CHAPTER 1

"Cait, how's the schedule coming for today?" Dominic Santini,owner of the air service Caitlin O'Shaunessey worked for, asked.

"You're scheduled to take Ruby's lesson, that's it."

"Momma mia," the Italian muttered, " business has been terrible lately."

"It'll turn up soon, Dom," Caitlin encouraged, "I'm sure it will."

Dominic sighed, hoping she was right, but not seeing much hope of increased business in the near future. "What about String? Do you know if he is planning on gracing us with his presence any time soon or am I going to have to go up there and pry him out myself?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since he came by to pick up Le last week."

"Alright. I'll see what I can do later. What time is the lesson with Ruby?"

"Eleven thirty," Caitlin answered.

"Better get ready then; she'll be here about any time now."

"Yeah. I'll finish cleaning up here before I go get lunch, or I could go check on Hawke if you prefer."

"That would be great," Dom thanked. It wasn't even all that late yet, but he hadn't slept well that previous night and he'd take all the help he could get. Besides, maybe she would try a different, and hopefully more successful, approach to bringing String back to the real world. He had nothing against the cabin, even enjoyed his occasional stays, but it couldn't be good for anyone to spend such vast amounts of time isolated away from everyone else.

"Oh Mr. Santini," Ruby's voice rang out loud and clear, a little too loud and clearly. "I'm ready for my lesson."

"I'll be right there," Dominic called back to Ruby then returned his attention to Caitlin. "Go ahead and check up on String for me and see what you can do. I'll take care of lunch after the lesson."

\A/

Caitlin, in the Jet Ranger, had almost reached the cabin when she saw that Hawke already had visitors. A pristine white FIRM helicopter rested on the end of the wooden dock and it didn't look like they were planning to be leaving any time soon.

Landing off a little ways from the cabin, she climbed out as the rotors slowed and walked up towards the cabin.

Before she had even stepped up onto the porch, Hawke came threw the door he had just flung open. "You can go. I'll let you know what I decide," he growled. "I don't want to see or hear from either of you until then."

"We don't have much time," Michael reminded. He was pushing the envelope and he knew it, but this mission wasn't possible without either Airwolf or a lot of bloodshed.

"Like I said, I'll get back to you."

Michael and Marella exited silently and disappeared into the FIRM chopper, Hawke slamming the door shut before he even realized she was there.

Maybe now wasn't a good time, Caitlin thought, or maybe someone to listen to him is just what he needed. She hadn't been there for the argument so she had no clue what it was about, but whatever it was had upset him over something.

She knew she might be taking her life into her own hands, but finally decided to chance it and came in the front door.

Hawke wasn't anywhere in sight, but she could hear the soft playing of the cello coming from the loft. She didn't recognize the piece, couldn't even say she had heard it before, but it sounded difficult, but far more than that. It was definitely a darker piece, anger and sadness intertwined with every note, and something else, bitterness?

Hawke was a tricky one to deal with on the these kind of issues, that much she had found out quickly and been proved over and over in the two years she had known him. One bad move, saying the wrong thing just once, and she would have an all out battle with the impenetrable Stringfellow Hawke.

He wasn't always that way though. He had a soft heart, a sensitive one that had just been betrayed and broken too many times over the years, and because of that he had built up stone barriers around it, refusing to willingly let anyone in for fear that something would happen to them. There were a select few though that had been there since the beginning or somehow managed to burrow their way under his defenses. To those, he loved and protected with every bit of loyalty and strength he had to give.

As the song drew to an end, she quietly made her way toward the stairs to the loft.

"Hawke," she called softly, "Hawke…"

He said nothing nor made any move to acknowledge her presence.

"Hawke, are you alright?"

He glanced over at her briefly then back down at the cello, chose to ignore her, and started playing the next piece of music with a similarly gloomy mood.

Obviously he didn't want to talk about it yet, but that was okay, she could wait. Soundlessly she moved onto the bench beside him and closed her eyes as she listened to the expertly played moody cello instrumental.

\A/

She wasn't sure exactly how it had happened, but Caitlin felt the weight of String leaning heavily against her shoulder, eyes closed, and drawing in a deep breath as if trying to prepare himself for what was sure to be the following interrogation, but she remained quiet, only asking that he not push her away.

They remained like that for several minutes, each savoring every silent minute of the other's presence until Hawke finally moved, resting his chin on her shoulder than looking up at her with vulnerable, moist baby blue eyes.

With a tentative hand, Caitlin stroked the soft fringe at the nape of his neck, with long delicate gentle movements, hoping she wasn't pushing her luck too far.

He didn't object, enjoying the silent moment in time even though he knew it couldn't last.