Disclaimer – Airwolf and characters do not belong to me. I have just borrowed them
Chapter 1
Hawke's POV
The phone was ringing again and Stringfellow Hawke was getting very irritated.
"Where the hell is she?" he muttered under his breath as he climbed out of the cockpit of the chopper he was fixing and rushed to pick up the phone.
"Santini Air!" he barked into the phone.
"It's a good job I'm not a client," Caitlin O'shannessy retorted, "you should be more polite when you answer the phone."
"I wouldn't be answering the phone if you here here." Who the hell does she think she is? You would think she owned the place the way she acts sometimes.
"I'm going to be a bit late. Something came up."
"Oh?" Good one Cait! I've used that one myself a few times.
"Yeah well, you know this guy I went out with the other night..."
"Yeah," Hawke growled down the phone.
"Well he's asked me out to dinner tonight and I've got nothing to wear," her Texan drawl was pronounced and he caught himself thinking how cute she sounded. Stop that, you're supposed to be angry with her.
"That's your excuse! You have nothing to wear. Just pack some clothes and get here now!"
He hung up, grinning, proud of himself for not giving away his amusement. It was so like Cait to panic about what to wear for a date but not give a thought to how she looked at work. But she does look great in overalls, especially those new red ones, she just doesn't realise it.
An hour later Hawke heard her car pull up outside the hanger. About time too, how long does it take to pack a few clothes?
"I'm here String," she called, "Where are you?"
"Over here," he called back, jumping down from the cockpit to greet her. She was carrying 3 dress bags and another small bag, no doubt containing essential stuff needed for a date. I could go on holiday for a month with that amount of luggage, Hawke thought wryly.
"Let me help you with them," he offered good naturedly. Be nice, it'll confuse her.
"Oh, thanks," she handed over all the bags, "any coffee?"
"I'll make some."
"I'm glad to see you're in a better mood now. Where's Dom?"
"On a charter. And there was nothing wrong with my mood."
"Come on Hawke, you were as grumpy as a..."
He interrupted, "As a man who had to answer the phone because someone was late for work?"
"Well, yeah, sorry," she didn't sound very sorry.
"Well now you're here go sit in the office, drink coffee, answer the phone and dream of lover boy!"
Hawke stormed off leaving Caitlin standing, open mouthed, at this outburst.
The effect was lost though as he realised that he was still holding her bags. Damn, and it was such a good exit.
He walked back, holding out the bags, "Where do you want these?" he asked her sheepishly.
Later that afternoon the fashion show started. Cait stepped out of the bathroom 3 times in 3 different outfits. Hawke was watching her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to call them over. No way would she be able to make a decision by herself.
When outfit number 1 showed itself again he decided to intervene.
"Cait! You not ready yet?" He walked casually over to her followed by Dom who had returned from his charter flight.
"I can't decide what to wear. What do you two think?"
"They all look great. He'll love any of them," Dominic smiled indulgently at her.
"Not helpful Dom," she said irritably, "what do you think Hawke?"
"I think...the red overalls suit you the best," he grinned wickedly. One up for me, he thought, serves you right for being late.
Caitlin stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
"What did I say?" he asked Dominic innocently. "she really does look good in red." Yeah, she really does look good in red.
She emerged a couple of minutes later, lipstick on, still wearing the skirt and jumper.
"I just hope I'm not too hot," she said thoughtfully, looking as though she was about to change her mind again.
"Don't worry, you can always take it off." 2-0 to me. That jumper fits perfectly, emphasises her...stop it Hawke.
"I don't remove my clothes on a second date," she retorted. Good one Cait but it's still 2-1 to me. Hey, is that what she really thinks of me? I need a good comeback here or she'll win.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't," he told her cheekily as he closed her door and stepped away from the car. 3-1 to me. I win. He watched her drive away, off on a date with another man. I was wrong, he thought grimly, I didn't win after all.
