be together again, and even with the barrier of clothes, she couldn't wait to feel him wrapped around her in a strong embrace. She had missed him so badly, and now he was so close to her, her fingers itched to touch him. Her skin tingled with anticipation of his touch.

She felt tears prick at her eyes at the thought of having him so close for such a short amount of time. He wasn't even there yet, and she was already fearing the hour when she would have to let go of him again.

"Hey beautiful," reached her ears in a soft murmur. She looked to the side. Not five feet from her stood Steve, his eyes gazing intently at her. He dropped his sea bag, and opened his arms as he approached her. Without hesitation she let herself fall into his arms. He swung her around a little, making her laugh and cry even harder. "What's with all the tears?"

She shook her head.

"I'm just so happy that you're here," she croaked in reply, then laid her lips over his to kiss him passionately. He responded immediately, nudging her legs to wrap around his waist. He continued to hold her up, one arm underneath her delicious bum, one around her back. He could feel her thighs press closer, her feet linking behind him as he deepened the kiss until her legs were wound around him as tightly as her arms around his neck. When they had to take a break for some oxygen, he inhaled her scent, and buried his nose into the crook of her throat. God, he'd missed her, and therefore he couldn't help but ask as he let her back down onto the ground.

"Where else would I be?"

End

A/N: Well, that's it. I hope you enjoyed the story.