"Heading out to another training session with five-oh-one."

Alan dug the end of his surfboard into the sand as he took in his brother's attire. Easily a hundred degrees out, and Gordon was in a full-body wetsuit with flippers slung over his shoulder, twin oxygen tanks strapped to his back, a face mask and regulator hanging from his neck and an underwater camera in his hand.

"Better you than me."

"Yeah, it's a rough life bonding with new agents over a good pipeline."

"Shut up."

Gordon grinned. "See the dive boat three hundred yards out?" He pointed out to the Pacific.

"Yep," Al replied, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"We'll be sticking within a thousand-yard radius of that exact spot. I want to start him off slow, get him used to maneuvering with the dual tanks. He did good with the singles yesterday."

"And if I can stay upright long enough, five-oh-four should finally admit I'm a good enough surfer to be considered something other than a…what was that word she used again?"

"Haole," Gordon replied smartly and with a grin. "It's pretty funny."

"Well, why doesn't she call you that?"

"I'm not as pale as you are."

"Oh, ha-ha. Like the Jersey guy you're trying to teach how to dive and swim properly in the depths?"

Gordon got a look on his face that made Alan smirk. "With a Navy SEAL up my ass about it."

Alan laughed out loud. "Like I said, better you than me."

"I'm just glad these masks we're using are standard. The way those two argue, I'd never get a word in edgewise if we were using miked helmets. I just can't figure out how they work together so well with all the bickering they do."

"Well, it's no different from us, really," Alan offered.

Gordon sighed. "I guess not."

"Plus, they're good at what they do. They've been doing it for eighteen years."

"Okay, so you've got the one they keep calling the rookie almost ready to bow to your expertise in hanging from flying objects, and the one that reminds us of Kyrano is back at their headquarters holding the fort down, right?"

"Check," Alan replied. He and Gordon both turned as a beautiful Asiatic woman with long, dark hair came out of the waves and stuck her surfboard in the sand next to Alan's. "How does a forty-year old woman look that good in a string bikini?" Al whispered in awe.

"Moreover, how does the bikini stay on when a wave takes her out?" Gordon murmured in reply.

The woman smiled brightly. "Okay, brah, you've made your point. I'm suitably impressed. You're not bad for a rich boy."

Gordon saw Alan's face turn pink as his anger rose, and thought to himself how funny that he reacted a lot like the Jersey guy Gordon himself was teaching about diving. Being the peacemaker of the two, Gordon stepped half in front of his younger brother and smiled, all teeth.

"So you're ready for your aerial training, then?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," the woman said and Gordon admired her enthusiasm.

Although, he mused, there was something vaguely disturbing about the fact that at least two of the four members of this elite task force had been so gung-ho to become agents for International Rescue to begin with. The Navy SEAL and this woman standing before them seemed on the verge of doing backflips when Jeff had posited the idea to them, while the Zen-like guy seemed to have no opinion one way or the other.

The other guy, the one who swore he hated the water, but took to it like a fish as soon as Gordon had suited him up two days ago, was the only one who had loudly voiced his opinion on the matter. He kept insisting it had to be some sort of conspiracy between Jeff and the Navy commander to make it twice as likely that he'd suffer an early death on what he'd termed a "pineapple-infested hellhole."

The other three members of the team had just grinned like this was the most normal thing in the world for the short guy to say. Gordon still hadn't deciphered the ins and outs of these peoples' relationships, and was actually very much looking forward to just going back to Tracy Island where the family dynamics weren't quite as dysfunctional as they seemed to be with this group called Five-O.

He had to admire their spunk, though. A couple of fifty-two year old guys, the Kyrano-like man he couldn't even guess the age of and this forty year old knockout standing there chatting with a fellow surfer had been through a lot, from what Penny and Jeff had uncovered, and still they stood together as a team. And, Gordon added as his eyes couldn't help but take in the surfer lady's backside, were still in damn good shape.

Gordon smiled a little as the woman turned away from her surfer friend and back to him and Alan. He really hoped that by the time 2044 rolled around, his own family would still be a close-knit and loving team who functioned together as well as they did now, two years into International Rescue.

He noted that while he'd heard mention of an adult child the shortest guy had, none of the team members were married or seemed otherwise seriously involved with anyone. He wondered if that was just the curse of doing something that nobody else could do. Probably, he thought, as he listened to Alan discussing the first day out with the surfer lady. The Tracys would probably be the same way, in the end, and Gordon couldn't really find it in himself to be bothered all that much by the prospect.

"Hey, there, you ready?" a voice said from behind Gordon. He turned and looked at the comically tall-and-short duo trudging toward them dressed exactly the same way Gordon was, gear and all.

"Sure thing!" Gordon said, smiling brightly. No, this wasn't his first love of deep-sea diving they were doing, but given that this team lived and worked on a chain of islands, it was important all of them could go down far enough to help should something happen offshore. And in spite of the commander's protestations, Jeff had insisted it be a member of International Rescue to train and clear the one member of Five-O that didn't know how to dive.

"I could've taught you all this, Danno. I don't see why you have to take this man's time when there are probably people who need to be rescued somewhere in the world."

Gordon rolled his eyes. God, they were already starting and they hadn't even left the beach. "Regulators in," he ordered just as the shorter one opened his mouth. The surfer lady laughed at the looks on the taller and shorter men's faces. "We're swimming out to the dive boat from shore. I'll give you further orders there."

Alan and the woman, and no, Gordon didn't know any of their names…although he'd just heard 'Danno' for the first time and wondered if that was a nickname of some sort… because IR tried to keep things professional with their network of agents, so as not to let anyone get too close to the inner circle. So Alan and the woman grabbed their surfboards and started heading up toward the parking lot, both of them waving back to where the Danno guy and the tall SEAL guy were getting their regulators properly situated in their mouths.

The blond-and-silver-haired one raised his hand and looked like he was about to say something around the regulator, but Gordon just shook his head 'no' very, very slowly. The tall salt-and-pepper-haired man snorted and got an elbow in his ribs for his trouble. Gordon groaned. Just today and tomorrow, that's all it would take. Then the quickie training session would be done, and he and Alan would be trading Hawaii for Tracy Island.

And none too soon, Gordon thought as he watched the two men start walking into the water. Because with all the punches, pinches, cuffs to the backs of each other's heads and other sundry vaguely sign-language-type hand gestures, these two could argue louder than anyone he'd ever met, all without ever uttering a word.

Gordon headed into the water after them mumbling, "The things I do for International Rescue..."

Author's Note: Apologies to both fandoms, but I couldn't resist crossing over my two greatest TV loves. Oh, and thanks to G, whose silly childlike stick figure drawing inspired this little ditty!