Missing Scenes, "Hunted"
by Sammie

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. "Airwolf" belongs to Belisarius Productions and CBS and USA and Universal.

RATING: T

SUMMARY: Missing scenes from the second season episode, "Hunted." Hawke POV.

A/N: Altered quotes from a few different places (Austen's "Pride and Prejudice", Alexander Pope's translation of the "Odyssey", and Cather's "Death Comes for the Archbishop")

She's been here just a few weeks and already she's going out on a date.

He glares at machine he's working on, as though it's responsible for that mess. She's scurrying to finish up her work, her bag sitting over on the counter. She goes to change, and he has to admit that she looks great. But she looked just as great in the red shirt and jeans and shoes she was wearing before.

He sees her makeup bag and her earrings and purses his lips and heads upstairs to get some of the things he needs.

He comes down as she's brushing her teeth. She's persistent. She's still dying to know about Airwolf, and apparently the comfort level they've reached allows her to ask even more about the Lady.

She clearly doesn't believe that he's not the pilot or that there's no helicopter. He tries to pin it on what he assumes would have been her state of mind after nearly being..."abused," he puts it. He knows it's rape, but he has a hard time thinking of that happening to Cait - even more so now that he's gotten to know her. Not that it's right at any instance, just that it becomes so much more personal when one knows the lady in question...

She starts looking about for her things - her earrings, especially - and his mood sours again. Still, he isn't one to just sit around and hide her things to keep her from going on that date - that'd be petty. (And he's not petty, he reminds himself. Again.)

He hands her her earring with a small bow and is rewarded with a smile.

Imagining horses in a cavalry. Normally he'd appreciate it, but the fact that she's rushing around to put this much effort into meeting some "Robert" that he keeps hearing about is really souring his mood. Caitlin has never grated on his nerves - he's rather enjoyed her sense of humor and having her around - but now she is. Well, this mysterious, apparently handsome and generous Robert is.

She's all gussied up, and even though she's beautiful in it, it's not her. Not that she's not pretty or that she's not beautiful dressed up, but it's like putting on a show. "It's too bad that guy doesn't like you how you are," he grouses, conveniently forgetting that he has grudgingly dressed up for dates and for events before.

He decides to squash the tiny voice that reminds him that Caitlin dressed like this for a meeting Santini Air had with a director and he had mentioned that she looked nice.

"That guy likes me any way I are," she retorts, distracted.

Dom pulls up, and they start up their mock fighting again. "Oh," she asks innocently. "Is that my job?"

"How do you like that for a question?" Dom exclaims.

"Oh, I love it." He grins. He enjoys her sense of humor. And he loves that she ribs Dom with as much ease and love as he does to Dom.

"You would," Dom grouses to him before turning to holler more at Caitlin. "You don't have a job! I don't have enough work around here for jobs!"

He grins. What a way to get somebody to stay and help cleanup, he laughs to himself. Tell 'em to stay and work but deny they have a job.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to take any work away from your regular employees. Let them do it."

If nothing, having Caitlin here makes watching Dom all the more hilarious.

When they see her again, she's still dressed up from her date, and she looks happy. It makes him grouchy.

"You do look nice, even if I didn't say it before," Dom compliments her.

"Why thank you!" she beams.

He ignores them both.

"We got a job!" Dom is bursting with his news. "Carter Anderson the third, that industrialist!"

"Really?" she sounds excited. "When do we start?"

"Not 'we' three. Us two," Dom retorts. "Part-time contractor, remember?"

"But - "

"No buts!"

She makes a face. "Fine, then! I came back to help clean up, but if there's not a job, then, I'm headed home." When she doesn't get a reply, she really heads home.

Dom is muttering to himself, but after a while he calms down. "I just don't have the money for it right now."

"I know."

"She looked nice, though. She's settling in, got herself a nice guy."

He makes a face at the machine he's working on. "That guy makes her get all got up for him."

"How do you know?"

"Did you see her?" he asks, looking at Dom incredulously.

"That's not all 'got up'," Dom disagrees. "You and I both hate suits and you still wear 'em to funerals and stuff."

"That's different."

"It's dress to impress! And boy, she impresses. 'Sides, it's not like it was that restricting ball gown she complained about for a week." It's quiet, and they work in silence, and then Dom suddenly exclaims, "Hey, I don't believe it! You're - "

"When can we get out to Airwolf?" he asks in a clipped tone.

That sets Dom off happily on a different trail and leaves the subject of Caitlin alone.

She's not his type, he reminds himself. He likes elegant and intelligent and dangerous women. He's not into homegrown, apple-pie tomboys, no matter how pretty and intelligent and cheeky and no matter how much they make him laugh. He's not, he's not, he's not, he reminds himself.

He slams the hammer a little too hard, and Dom yells at him in protest.

Can't start until Monday? That sours him even more. He can just imagine what she's doing this weekend.

Asking for a job and then not wanting to start right away. Which person in his right mind does that? Seriously. Normally he lets Dom chew out his employees, but this time he's so irritated he chews her out himself.

OK. He has to admit that it's not like they'd actually work the weekend, anyhow. It's already Friday and he personally doesn't expect a call until Monday, and they're going to work on Airwolf again this weekend. Still, Anderson wanted them on call, and if it's a job, she should be there in the hangar, waiting, instead of out with "Robert".

It's the principle of the thing.

Still, he can't deny her, and even though he says good-bye and hangs up, he has a feeling he's still going to talk to Dom.

He should have known that simply covering up the helicopter part wouldn't be enough to stop Cait from asking, especially since Dom had his huge light and magnifying glass combination out. Dom's attempt at hiding in plain sight was clever but unwise, given Cait's personality.

"That's why I'm askin'. Where's it from?"

He clears his throat as he gets up to pull her away. And as much as he really, really doesn't want to hear about her date, he asks about the boating.

She clearly doesn't care about that part of the date, and although Dom gets a brilliant crack in, it just washes over her. She's single-minded, he sighs to himself. She wants to know if she's full-time. Well, and where that fuel control unit is from.

She said that she wasn't going to be around this weekend, he grouses to himself. So why's she even here?

"Oh, yes, you're on full time," he hurriedly puts in, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her away. Dom adds some comments to help focus her attention on the job. "Paid medical expenses and everything," he adds with pretended excitement, his hand sliding down her arms to hold her hands.

At least this time she's focused on the job. "Since you've got the time off, I think you ought to go out and celebrate," he says, though the words sit painfully on his mouth and her certainly isn't going to go say with whom.

"Hey, is that an electronic fuel control unit?"

She's like a dog with a bone, he groans to himself. Throw her a steak in a job with medical benefits, and once she's finished with that steak, she's right back to that old bone.

"Say goodbye, Caitlin." He keeps rushing her out.

"Goodbye, Cait!" her voice rings as she leaves.

He turns to Dom with an exasperated look. Keeping Airwolf from her is going to be a full-time job in and of itself.

They show up at her place to pick her up to meet Anderson. She's got a cute little place; a little bland for his tastes, but then, it's an apartment and she hasn't lived terribly long in it. It's very small and sweet but doesn't really have her mark on it yet.

He considers giving her a stuffed armadillo as a gag gift, but decides it's too cliché.

He's tagging along because she wants to introduce Dom to the little Italian shopkeeper at the corner from her apartment - not a romantic introduction, she insists. It's just that Miss Lucia, as Cait calls her, insists on meeting her boss. Caitlin does introductions, and the two set off to chatting happily in Italian.

He's picking through the fruit. Hm. Not bad. "Nice to have close to home," he comments.

"Oh, it's great."

He picks out a few pieces and puts them in a small brown bag before digging cash out of his pocket to hand to the older woman. She, however, takes that opportunity to grab his hand.

"And is this your boy?" the small woman beams. She pulls him down to pat his cheek, and then busses him on each side before letting him straighten. He looks at Caitlin questioningly; the younger woman has a deer-in-the-headlights look. Before she can answer, the elderly shopkeeper keeps going; she's got his hand in hers still, and pats it maternally. "Oh, very good choice! Very strong, this one," she says approvingly, moving to squeeze his upper arms with a strength he wouldn't have attributed to somebody so small.

He's amused; Cait's blushing, and she won't look at him. "But - "

"I approve. I like this one." She's got one hand on his forearm and pats Caitlin's cheek proudly with her free hand, and Dom just grins big and wide and offers no help whatsoever. Cait gets even more uncomfortable, if that were possible. "Take this one home to your mama." The woman leans forward to whisper in Caitlin's ear, and all he hears is something that sounds like a combination of Bambi and forts - Italian, he assumes - and Caitlin turns as red as a fire hydrant while Dom just laughs himself stupid. He assumes it's something about him, or involving him, but he's too polite to ask and too amused at the horrified expression on Caitlin's face to care, especially since he's not the actual target of the woman's directions. Or, at least he thinks he's not.

"That's not him," Caitlin replies, her face flushed pink. "That's not the man I told you about. He's a coworker, not the man I'm dating."

The woman looks at her in confusion, then back to him, then back and forth again. "But why not?"

"Miss Lucia," Caitlin murmurs, trying to move the lady off the subject and away. She looks pleadingly at him for help, but he's gloating too much over being chosen over "Robert" to help her.

"I like this one! Keep this one, coccolona. Drop the other one."

"You haven't even met the other one! I mean, there is no other one." His grin widens as she stumbles around verbally, trying to gather her wits back about her. "No. There is another one, but that other one is just the one. He's not one!" she replies, waving at Hawke.

"Why not? He's a good boy," the little shopkeeper insists, pulling him down to her level so she can to pat him on the cheek affectionately. Just to play it up, he gives her a childlike kiss on her cheek. "Grazie, Mama Lucia," he replies as seriously as he can, which is about all the Italian he knows.

It has the desired effect. Caitlin is shooting him death glares as the older woman crows his praises. He grins at her over top of the shopkeeper's head. "See, he's a good, sweet boy," the woman insists. Her other hand still on his arm in a death grip. "Your mama would want this one for you. He even has an Italian grandpa!"

It takes a second for that comment to register with all of them. His grin widens as Cait's eyebrows shoot up. It's another second before an insulted Dom exclaims, "Hey!"

He says they're flying backup, which is true, but he isn't going to tell her what.

She is multi-engine rated. He read her file; she was multi-engine trained even earlier in her flying career than he was. It seems some parent took her flying lessons seriously, and she had most of her certifications before she finished college. No wonder the Highway Patrol snapped her up so early.

Shells and pea game. He learned it from a Secret Service agent he once dated briefly, a pretty brunette who, oddly, also was also named Caitlin. She could pick out a pea under a walnut shell every single time without fail. She even knew the once time he tried hiding the pea entirely and not putting it under any shell. Peas and shells, she'd explained, and mentioned just slightly - unfortunately, not a great deal - about how the planes and the helicopters created the illusion they were carrying the president when they really weren't.

He tries to convey to her the seriousness of the circumstances in his tone. She grasps it.

Rosalind and Caitlin are getting on like a house on fire. From the moment they landed at Anderson's, the two women have been walking and talking about everything and anything. He's heard everything from a description of the plane Caitlin is going to fly - complete with specs, and he admits that Rosalind appears to know more about planes than he gave her credit for - to the fact that Rosalind loves Cait's shoes and wants to know where she got them.

Caitlin submits to interrogation with the same calm and cheek she uses normally, and he wonders briefly if Rosalind is not giving her the third degree or if Caitlin is just used to this type of questioning about her abilities as a pilot. Sure, they warned her about Anderson's business-record snooping, but she took it in stride.

It disturbs him some that she seems to consider this interrogation normal. He's never had to defend his abilities; the powers that be can just take him or leave him. Still, he wonders if Caitlin has had it differently - if she's had to fight for every opportunity she gets. She had to fight for this one, and String knows it's not because Dom is against female pilots - after all, he taught his niece Jo to fly right alongside him.

Caitlin says something, a hand demonstrating something in the air, a huge grin on her face; Rosalind starts laughing and laughing.

Anderson comes up beside him, looking at him from the corner of his eye. "Thick as thieves." Hawke doesn't reply, and the man takes it as a cue to continue speaking. "Rosalind's the best, but admittedly she meets few women in the kind of work we do, and even fewer in the sort of position she's in. It's a man's world, at least right now."

He looks over at the speaker, who is watching his employee. He follows his gaze over to the two women. This time it's reversed; Rosalind appears to be telling a story, and Caitlin is the one laughing.

"Must be nice to meet somebody who understands."

They finally meet this "Robert" at the bar. The man's not especially handsome, but he's certainly not ugly. He tries to find fault, but most likely the main thing is that the guy's too serious.

Still, the guy's smart as a whip and has a sense of humor.

Dom seems pretty satisfied with him, and even Anderson's men - and Rosalind - don't seem on their guard. He knows he doesn't really have an excuse not to like the guy.

Dom's enjoying the music quite a bit, and Caitlin makes a cheeky comment about Artie Shaw, which gets Dom going. Glenn Miller starts up, and Dom can't stop tapping his foot to the music. The band gets through "Moonlight Serenade" and "American Patrol" before Caitlin obliges by giving Dom a dance to "In the Mood." He watches with a big grin; she's laughing, and Dom is enjoying this all. When they finish, Dom gives her a big hug and a peck on the cheek as their table applauds.

Robert comes to take over and claims Caitlin for the floor.

"Bravo, Mr. Santini," Rosalind smiles.

"Why, thank you." Dom beams. "That was real music. None of this 'Tainted Love' stuff I heard on the radio the other day."

"That was written in the sixties, Dom."

"So? At least we knew to leave it there! I'll never understand its revival."

"You never know." He looks amused.

The waiter sets down the first round of drinks in front of them, with bar mix. "Five billion years in the future, Soft Cell's 'Tainted Love' will be considered a classic."

"I doubt that one," Dom huffs when the waiter's gone. "Either that or people have terrible taste!" The band strikes up again, and he jumps excitedly. "Oh, I love this song!" Within a few minutes, Dom's voice is booming from his spot at the bar.

"Guess the business will have to wait," Hawke comments. Rosalind just smiles.

They finally do get the final details hammered out, and Hawke offers Rosalind a dance. He's been irritating to her before, and he should make up for it.

The minute they get to the dance floor he mentions Cait and Robert, then cringes to himself. OK, so it wasn't that slick. He generally knows better than to mention another woman when he's dancing with a gorgeous lady, but it just pops out.

Thankfully, Rosalind Gregory is a levelheaded, coolheaded woman and lets it slide by making a amused comment. They make their peace with it, and he admits that she would be a good sort. He's not for women with histrionics.

After taking down the man after Anderson, they reach the airport before Caitlin and Anderson and Gregory, and they hide Airwolf away and change. Clearly Robert's death hasn't affected Cait's flying, and the plane comes in smoothly and easily. Anderson's men rush him away as Cait pulls herself down from the cockpit. "You all right?" he asks quietly, holding her tightly.

She only nods but doesn't say anything else.

"Come on. Let's get you inside," he murmurs, guiding her away from the plane.

Once inside, Gregory approaches her and graciously takes her aside for a drink and some down time. Her gentle sympathy is appreciated, and he gives his former antagonist a grateful smile.

"I owe all three of you my life," Anderson murmurs. "Thank you."

"You were right about needing Airwolf."

Anderson sighs. "I wish I weren't." He pauses, then reaches out a hand to shake each of theirs. "That's a good pilot you've got there," he comments as Caitlin and Rosalind reenter. "I was beginning to doubt that a small-engine passenger plane like we were in even stood a chance at avoiding that Corsair. Even Rosalind was impressed, and she's not easy to impress."

It's too late to go home, Dom's a little too buzzed to fly, and he doesn't trust Caitlin this late at night and in her emotional state. They bunk at his cabin that night.

She's quiet again in the morning, and it seems that whatever efforts he and Dom made last night to cheer her up weren't as successful as they'd thought - or that she'd managed to make them think.

She greets him with a smile and a question about Airwolf, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes the way it generally does. Feeling better, perhaps, but not completely recovered.

"You sleep all right?"

"Yeah, thanks. So. About that big black helicopter of yours." But she doesn't press her advantage, and she has one - she's seen Airwolf on at least three different encounters and most likely four times total.

She's helping with breakfast, a large stack of pancakes getting higher and higher.

"Thanks."

"Least I can do for having my life saved again."

"You saved Anderson's, too, with that flying."

"He would have ended up getting us again."

"Because you don't have weapons."

She acknowledges that, then goes back to adding to the pancake stack.

There's a long silence, and while he's got no problem with silences, this one is uncomfortable, even for him. "This still about him?"

She doesn't say anything. Another two pancakes go on top. He grabs a plate and moves a third of the pile onto it before the stack falls. "He fooled us too, Cait."

"That's 'cause you trusted me, and I trusted him."

Ah. So that's what it was. She was upset about Robert, but she was more upset with herself.

"Been fooled by a lot of people before." He shrugged. "You live and learn."

"'s not like I can do anything else, right? I just need to move on." She goes to make another pancake and finds the batter gone.

She starts to pull out the flour when he puts his hand on her arm. "I think that's more than we can eat."

She looks back at the three plates, piled high, and her expression turning sheepish. "Sorry."

He pulls her back to look at him, and he doesn't say anything for a minute - just studies her face. Then, "Cait, I've trusted people before and gotten stabbed in the back. It happens. You live and learn. That's all." He shrugs.

She looks back at him for a moment, as if assessing whether or not he's serious. She nods. "OK."

Dom and Cait end up staying the whole day, and while String pretends to grouse about it, he's actually glad for the company. He sees Caitlin relaxing, and it makes him happier than he'll admit. She's oddly quiet out there - he doesn't know if it's the events of the last few days or nature. He takes her out on the lake in one of his small boats, and she lies back, resting on her elbows, staring up at the sky and the mountains around her, and he smiles as he watches her.

Dom and Caitlin end up spending the second night there, with a vow to leave tomorrow morning.

As he approaches, he hears her murmuring, but he doesn't catch all of it until a few lines later. "'Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn...'"

And it really looks like it. The sky is streaked with pink mixed in with the fading dark purple hues of night, and it scatters its light on forest ground. This is why he loves it at his cabin.

He steps onto the porch as silently as he can, but a loose board betrays him.

She jumps and turns. "Morning."

"Morning."

He steps forward so he's level with her; she turns back to the sky, and he doesn't think he's seen anything more beautiful than she is at this moment. The light is playing across her face, and the beautiful smile he's come to associate with her plays at her lips. The sunlight reflects off her eyes, and they're alight. "I've never seen it like this," she said softly.

"Surely you have dawns in Texas," he teases.

She doesn't take the bait. "It's different." Her eyes get a faraway, excited look. "In Texas - well, out in the west hill country, where I did a lot of flying - it's flat, and it stretches out for miles and miles. And the sun comes up, and everything lights up - and it's like seeing the wild in a huge flush of light, and the wind - something soft and wild and free that makes you wild, too - something that whispers to the ear on the pillow, lightens the heart. And it releases you into the wind, into the blue and gold - into the morning!" Her voice is filled with adventure and running and excitement, so much so he can almost see it himself and feels his heart speed up.

He looks at her, her face lifted towards the sun, the sunlight streaming down onto her face, and he could see for just a moment why she loved to fly. The spark of wildness and streak of independence, sparking in her eyes.

She shrugs, and that glimpse into Caitlin O'Shannessy disappears, replaced by the serenity he'd seen when he first came out. "But here. Everything's still in shadow, and the sun's just appearing over the mountains. And the clouds so high up - it's like Dawn really has those rosy fingers, pulling back at the clouds. And it's so quiet; just the birds, and the lake." She shrugs helplessly, as if she can't explain it all. "This is different. It's so peaceful here; it gives you a different feeling."

"Just as good?" His voice is hoarser than he intended.

She smiles and nods but still doesn't look at him, just drinking everything in. "It's beautiful," she sighs. "Everything else seems unimportant, when so much beauty is before you."

"That's why I come up here." He pauses. "Though I have a hard time seeing you as worn down by what happens to you."

She smiles. "Well, I was told to learn and to move on," she teases.

He just grins. "That's right."

She smiles. "I have a hard time believing that's your philosophy," she teases. "Only thinking of the past as it gives you pleasure to."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching. She smiles back and turns back to the sunrise.

He looks at her, and her face aglow, and he can't tell if it's from the morning sunlight, coming over the treetops, or if it's just from her. Her face is full of sweet happiness - everything, he's come to associate with her. He turns out towards the lake, drinking in the scene. He's never thought of it like that before.

It suddenly strikes him that, through her, he is seeing everything anew.

Perhaps that's it. She is younger, he acknowledges that, but she has not been jaded by life. He had wondered if she is that way by choice or by inexperience, but he is more and more inclined to think the former. Her time on the patrol - everything speaks to him of somebody who simply has decided to enjoy what's there rather than one who has been presented with a falsely positive look. She has decided to love every minute of her life rather than focus on what isn't there.

He finds the idea jarring - that, in fact, he has in fact met the enemy to his own contentment and, it's, well, him. He had said once before that Caitlin was not his type; he's attracted to drop-dead beautiful, worldly women, and he admits that many of the women were just as jaded as he is. He'd always associated jaded with worldly, and for the first time, he begins to think he is wrong.

She understands the world - enough, anyhow. She hasn't gone to war, and she hasn't lived as long as he has, and she's not as cynical as he is. Still, she's not an innocent; he'll even admit that he's dated girls who have had less experience of the world than she has. Even seeing what she has hasn't made her bitter; she simply chooses not to play that game.

He admits that, as much as he enjoys the beauty of the lake, he is here for his own peace of mind. She is here for something larger than she is - for the beauty of the scene itself.

It suddenly strikes him, what she is to him: through her, he's seeing the world new again, to enjoy it rather than just be in it - to live again.

END