Ultimatum
Disclaimer – As usual, I don't own the show, or the characters...just taking another little playdate.
A/N – The idea for this story actually came from a line in NettieC's excellent JAG fic, entitled Sorry. (The line was, "Either get over him, get under him, or get on with it!") Most of the idea came from a series of brainstorming sessions with Sirius7. Somewhat AU, since I'm writing Michael and Marella as being a married couple, and will make references to my First Time storyline, as well as including the character of Judge Ronald Clevenger from And **WHEN** Was the Wedding?. Italics are used to illustrate either memories, or character thoughts. I hope you enjoy it. Rated "M" for descriptions of sexual activity and general steaminess. – robertwnielsen
Summary – Marella takes it upon herself, ignoring the potential consequences, to get Hawke and Caitlin together.
Marella
I've gotta do something, I said to myself as I glanced over at my friend, Caitlin O'Shannessy, watching Stringfellow Hawke dancing with Lauren, Archangel's number one pilot. Michael had taken the whole team out for a night on the town on a Friday night, to celebrate three years of working together, and I had been noticing the expression on Caitlin's face as Hawke danced with Lauren. Caitlin wants to be the one dancing with Hawke, I said to myself, and a lot more, if I'm not mistaken. Because if looks could kill, I said to myself, stealing another glance at Caitlin's face out of the corner of my eye, Hawke and Lauren would be dead on the floor right now. Caitlin had an expression on her face that could burn through lead, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why.
I remembered something I'd decided after Hawke, Dominic, and Caitlin had rescued Michael from Comrade Kinskov and Kruger in East Germany two years ago. I had promised myself then that whatever I had to do to get Caitlin and Hawke together, I was going to do it. I figured it was the least I could do, after what Caitlin had done for me, helping Hawke bring Michael back so that I could finally confess how I felt about him.
"You did say we needed to talk," Michael said when he noticed my expression, after we had dinner at his house a few days after he was rescued.
"Yes, Michael, I did," I said, trying to relax. "Michael. That woman—Maria. Were you...?" I couldn't bring myself to say the last word—lovers. But, I had to know.
"At one time, yes," Michael said. "We were lovers when I was a field agent with the CIA, before the FIRM was established."
"I see," I said, and hoped that my tone of voice didn't betray my emotions.
"Marella," Michael said, concerned, "it's a long time over. And anyway, Maria's dead. Hawke shot her, just before she would have killed me. But, why would you ask me a question like that?"
I couldn't say anything, so I pulled Michael closer to me and kissed him, a deep, passionate, loving kiss that I hoped would convey the feelings that I'd held in my heart for so long. I felt Michael's body stiffen when I first kissed him, but it didn't take long for him to relax in my arms, and return the kiss.
"Michael," I said after we separated and I felt like I'd found my voice, "I have something I need to tell you. I—I love you. I have for a long time, and when you went missing..." I felt my voice crack and was relieved when I felt Michael enfold me in his arms.
"Marella," he whispered, pulling me closer to him, "I—I love you, too. I have for a long time. I just never knew the right way to tell you."
Of course, after Michael finally did tell me how he felt, things had moved pretty fast, and we were married just a few months after I made my confession to him. And he told me about what Caitlin said to Dominic the following year, when John Bradford Horn kidnapped String, in an attempt to acquire Airwolf.
"Not 'we,' ME! The instructions say, 'ME!' Dom had insisted, after Caitlin stated, "We gotta get the Lady!"
"Dom. Don't do that to me. I care about him too, you know. Probably more than you know," Caitlin had told him, making herself part of the rescue mission.
I honestly didn't think they could pull it off, considering what we knew about Horn's compound. That place, from everything Michael and I had read about it, sounded like a fortress, something on the level of NORAD or SAC Headquarters, and I didn't think there was any way that Dom and Caitlin could pull off a rescue mission, especially if Hawke was unconscious, or worse—if he was dead. But, I was proven wrong when I learned that the experimental drug Michael gave Caitlin and Dom had worked, Hawke had been restored to himself, and the three of them were able to destroy Horn's compound and escape, even though Horn seemed to have disappeared.
Of course, I'd seen and heard other evidence that Caitlin cared about Hawke as more than just a friend, and a co-worker. I'd seen it at FIRM parties that the three of them attended together, and Michael's told me about what happened after they rescued Caitlin from Ken Sawyer, when she kissed both String and Dominic, and how she'd held the kiss with String just a tad longer than the one with Dom. I guessed Caitlin was trying to tell him something—but as usual, he wasn't listening.
Don't get me wrong—I know about this curse Hawke says he has on him—that everyone he loves, or might love, will die. And I guess, if I'd gone through everything he has—losing his parents, his high school sweetheart, and his older brother Saint John like that—I'd probably feel the same way.
Dom had once told me that things actually appeared to be looking up for Hawke after Gabrielle flew Michael up to Hawke's cabin four years ago to tell him about Moffett's theft of Airwolf. I had smiled when Dom told me about when he first saw Gabrielle there with String, and how he felt like String was beginning to come out of the shell he'd been in for so long, until Michael had to send Gabrielle to Libya when Angela was murdered by Moffett. Then, Moffett captured, tortured, and murdered Gabrielle, who died in Hawke's arms in the Libyan desert, which only seemed to drive Hawke even deeper into depression.
But Caitlin's not Gabrielle, I said to myself. I know Gabrielle had self-defense training—we all did, as employees of the FIRM—but Caitlin's training, both officially with the Texas Highway Patrol, and unofficially, from what Caitlin's told me about her time at home with her older sister Erin and two brothers, made her that much more capable of defending herself. I just wish there was some way to get it through Hawke's head, I said to myself.
Caitlin
I know what you're thinkin', Marella Coldsmith-Briggs, I thought anxiously when I caught her expression. I just don't know how it's gonna happen. From the look on her face, I could tell Marella was worried about me, especially where it concerned String. I get the feeling that it's no secret, at least to Marella, how I feel about Stringfellow Hawke—I love him. I have loved him ever since that day three years ago, when I came to California lookin' for him to tell him about his friend Jimmy bein' killed.
"Caitlin! Deputy Caitlin!" String shouted as he looked up at me and smiled, a smile that I couldn't remember seeing the last time I saw Hawke, when he came to Texas to help me get away from that lunatic Bogan. Unfortunately, I haven't seen it much since then, either.
But, when I have seen him smile at me like that, it literally takes my breath away. But watching him tonight, dancing with Lauren, Michael's prime pilot, and seeing him smiling at her the way I wanted him to smile at me, I was becoming more and more jealous, not to mention more and more pissed off, the longer I watched them. I have wanted to feel Hawke's arms around me like that, for so long. But, I've got a feelin' that the Cowboys are gonna go back to the Super Bowl before I ever feel Hawke's arms around me like that; and that, to be perfectly honest, makes me sick. I just hope my feelings aren't too obvious; 'specially to Marella. She's pretty perceptive about stuff like that—so I hope I wasn't broadcasting my emotions about String too loud.
It's not like I don't understand this danged curse that Hawke hides behind—Dom and I talked about it a couple of years ago, when I threatened to leave 'cause I was so frustrated with Hawke. Dom figured it was time I knew the whole story, so he told me about all of it—Hawke's parents, his high school girlfriend Kelly, his older brother Saint John, and Gabrielle.
But I don't understand why Hawke is so obsessed about this. I mean, his parents and Kelly were killed in accidents, for cryin' out loud. Nobody could've stopped either one of the crashes—and String coulda been killed, too. As for Gabrielle, I wouldn't—and I don't—blame String for that—I blame that psycho Moffett. Moffett, from what Dom has told me about him, and from what I've read about him, was out of his mind, and would stop at nothing to protect what he wanted, in this case, Airwolf. Heck, even with everything I know about self-defense, I wouldn't want to deal with somebody like Moffett—at least not without Hawke, Dom and the Lady for backup. As for Saint John—and if I ever said this out loud, String would hate me for the rest of his life, but I gotta say it now—we don't know where Saint John is, so as far as I'm concerned, he doesn't count! If we knew whether he was alive or dead, that'd be one thing, but since we don't know one way or another, I can't understand why String obsesses about it the way he does. I gotta admit, that's something else I can't figure out about String—but it doesn't change the fact that I love him. And I can take care of myself perfectly well, thank you very much. I am a black belt in karate, after all, and I've been in danger a bunch of times, even before I met Hawke—I was kidnapped more than once back when I was a Highway Patrol officer, plus almost bein' raped by some of Bogan's boys, along with bein' shot one time on a traffic stop—they tell me I actually died on the operating table, but they were able to bring me back. And, since I've known Hawke, I've been kidnapped, hijacked, almost raped, shot at, nearly shot down, held at gunpoint, and generally looked death straight in the eye numerous times. And even through all of that, I'm still here.
Marella
Okay, let's go, I said to myself, knowing that what I was about to do could ruin not only my friendship with Caitlin, but her friendship with Hawke, as well as Hawke's friendship with me. On the other hand, it could transform their friendship into something wonderful, I thought. Besides, if I don't do something quick, Cait's liable to go ballistic, and that's the last thing I want. I turned to my husband and said, "Michael, would you excuse me for a minute?" I kissed him on his cheek, then turned to Caitlin as I stood up, and said, "Come on, Caitlin. Let's talk." I smiled as Caitlin stood up and we went to the ladies' room together.
"Cait, what's wrong?" I said, even though I knew the answer—at least, I hope I do, I thought excitedly.
Caitlin
"Nothing," I lied, hoping that Marella hadn't caught me staring at String.
"Sorry, Caitlin, but I don't buy it," Marella said, shaking her head. "I saw you staring at Hawke just now, and tonight wasn't the first time I've noticed you doing it. You—you really like him, don't you?"
Dang it. She noticed. "No, Marella. I don't 'really like him,' I said, then added sheepishly, "I love him. I love String. And I've loved him ever since I met him three years ago." Now that my secret was out, I felt more embarrassed than I have at any time in my life, and I knew my cheeks were bright red. I couldn't help wondering what Marella was gonna do now that she knew how I felt. Please, don't tell Hawke, I begged her silently.
Marella
I knew it, I thought, hiding the triumphant grin that threatened to break out across my face, especially when I saw Caitlin blushing. "I thought so," I said out loud. "And, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, Caitlin. Even if I hadn't heard all the stories I've heard, the look on your face out there was evidence enough. That's the main reason I decided we needed to talk—you looked like you were about ready to blow a fuse out there," I said, not surprised when Caitlin nodded at me. "And don't worry," I said, smiling, "this conversation won't go beyond these walls." I knew Cait was concerned that I would tell Hawke—I could see it in her eyes—but I couldn't do that to her.
"I figured as much," Caitlin said, then added, "And, thanks for keepin' my secret, Marella."
"Don't mention it," I said, smiling and shaking my head at my friend. "Now, Cait, I know I just said that this conversation won't go beyond these walls, but I can't guarantee that Michael won't ask me what we talked about here, and if he does, I'll have to tell him. So, are you okay with that?" She hesitated for a while, then nodded. "Good," I replied. "Caitlin, may I give you a friendly piece of advice? This situation between you and Stringfellow Hawke is getting way out of hand. You need to make some decisions about Hawke, once and for all. I'm sorry to put it this way, Caitlin, but you need to get over him, get under him, or get on with it. Michael and I have been watching you two for the better part of three years, and enough is enough!" I hated to put it so bluntly, but Caitlin seems like the type that respects brutal honesty, and I couldn't get much more brutal—or much more honest—than that. That's why I worried that what I just said would ruin my friendships with both Caitlin and Hawke. When she figures out that by "get under him," I meant "have sex with Hawke," she'll probably never want to speak to me again. And neither will Hawke, when he finds out, I thought worriedly.
I know Stringfellow Hawke has very few friends—and, I feel privileged that Hawke considers both Michael and myself among those friends. We tease each other a lot, sort of like a brother and sister would tease each other, but I have a very funny feeling that when Hawke finds out about this conversation, and one way or another, he will find out, that he'll be furious with me. As well he should be, I couldn't help thinking. I mean, Hawke hates it even when Dom meddles in his personal life, and Hawke looks at Dom like a father. So I can only imagine what he's going to think when he finds out I'm meddling in it.
Caitlin
"You need to get over him, get under him, or get on with it!" Marella had said. What? I asked myself as my brain processed what I'd just heard. Get over him, or get on with it. I get that part. Heck, Mom's been tellin' me to do that for the past two years. And I've been fightin' her about it for just as long. But 'get under him,' what the heck does she, Oh—my—GOD! I thought, hoping that my face didn't reflect my embarrassment. She can't mean—that—can she? I had the feeling that Marella was saying I needed to have sex with Hawke—not that I'm opposed to the idea, mind you. Doing that with Stringfellow Hawke is something that I've dreamed about for at least the past year. I've gotta be honest—some of the things I've dreamed about doing with Hawke have gotta be illegal. At least, illegal back home in Texas. Here in California, I'm not so sure, I thought, even as I thought about my mom and my sister Erin, who basically have been tellin' me the same thing for a long time, but they didn't put it quite as bluntly as Marella just did. I mean, in all seriousness, what Marella just said is a lot more direct than saying I need to "forget that danged fool Hawke and come on home!" the way my mother has been for the past two years. It actually sounded more like somethin' Daddy used to tell Erin and me when we couldn't make up our minds about something. 'Either take a dump, or get off the pot!', Daddy used to say. Marella's right, I thought, and so is my dad. I do need to either take the dump, or get off the pot with regards to String, once and for all.
I gotta admit, I was a little surprised when Marella said that if Michael asked her, she would tell him what we'd talked about, after she'd just told me our conversation wouldn't go beyond the ladies' room. But, when she asked if I was okay with Michael hearing about it, I nodded affirmatively—I mean, after working with him for the past three years, I trust Michael enough to know that he wouldn't betray Marella's confidence—or mine—by telling String. Besides, Michael's her husband, so I couldn't expect Marella to keep this a secret from him. But I had to find out if what Marella meant by "get under him" was what I thought she meant.
"Marella? When you said, 'get under him,' did you mean...?" I couldn't finish my sentence, I was so embarrassed, but I realized I had to clear that up in my head.
"Yes, Caitlin, I did," Marella said. "I meant 'get under him' in the sense that, if the opportunity presents itself, you need to have sex with Hawke. I know it sounds blunt, but that's the truth."
I figured as much, I thought, growing even more embarrassed. Out loud, I said, "That's kinda what I thought, and I won't deny that's something I want, but if it's not because we're in love, I'm not gonna just throw myself at him. Y'know what I mean? So I hope that isn't an order."
Marella
"Yes, Caitlin, I do know what you mean," I said, recalling some of the thoughts I'd had before Michael had confessed how he felt about me. "It's not that dissimilar to the feelings I had been hiding about Michael, before he was captured in East Germany. And, it's not an order, per se, but Michael and I would definitely feel better if we knew where you and Hawke stood with each other." And so would you, I thought, especially based on what I saw out there tonight.
"Thanks, Marella," Caitlin said, smiling. "I just hope—I hope it will happen someday." I gave her a quick hug, and said, "Don't worry, Caitlin. It will," before we went back to the table, and I found Lauren and Hawke sitting with Michael and Dom. Michael stood up as he saw us coming, and steered me a short distance away from the group.
"Everything okay, Marella?" Michael asked.
"I don't know, Michael," I replied, glancing at Hawke, then at Caitlin. "I think Cait got the message I was trying to tell her, but as for what Caitlin's going to do about it, we'll have to wait and see." Sighing, I took Michael's hand, and we walked back to the table and sat down. A few moments later, Hawke asked me to dance, and I saw my opportunity—and I've never been one to ignore an opportunity, especially one that's been practically handed to me, gift-wrapped, on the proverbial silver platter. I grabbed Michael's hand and said, "Sorry, Hawke, but I promised Michael a dance," and pulled my husband out of his seat. "Come on, Michael," I said, smiling at him, "Dance with your wife." Then, I noticed Dom standing up and asking Lauren to dance, which was a bonus that I hadn't thought of—but I owe you for that one, Dominic Santini, I thought excitedly, thinking Dom had figured out why I did what I did, and decided to help.
"Yes, ma'am," Michael said, smiling up at me as we walked out to the dance floor. I managed to glance over Michael's shoulder at the table, and could barely contain my excitement when I saw Hawke stand up and extend his hand to Caitlin, who finally took it after waiting what seemed like an eternity, and stood up. YES! I thought triumphantly, resolving to watch Hawke with Caitlin as closely as possible as they moved onto the dance floor.
Caitlin
"Caitlin, would you like to dance?" Hawke asked me. I looked up and saw him standing there, holding his hand out to me, and I knew I had to tell him something, but I felt my heart hammering in my throat, and I knew I couldn't say anything. I wondered how long he'd stand there waiting, and after I swallowed hard a couple of times, I finally managed to say, "String, I'd love to." Shyly, I stood up and took Hawke's hand as we moved out to the dance floor and I felt him wrap his arms around my waist, the way I'd always wanted him to. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to control my nerves—along with—other things that were making themselves known to me.
"So, what were you and Marella talkin' about?" Hawke asked me, and I could see the concern in his eyes, especially since he wasn't wearing his aviator shades, since we were indoors.
"Oh, girl talk, String," I said, trying to brush off his question. "Nothing you'd be interested in."
"Really?" He said, and I could tell he didn't believe me.
"Well," I said hesitantly, not sure how I would answer him, "if you absolutely have to know, String, we were talking about—you." Now that I'd finally gotten that much out, I felt an enormous sense of relief.
"Me?" Hawke said, and his face scrunched into that adorable deer-in-the-headlights look that he gets when he's either concentrating intensely on something, or confused as all get out.
"Yeah," I said hesitantly as I glanced over Hawke's shoulder and saw Marella looking at me.
Marella
Well, it's a beginning, I thought happily as I watched Hawke and Caitlin dancing together. Then I felt Michael pull back just enough to look me in the eye, and he saw what I was looking at when he turned us around.
"Did you do that?" He asked, and I turned my head to see Hawke and Caitlin still dancing together.
"Who, me?" I said to him. "Michael, why would you ever think something like that?" I grinned mischievously up at my husband just then.
"Because I know you, Marella, my dear," Michael replied, smiling at me. "And I know you've had ideas about getting Hawke and Caitlin together ever since they rescued me from East Germany. But, Marella, you know about..."
"Yes, Michael," I interrupted him. "I know all about the curse String thinks he has, that everyone he loves, or might love, will die. But he loves Dom, and he loves Le Van and Bobby; and that other boy, what was his name? Ho Minh?" I saw Michael nod slightly at that, and continued, "And they're all still alive. I know it doesn't outweigh everyone else he lost, but why can't Hawke see...?"
"I know," Michael said, shaking his head as we danced. "I know." From the tone of his voice, I got the impression that Michael had been down that road with Hawke many times before. Sighing, I laid my head on his shoulder and hoped that my plan had worked. And that Hawke doesn't decide he wants to kill me when he finds out about it, I said to myself worriedly.
Caitlin
I don't want this night to end, I thought ecstatically, even as I luxuriated in the feeling of having Hawke's arms around me, the way I'd always hoped and prayed they'd be, someday, as we danced. I recalled what Marella had said in the ladies' room—'You need to get over him, get under him, or get on with it!'
Well, getting over him or getting on with my life is out of the question, I thought. Even if I wanted to 'get over him,' I couldn't. As for 'getting under him,' I don't even wanna think about that right now. But, something in my expression must have tipped Hawke off, because he got concerned again and asked me another out-of-the-blue question.
"Cait? You okay?" Hawke said, startling me. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," I lied. Geez. Two lies in one night. And I've got a funny feeling String doesn't believe me any more than Marella did. I sure hope he can't tell how anxious I just got.
"Caitlin," String said, looking into my eyes, "I know you better than that. Something's wrong, and I want to know what it is. Please, Cait. Talk to me." I knew it. I felt myself growing even more anxious. He doesn't believe me. String wasn't wearing his aviator shades since we were indoors, and something seemed different when I looked up into his eyes. I saw—I dunno know exactly what I saw, to tell the truth—but it just seemed different.
"String, in the ladies' room a little while ago, Marella was sayin' I need to..." I couldn't bring myself to say the words, but finally, I did. I gotta tell him everything, I thought. Aloud, I said, "She said I need to get over you, or get on with it—get on with my life, I mean. But, I can't, String." I felt bad about not including the part where Marella had told me to "get under him," but I figured he didn't need to know that, yet.
"Why not?" String asked.
"Because, String," I said, gazing deep into his eyes, and reading something that I hadn't seen in a long time, a warmth—and a love—that filled me with courage and hope. "String, I can't do that because I—I love you." I felt my body relax in String's arms as I revealed the emotions that I'd kept secret in my heart for the past two years.
When a good thirty seconds had passed without hearing Hawke say a word to me, though, I gotta admit, the relaxation I'd temporarily felt disappeared immediately, and I felt my heart drop straight to the soles of my shoes. What? He—he can't respond to me. I shoulda just kept my big mouth shut, I tried to extricate myself from his arms, not wanting Hawke to see me cry, as he had so many times before, but I worried that I wouldn't be able to hold the tears back for long. And I realized that what I thought I saw in Hawke's eyes must've been wrong, which made me feel even worse than I already did. At that moment I just wanted to find a quiet corner somewhere, or maybe head back to the ladies' room, and try to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart and figure out what I was gonna do with the rest of my life, 'cause I sure as heck didn't want to stay in California, at least not at Santini Air, where I'd have to look at Hawke every day, knowing how much I loved him.
Before I could get free, though, I felt Hawke's arms tighten around me, as if he didn't want to let me go, and when I looked up at him, I saw—I saw him smiling, a smile I had only seen a few times since I'd known him. Then his words warmed my heart. "Caitlin, I—I love you, too." Then, he lowered his head towards mine, and then—he kissed me. He kissed me like I'd never been kissed before, even that kiss two years ago on the movie set, and my heart jumped back into my throat and lodged itself there again. I knew without even thinking about it that my toes were curling inside my shoes, and at that point, I didn't care. 'Course, I really couldn't think straight anyway, 'cause it felt like something had just short-circuited in my brain as I wrapped my arms back around String and kissed him back.
Marella
"Marella, sweetheart, look," Michael said to me as he turned us around so I could see Hawke and Caitlin over his shoulder—and what I saw made my heart leap for joy. YES! I thought excitedly, and Michael noticed my look of triumph.
"What on Earth did you say to her?" Michael asked me.
"I—I just told her she needed to get over String, get under him, or get on with it," I said, embarrassed when I repeated "get under him" like that.
"Get under him?" Michael asked, shocked. "Marella, you don't mean—I mean—you didn't tell Caitlin that"—
"Yes, Michael, I do mean that they need to have sex," I whispered, glancing at Hawke and Caitlin, still kissing, as I turned around again. And the way they look right now, I'd bet my next paycheck they're going to do something sooner rather than later.
Caitlin
'You need to get over him, get under him, or get on with it!' I heard Marella saying again. I couldn't deny the desires that were welling up inside me, even as I felt the region between my legs growing warm and wet. God, I want you, String. Then—I felt him against me. "String?" I asked hesitantly, once I felt like I could say anything.
"Cait," String said, looking down at me with that smile that I was totally in love with, "Do you wanna get out of here?" Boy, I'm glad he knew what I was thinkin', 'cause I do want to get outta here—badly.
"Yeah, String, I do. But we need to say somethin' to Michael and Marella," I whispered, wondering where this would lead. We quickly walked over to where Marella and Michael were dancing, and I told her what was going on between Hawke and me. She smiled and hugged me, and then Michael offered me a hug as well. We said good-bye to Michael and Marella, then I said, "We need to tell Dom, String."
"Yeah," String said, and we walked back over to the table. Dom had been watching us out on the dance floor, and was grinning wider than I'd ever seen him grin before. He gave both of us a quick hug and told us, "Congratulations, you two. I've been praying for this to happen for a long time, you know!" I smiled and agreed with Dom, then String and I walked out of the club over to my car.
"We going back to the hangar?" String said, curious.
"String," I said, my voice shaking, "let's—let's go to my place." I didn't quite know how he'd take that, and was preparing for whatever he might say or do.
When String didn't answer me right away, I got even more nervous. Finally, he said, "I—I think I'd like that." We got into my car and drove back to my house.
As we drove, I said, "Hey, String. Did you notice what happened when you said you loved me?"
He looked over at me with that adorable deer-in-the-headlights look and said, "Whataya mean, Cait? Nothing happened."
"Exactly," I said. "Nothing happened. The earth didn't open up and swallow me, lightning didn't strike and kill me, somebody didn't run up out of the crowd and grab me from behind. Do you get what I'm saying, here?"
String hesitated for a minute, then finally said, "Yeah, Cait. I think I really do get it." I glanced over at him and smiled, relieved that String might finally be trying to put some of his demons behind him.
By the time we got to my house, my desire for Hawke was running through me like lightning, and we were in each other's arms almost from the second we got out of the car. But wouldn't you know it? String pulled the handbrake again. "Caitlin," he said, and I immediately felt myself worrying again, "if this isn't what you want, you tell me. You tell me, right now!" Suddenly, it dawned on me why he was hesitating—he remembers what I told him about what Bogan's boys tried to do, and he doesn't want to bring back any bad memories—I thought, and the realization just made me love String—and want String—that much more.
"String, don't," I whispered, desperately trying to convey my desire for him, through my voice.
"Don't—what?" he demanded.
"Stop," I said as I pulled his body against mine, hoping that he could feel my desires the same way I could feel his. "Don't stop. This is what I want. I want you. What I don't want is to wait any more to have you. So quit stalling, take me upstairs, and make love to me, Stringfellow Hawke. Right now." And I kissed him again, stopping only when I felt him gather me into his arms and sweep me off my feet, as we headed up to my bedroom.
"Just be gentle, okay?" I asked, my cheeks turning a slight pink. "It's..."
"Your first time," Hawke replied, smiling lovingly at me, "I know." With those words, I knew I had nothing to fear, and gave myself to him completely.
When it was over, once I felt like I could construct a complete and coherent sentence, I made up my mind. He needs to know it all. Aloud, I said, "String? There's something I didn't tell you about what Marella told me back in the ladies' room tonight. She said—she said I needed to get over you, get under you, or get on with my life." Even though String and I had professed our love for each other, I still felt myself growing nervous again, as I'd revealed my full secret to String.
When he didn't respond for a few minutes, I got worried. Forget worried, I got scared to death. And the longer he hesitated, the more frightened I got, until he rolled me beneath him again and said, "Marella said that, did she? Well," he curled his upper lip in that boyish grin that I absolutely adore, and continued, "I hope I didn't disappoint you."
As I guided him back into me, I murmured, "String, trust me. You didn't disappoint me." Then I felt his lips capture mine again, and there was no more time for talk, as the passion and love we felt for each other unleashed themselves again.
I don't remember exactly when I suggested that String spend the weekend with me, or even if I was the one who suggested it, but I do remember the look on Dom's face when String and I got to the hangar Monday morning. I knew we'd be in trouble as soon as we got dressed—String in the same clothes he'd worn the previous Friday. Uh-oh. As soon as Dom sees String, he's gonna know something happened. All of a sudden, though, I didn't care, at least until we got to the hangar, and I saw the look on Dom's face. Oh, he was ticked off at first, because he didn't know that String and I had spent the weekend together, and was annoyed when he flew up to the cabin and found that String wasn't there—but, in our defense, we were occupied with other things, and hadn't even considered calling Dom to let him know that String was with me. But once we explained what had happened, and why String wasn't at the cabin—and why he came in with me, I swear, in the time I've known Dominic Santini, I have never seen him grin like that—even on Friday night. But I could tell he was happy for us, and I gotta admit, I was happy, too—Because I knew, finally, that Stringfellow Hawke was mine, and I was his. Oh, sure, it's not legal—yet—but that's just details. As far as I was concerned, after what happened over the weekend, there was no doubt in my mind that I'd be spending the rest of my life with Stringfellow Hawke. All the same—mental note to self: The next time you decide to have Hawke spend a night—or a weekend with you, make sure he's got a couple changes of clothes. And, make sure you've got the same up at the cabin. 'Cause I was suddenly thinking that String and I would be spending a lot more weekends together, if I had anything to say about it. I knew, after those last three magical nights together, that I didn't want to sleep alone again—ever. Then, we heard something outside, and noticed the FIRM's limousine pull up. Lauren stepped out and announced that we were to report to FIRM Headquarters, immediately.
"What is this all about?" Hawke asked, confused, especially since Michael and Marella weren't in the limousine, as per custom.
"That's for Michael to say," Lauren said, with a mysterious tone to her voice that I hadn't heard before.
Monday Morning, at FIRM Headquarters
Marella
"Well, Marella, what do you think happened after they left on Friday?" Michael asked me in his office. "I mean, I know what Caitlin said, but..."
"But you're still worried," I said, and admitted, "Me, too. I've been worried ever since Caitlin and String told us they were leaving the restaurant on Friday night." And, Michael had noticed it. I mean, I know Hawke as well as anybody, except maybe Dominic, and the thought that he would flip out, and go back into full-blown silent mode again, had been one that had crossed my mind numerous times since I saw them leave the restaurant.
"Well," Michael said, "I suppose we'll find out when they get here." Of course, I knew that Michael had sent Lauren and the limousine to get Hawke, Dom, and Caitlin. And, I knew the reason why. Over the weekend, something had happened—String's brother Saint John had finally come home. It turned out, Michael and I learned during the debriefings, that Saint John had been freed from his NVA captors shortly before the end of the war, but that another division of the CIA had approached him, along with several other former POW's, and suggested that they form a clandestine unit, capable of strike missions, recon—anything that might be required of them. Actually, not too different from what Stringfellow, Dominic, and Caitlin do with Airwolf. From what Saint John told us, I got the impression that we owed him for averting World War III almost as much as we owed String, Caitlin, and Dom. But, agents from the FIRM recently caught up with Saint John's unit, and convinced them to disband, saying that with recent changes in world politics, their services were no longer required. So, Saint John was waiting, and I knew he was anxious about seeing Dom and String again. And, Michael and I discovered two things after the debriefings—both Le Van and Ho Minh were Saint John's sons. We were able to do DNA testing with samples we'd obtained from both boys, and they matched with Saint John perfectly. And for some strange reason, I remembered what I said to Dominic Friday night after Hawke and Caitlin had left, about when he asked Lauren to dance.
"Dominic," I'd said, "I—um—I owe you one, for asking Lauren to dance like you did." I figured that Dom would never let me forget what I'd just said, which was the reason I was so nervous about saying it in the first place.
"Forget it, Marella," Dom had said, surprising the heck out of me. "We're even. After all, you did ask Michael to dance right after String asked you, and I figured he'd turn around and ask Lauren again if I didn't stick my nose in. So after I did, he finally decided to ask Cait. And the rest, like they say, is history!" From his grin just then, I knew that, other than String and Caitlin, Dom was the happiest person in the world. Don't get me wrong—I was happy, too, that Hawke had finally figured out his feelings, but I was still worried—after all, I know Stringfellow Hawke, and I know that he can flip out and go right back to full-fledged silent mode faster than Airwolf –under full turbos—can accelerate to Mach 1. So until we had a chance to talk to Hawke and Cait, I was considering the situation to still be 'fluid,' as we like to say in our business.
Just then, I heard the door to Michael's office buzz open, and Dom, Caitlin, and String walked in. It does feel strange, thinking of him as 'String,' after calling him 'Hawke' for four years, I said to myself. But I knew we couldn't just call him "Hawke" anymore, with Saint John home. I figured I'd worry about that later, though, as I had more important questions on my mind. I quickly walked over to Caitlin, and, seeing the smile on her face, I had a feeling I knew what had gone on, but I kept my question a secret until Dom and String moved to the opposite end of the room with Michael.
Finally, when I thought everybody but String was out of earshot, I said, "So, you 'got under him,' I gather?" The ear-to-ear grin that Caitlin wore, along with the fact that Hawke walked into the office in the same outfit he was wearing Friday night at the restaurant, gave it away, but I wanted to hear it from her.
Caitlin
"Yeah," I sighed, and I think Marella could tell that I was remembering the events of the weekend. "In fact, I spent a good portion of the weekend under him," I said, my cheeks turning a slight pink. "We ended up spending the whole weekend together. Marella, thanks. If you hadn't said that Friday night..." My voice broke and I couldn't finish my sentence, but I hoped Marella knew what I was trying to say.
"Don't mention it, Caitlin," Marella said, smiling. "I figured it was the least I could do, after what you did when Michael was captured in East Germany. But I do have to say that I'm very happy for you." Marella smiled and gave me a warm, friendly embrace as Dom, String, and Michael walked over, and she noticed String reaching for me almost immediately, sliding his arm around my shoulders as my arm slipped around his waist and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
"By the way," Michael said, getting our attention, "There's actually another reason I called you all here this morning, other than Marella's and my—mutual curiosity, shall I say—about what happened with Hawke and Cait after they left us on Friday night, and, I'm glad to see things went well," Michael said, eliciting smiles from both String and me. Now, don't worry," he added, noting the expressions on all three of our faces, "this isn't a mission. This is—well, there's someone here who wants to say hello." I heard the door to the outer office buzz, and watched as a strange man walked into Michael's office. But somethin' seems familiar about him, I said to myself. I swore I'd seen that face before, even though I couldn't place it.
Marella
To say Stringfellow Hawke was shocked would, in my estimation, have been the understatement of the year—no, make that the understatement of the century. "S—Saint John?" He finally stammered. "Is—is that really you?" Of course, I knew how a group of terrorists had captured Hawke, and nearly captured Airwolf, by having someone masquerade as Hawke's brother. But we'd used every DNA test and other identification method at our disposal. There was no doubt in our minds who was standing in front of Stringfellow Hawke.
"Yeah, String," Saint John replied, his voice thick with emotion. "It's me. I'm home, little brother!" String wrapped one arm around his older brother, even as he kept his other arm around Caitlin. Dom walked over and joined the group hug a few seconds later.
Finally, Stringfellow separated them and looked at Caitlin, and I wondered why he hadn't introduced her yet. He smiled and said, "Before I make the introduction, there's something I want to do." He reached into his bomber jacket pocket, and pulled out a worn-looking maroon and gold velvet box. Opening the box to reveal a stunning two-carat diamond ring, he got on one knee and said, "Caitlin O'Shannessy, will you marry me?"
Caitlin
"Caitlin O'Shannessy, will you marry me?" I heard the words come out of String's mouth a few seconds after we'd learned that his older brother, Saint John, was alive. I couldn't believe it. At a moment like this, he asked me to marry him! For a few seconds, I stood, stunned, and unable to find my voice. Finally, I felt my voice coming back to me, and whispered, "Yes, String. God, yes, of course I'll marry you!" I smiled as I offered my left hand and String slipped the engagement ring onto it. Then, after he stood up and kissed me again, he turned to Saint John and said, "Now, then. Saint John Hawke, I want you to meet Caitlin O'Shannessy, my fiancée." Saint John smiled warmly at me, and gave me a friendly peck on the cheek.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Caitlin. And congratulations," Saint John said.
"Thanks on both counts, Saint John," I said, beaming. Now I know where I've seen his face before, I thought, recalling the pictures behind the bar back at the cabin. But I know why I didn't recognize him. He was younger then. Suddenly, I remembered hearing String say 'I want you to meet Caitlin O'Shannessy, my fiancée.' I can't believe it, but we're engaged! I thought excitedly, pulling myself out of my thoughts when I heard String ask Michael a question.
String turned to Michael and asked, "When did this happen, Michael?"
"We got word Saturday morning that Saint John was coming back to the States. I'll let him explain the details to you, Stringfellow," Michael said, smiling.
Saint John proceeded to explain to String, Dom, and me how he'd been doing undercover work for the past fourteen years, after he'd been freed from his NVA captors. I could tell String was wrestling with his emotions, and, not wanting anything to spoil the day, I said, "String, if it helps, I think I understand why Saint John did what he did. Don't hold that against him. Especially not today." I gave him my best "million-dollar smile," hoping that he'd get the message.
"Saint John," String said, and I was worried about what was going to happen, but String quickly allayed my fears. "I—I forgive you. We'll talk about this later, but for now, Caitlin's right. Nothing should ruin this day. And, nothing will."
"Wait a minute. Michael, who the hell is this guy, and what the hell did he do with my little brother?" Saint John demanded, but we all could see the smile on his face. Finally, Saint John said, "Thank you, String," Saint John said, then turned to me. "And thank you, Caitlin. I can already see the effect you've had on String. Please, don't ever stop whatever you've done."
"Don't worry, Saint John," I said, smiling at String. "I don't plan on it."
"Um, String," Saint John said, surprised, "was that...?"
"Yeah, Saint John," String replied, and I wondered what they were talking about. String answered my unspoken question a moment later, though. "It was Mom's ring. You remember the note, don't you?" I had to ask what String was talking about, and he told me that when he and Saint John were at their parents' will reading, the attorney had read a handwritten note that String had found in Jane's personal effects, which included the ring I now wore on my finger. The note said if Jane passed away before either String or Saint John got married, that whichever of the boys, String or Saint John, got married first, he was to give the ring to his intended. I felt a tear come to my eye when String explained it, but he and Saint John both assured me that their mother would be happy that String had finally settled down, and would be proud that I was wearing her ring. I certainly couldn't argue with that, I remembered thinking later. I also was surprised to find that Jane's ring fit my finger perfectly. If that doesn't prove that String and I belong together, then I don't know what does, I thought.
"String?" Saint John was talking again. "Isn't this a little—sudden? I mean..."
"Sinj," String interrupted his older brother, "you don't know this, but Cait and I have known each other for three years." Even though the first year we knew each other had been rocky, especially after Michael's kidnapping, I had been seeing signs that things were changing well before Marella made that comment to me in the ladies' room. I just hadn't thought that everything would fall into place quite as quickly as it did.
"Okay, little brother," Saint John replied, then added, "Um, wait a minute, String. I certainly hope that Caitlin's not..."
I felt my cheeks turning red again, because I knew what Saint John was thinking long before String interrupted him. "No, Sinj," String said with a shake of his head. "Caitlin's not pregnant." I heard Saint John's sigh of relief at String's statement, and I stifled a laugh of my own. Not—yet, anyway, I thought, even as I imagined how my mother would react to the news that String had finally pulled his head out of his behind and asked me to marry him.
Six months later...
Marella
I cannot believe this has happened, I said to myself as my personal assistant, Jacqueline, finished Caitlin's hair and makeup before she got married to String. If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was dreaming.
Caitlin
"I know what you mean, Marella," I said, smiling at her.
"What?" Marella asked me.
"I feel like I'm dreaming too," I said. After String proposed so unexpectedly six months ago, we decided we'd wait at least this long before we got married, to figure out if this was really what we wanted. I knew Mom would give me all kinds of grief if she thought I'd rushed into getting married—and she did, even askin' me if I was pregnant, which didn't surprise me at all. Some people might think it was a little weird, String proposing and then how we did a six-month "courtship" after the fact, but I figured we'd known each other for three years before everything fell together. Like I said before, I hadn't expected it to fall together so quickly, but now that it has, it just felt right. Don't ask me why, though, 'cause I'm not too sure I can explain it myself. But over the course of the past six months, I fell even more deeply in love with Hawke than I thought I could have fallen for anyone, and he fell just as deeply in love with me. I know I'm probably repeating myself—I do that when I get excited—but Mom gave me a lot of grief for doing things "backwards" the way we did—getting engaged first, and then doing the whole dating bit, but I just told her, "When have I ever done anything the easy—or "normal" way, Mom?" She had to agree with me, even though it wasn't easy getting her to completely understand my way of thinking. Not that she was complaining about the result, mind you. Dom and my mother are probably the two happiest people in the world right now—other than String and me—but it was the method that had her a little befuddled, and I guess I could understand that. And, Mom asked if I was pregnant, just like Saint John had the day he came home. "No, Mom," I said, hoping my tone of voice would convey how embarrassed I was. "I'm not pregnant." Then, Mom turned right around and said she hoped that wasn't going to be a permanent condition, now that String and I were getting married. Not if I have anything to say about it, I remembered thinking. I mean, if anybody wants a grandchild—or two—to spoil more than my mother, it's Dom. And I have to admit, ever since String and I got together, I've been thinkin' about a little girl—with String's blue eyes and my red hair—barging into the sleeping loft at some ungodly hour on Christmas morning to wake us up so we could open presents. Hopefully, someday—soon, we'll see that for real.
One night, about two months after String proposed, I finally asked him why he did it that day, especially since we'd only spent that one magical weekend together. I knew after that, like I said before, that I wanted to marry String—I just didn't think he'd ask me that day, after finding out that his brother was still alive. He said he didn't really know why he did it...but it just felt like the right thing to do. Then he turned around and tried to tell me that he didn't expect that I'd actually hold him to his proposal—I remember I grabbed his face in my hands and said, "Like hell I'm not gonna hold you to that, Stringfellow Hawke! I love you, and I want to be your wife, so much! String," I said hesitantly, "ever since I met you, all I ever wanted was for you to love me the same way I love you." String smiled and said, "Well, I guess you got your wish, Cait."
I sighed with relief. Finally. Out loud I said, "I'm glad to hear that, String. But, let me tell you somethin'—if you think I'm gonna let you try to weasel out of getting married, then my friend, you've got another think coming!" And I kissed him to seal my declaration—now that String and I were engaged, there was no way I was gonna let him back out on his proposal to me. And he told me something else—it turned out Lauren had been talking to him while they were dancing, and she told Hawke that he needed to start smiling at me the same way he'd been smiling at her that night. Turned out Lauren had kinda the same feelings Marella did—that I liked String—except, she kinda got the feeling that String 'liked' me, too—he was just afraid to say it. Well, he finally said it. And nothin' bad happened to me when he did say it, either.
So today, finally, String and I were going to seal our love, with our closest friends, and my family, there to witness it.
Marella
"How the heck did you...oh, never mind," I said, surprised that Caitlin had been able to pick up on what I was thinking. I really shouldn't be, though. It's probably written all over my face. I have to admit, I was happy that String had finally buried, at least partially, the ghosts from his past. Between getting together with Caitlin, and Saint John being home, String's almost a whole different person, I thought as the wedding party got ready. Dom would be escorting Caitlin "down the aisle," which was actually the walkway to the dock of String's cabin, and Caitlin's sister Erin was her maid of honor. I was a little shocked when Caitlin asked me to be her matron of honor, but as she pointed out, I was like another sister to her, not to mention the fact that it had been my "ultimatum" that gave her the courage to confess her feelings for String—which had allowed them to get to this point—so it wouldn't be right, at least in her eyes, not to include me—and, I was grateful for the inclusion. And, contrary to what I was so worried about before, String and I are still friends. I will admit, I was worried for a while, especially when he didn't speak to me for so long after the surprise proposal to Caitlin, but String finally pulled me aside while Michael was going over a few details with Saint John.
"Marella," Hawke said with a scowl on his face that I knew all too well—which made me nervous. "We need to talk."
Swallowing the lump of fear that was welling up in my throat, I said, "Okay, String. What's on your mind?" I had to admit—after thinking of him as just "Hawke" for the past four years, it felt strange calling String by his first name—but I knew I had to. I couldn't just call him "Hawke" anymore, what with Saint John being home.
"Did you really say that to Caitlin last Friday night?" Hawke asked me, and the sudden change in String's expression, and his tone of voice, told me exactly what he was referring to.
"Yes, String. I did tell Caitlin what she needed to do as far as you were concerned," I said, and was surprised to see a genuine smile on String's face—something I hadn't seen a whole lot of—until Friday night, that is.
"Thank you, Marella," String said, surprising me. "I—that is—we—appreciate it. And I know you must have been worried about how I'd react when I found out."
"That's putting it mildly, Stringfellow," I said, smiling at him as Caitlin walked over to join us. "I was scared to death about how you'd react when you found out." String simply smiled again and gave me a friendly embrace, then said, "We owe you one, Marella."
"String," I said, "I owed you, and Caitlin, for everything you did to bring Michael home to us—and, to me. So, we're even, okay?"
"Okay, Marella," String answered me.
The wedding was a small affair—Just String and Caitlin, Dom, Saint John as best man, Erin as maid of honor, me as matron of honor, Michael, Caitlin's mother Maggie, and Saint John's son Le Van, along with Judge Ronald Clevenger, who had married Michael and me, and was an old friend of Michael's, along with having been part of the FIRM's legal counsel until a year ago. And Lauren, of course—for some strange reason, I forgot I hadn't been flying when we came up to the cabin for the ceremony. None of us were surprised to see Caitlin's eyes full of tears as she recited her vows, but I think Michael, Dom, Saint John and I were very surprised to see String's eyes filled with them, as he recited his.
Caitlin
"Stringfellow Hawke, do you take Caitlin O'Shannessy to be your lawful wedded wife?" Judge Clevenger asked.
"I do," String replied as he slipped the wedding ring onto my finger, and I noticed the tears in his eyes. Of course, I knew my eyes were full of them, and at that point, I didn't care.
"Caitlin O'Shannessy, do you take Stringfellow Hawke to be your lawful wedded husband?"
With all the love I felt for String shining in my eyes, I stated proudly, "Yes. I do," as I slipped String's wedding band onto his finger. That brought the tears full force out of String's eyes as well.
"Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of California...I pronounce that you are husband and wife. You may now..." I heard Judge Clevenger stop in the middle of his sentence as String reached for me and claimed my lips with his own in a passionate kiss. I was so swept up in the moment that I barely heard Judge Clevenger's next words. "...continue kissing the bride. Ladies and gentlemen, I present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Stringfellow Hawke!" Finally, I felt String separate us, after what I thought was far too short a time.
"I love you, Stringfellow Hawke," I murmured, gazing into his ice-blue eyes.
"And I love you, Caitlin Hawke," he replied, just before he kissed me again. At that moment, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was the luckiest, and the happiest woman on the face of the Earth. Even happier than Mom, I thought. Caitlin Hawke. Mrs. Stringfellow Hawke. It didn't matter which way I heard it, I knew I'd never get tired of hearin' my new last name, because it meant that we finally belonged to each other,now and forever. I was thrilled, and elated to finally be Mrs. Stringfellow Hawke. And that night, when we went upstairs to bed after everyone had left, I proceeded to show Hawke just how happy I was to be his wife. As I snuggled tighter against String's body when it was over, I thought about everything that had happened since that day when Marella told me I needed to "get over him, get under him, or get on with it!" Well, Marella, I thought as I stared at the most precious pieces of jewelry I owned—my wedding and engagement rings—one final time before sleep finally claimed me, I guess I did 'get on with it', but not without the man I love. And now we belong to each other. For now, and forever. I sighed happily as I fell asleep wrapped in the embrace of my husband, and pondered the future.
