Hostage

Notes:
1) This story is set at the end of season 1, I'd say around the time when Steve broke his arm. That means there are just Steve, Danny, Chin and Kono, no Doris, no Lori, no Grover, no Jerry... Kamakona sells shaved ice instead of shrimps. The Camaro is silver instead of black. Governor Jameson is doing her job…. Oh, and of course Danny still wears a tie :-)

2) English is not my native language, so please forgive my mistakes.

Disclaimer:
Unfortunately I still don't own anything of Hawaii Five-0, it all belongs to CBS – I'm just playing and whumping a little bit.

Thanks:
rewob17, thanks a lot for your help – as always I enjoyed our conversations very much!
JazzieG, thank you so much for betaing! I don't know how I can ever repay you.


Chapter 1:

Robert 'Bobby' Blake was sitting next to his lawyer, the gaze from his watery blue eyes fixed on the judge in front of them. He saw the man's mouth moving but he honestly didn't care a bit what the old fool had to say. Sighing silently, Bobby tried to at least look as if he was listening; for the moment he was willing to play along but only because he knew that this whole farce would soon be over.

Shifting his weight a little bit, he slightly bent forward and a little bit to the left to throw a look at his lawyer's expensive, golden Rolex. Blake smiled grimly when the clock-hand finally approached the eight o'clock mark – soon, very soon he would be reunited with his lovely wife and then they could finally finish the task they had started almost three years ago.

Hearing the shackles around his ankles rattle faintly with every move he made, he leaned back in his chair and thought about his current situation. Briefly glancing at the judge who was still talking about all the nasty crimes Christine and Robert Blake had committed, Bobby slightly rolled his shoulders and enjoyed the feeling that for the first time in over a year he didn't have to wear that ugly orange prison jumpsuit. Ever since he had been a child, he hated the color orange; he wasn't exactly sure why but he supposed it had something to do with his father. He had only very few memories of the man who had killed his mother and his little sister when Bobby was only five years old but most of the time he pictured his father in shackles and an orange jumpsuit.

Robert huffed out a grim snort and ignored the angry look of his lawyer as he tried to chase away the unpleasant memories of his father. After all, he was nothing like his father, right? Of course, he had also killed people, but contrary to his father he would never – never in a thousand years – hurt his lovely wife, the best thing that had ever happened in his life.

Smiling fondly when he thought about the woman he loved with all his heart, Bobby cast down his eyes and looked at his hands that lay folded on the table in front of him. He had absolutely no idea how a woman like Christine could fall for a guy like him, a shabby surfer type guy with a crooked nose and unruly sandy curls, but he was clever enough not to question her choice.

Christine Blake, née van Hagen, came from a wealthy, renowned family; her parents, both of them successful business people, had always hoped that Christine would follow in their footsteps and take over their company but as soon as she had met her future husband at a campus party she had dropped out of university and worked as a waitress ever since. The couple had married only two weeks after their first meeting; feeling that they were soul mates they decided they didn't need anyone else, left everything behind and moved to Alabama to start a new life.

Raising his shackled hands, Bobby tugged at the fabric of his light blue dress shirt and briefly traced his fingers over his chest. He smiled affectionately when he thought about the brand-new tattoo that covered his skin, right above his heart. The new artwork was a surprise for his wife and it had been finished only the night before; the skin around the colored lines was still red and slightly swollen.

Robert had been delighted when he had found out that you could get everything in prison, be it drugs, tattoos or information. You just had to know the right people or pay enough money; and being a serial killer obviously helped a lot to meet the right people.

He dropped his hands back onto the table, not caring about the annoyed looks of the judge and the low, angry whisper from his lawyer. He concentrated on the image of the multicolored tattoo and literally felt every single line, the pain almost as real as if it was made right now. The heart-shaped artwork contained not only his and Christine's initials but also a reminder of all of their victims; eleven little stars so far and Bobby hoped that once they were finished that exactly fifty stars were engraved into his skin.

Robert and Christine Blake had started their 'career' about three years ago in Montgomery, Alabama where they had silently lived up to that special day in October 2008 when they had suddenly decided to murder people all around the US. Innocent people of all race and gender whose only fault it was to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

They always killed their victims with a single gunshot directly to the heart, undressed them and wrapped them in a US national flag. They cut out one of the fifty stars of the flag and sealed the gunshot wound in the chest with the star-shaped fabric before they left the body in front of the capital's city hall for public display.

No one knew what caused them to start their killing spree, or why they chose a particular victim or how they planned the time of their next attack; the only thing that was clear was that the couple worked themselves through all the US states in alphabetical order.

The first victim in Alabama was a retired teacher from their neighborhood, a lovely seventy-year-old grandfather who had just bought himself the vintage Porsche he had dreamt about his whole life.

The second victim in Alaska was a sixteen year old girl who had disappeared on her way to school and had been found dead two days later.

The third one in Arizona was a physically fit Ex-Marine; followed by a politician, a homeless junkie and a nurse in three more states. And it went on like this for almost two years until they arrived in Hawaii in early summer 2010 where HPD had finally been able to catch Robert Blake, unfortunately not before the couple had killed their eleventh victim. Bobby had then sacrificed himself so that his wife Christine had been able to get away.

Never before had they been separated for such a long time and the longer he sat in front of the judge, the more Robert longed for his wife. For almost a whole year he hadn't seen her, hadn't held her, hadn't kissed her; he had only heard from her sporadically through the dark prison channels, secretly planning their reunion.

Nervously fidgeting in his chair, Bobby threw another look at his lawyer's watch. It was exactly eight o'clock and suddenly, from one second to the other, Robert felt how all the little hairs on his arms slowly rose up. His skin prickled with excitement and he forced himself to sit still – his wife was near, he was sure of that.

A millisecond later Bobby whirled around when two shots rang out and the door to the courtroom was thrown open with a loud bang. His breath caught in his throat and for a long moment he just stared; there she was, his wife, his Christine, standing in the doorframe like a beautiful, dark avenging angel.

He almost didn't notice the small, maybe 8-year-old boy that she held hostage, a gun tightly pressed against his temple, because he had only eyes for the woman he loved. Her copper red hair was a bit shorter than he remembered but the thick plait still almost reached her hips. With her black boots, the tight-fitting black leather pants and the black leather jacket Christine looked like a mixture from Terminator and Lara Croft; she was definitely the most beautiful thing Bobby had ever seen.

"Nobody moves," Christine said loudly, her bell-like voice easily reaching the end of the courtroom. She briefly looked down at the dark-haired boy in her grip and almost tenderly caressed his face with the barrel of her gun. "Or the boy dies," she added coldly.

Slowly shuffling across the room with the child still in front of her, Christine finally locked eyes with her husband and very tentatively both of them started to smile.

"Hello sweetheart," Robert said hoarsely, not daring to avert his eyes from his wife. His heart went a mile a minute, feeling like it would burst any moment and his hands trembled in excitement when he thought about the fact that he would soon be able to touch her again.

"Bobby," Christine breathed in response, lasciviously licking her bright red lips. "I missed you."

Looking around, the red-haired woman laughed out cheerfully when she realized that their plan really seemed to work. "Good job, Marty," she said, nodding at her husband's lawyer who grinned smugly and wordlessly nodded back at her.

Due to the abomination of their actions, the Blake case had made massive waves and no one was interested in creating a public turmoil so Marty Sanders, Bobby's lawyer, had arranged that today's hearing took place very early in the morning, without acknowledgement of the public or the press and with minimal security details. Only a handful of people knew that Robert Blake was in the court building that day and except for the judge and his aid, the attorney, Robert's lawyer and two police officers the room was empty. There had been two more officers outside the room, guarding the door, but remembering the two gunshots, Bobby assumed correctly that both men were probably dead.

"Put your weapons on the floor and kick them over," Christine ordered, briefly waving her gun at the two police officers. "And don't try anything stupid or the boy is dead," she repeated her threat from before, making her point clear by forcefully shoving the weapon back against the boy's head, bluntly ignoring the pained whimper that escaped his mouth.

Exchanging a quick look, the two police officers hesitated for a moment but then they realized that they stood no other chance than following Christine's orders and slowly disposed of their weapons.

"Thank you very much, Gentlemen," the red-haired woman smiled humorlessly. "I see you know how to follow orders. That might save us a lot of trouble." Taking a few steps backwards to have a better field of fire, she narrowed her eyes as she gave further instructions. "Now free my husband. Then take his shackles and your own handcuffs and tie up those fools and yourselves," she said, pointing at the judge, his aid and the attorney.

Impatiently observing every move, Christine sucked on her lower lip and nervously tapped her right foot. She didn't allow herself to take a closer look at her husband because she knew that one glance into his lovely light blue eyes was enough to make her come undone. So she kept her eyes on the police officers, making sure that the handcuffs were tightly in place and that everyone – except Robert's lawyer – was in restraints. No longer in need of a hostage she released her grip on the little boy and rudely pushed him away, not caring at all that he stumbled forward and fell to the floor.

"Gag them all," she said to the lawyer, finally daring to face her husband. "Make sure they don't sound the alarm before we have left the building." Her fingertips began to tingle in anticipation and her breath quickened when she suddenly found herself face to face with Robert.

"I missed you," Christine repeated, slowly raising her left hand that didn't hold the weapon. Her fingers trembled slightly when she hesitantly cupped Bobby's cheek and she briefly had to close her eyes to deal with the onslaught of emotions. "Kiss me," she whispered and a heartbeat later she moaned with joy and pleasure when Robert's lips touched her own.

"We have to go," Bobby whispered breathlessly after one or two minutes of passionate kissing, playfully squeezing Christine's butt before he turned around and bent down to pick up the police officers' weapons, tucking both guns into the waistband of his jeans. As much as he longed for his wife, he knew that now was not the time to get lost in their feelings; they would have enough time later to celebrate their reunion but now they needed to leave the building before anyone realized what was going on. They had maybe a few more minutes to get away undetected before the courthouse would start into its busy daily routine and the corridors would be swamped with employees and visitors.

Knowing that her husband was right, Christine heaved a disappointed sigh and grudgingly nodded her agreement; after a year without him the short kiss had been nothing more than an evil teaser that didn't satisfy her at all.

"What do you want to do with him?" Robert asked, disparagingly nodding toward his lawyer who had just gagged the other five men and was now approaching the waiting couple.

"I think we don't need him anymore, do we?" Christine answered with an indifferent shrug of her shoulders. To be honest, she had never liked the man and she knew that Robert felt the exact same way; he had been extremely helpful in planning today's actions but now he was just a burden. She briefly smiled at her husband and then, without further hesitation, she raised her weapon, pointed it at Marty Sanders' forehead and pulled the trigger.

The loud bang drowned out the collective gasp of horror from the other men in the room, and they unconsciously clustered closer together when Robert turned around to face them. "Goodbye Gentlemen," he said, bowing slightly and doffing an imaginary hat. "It's been a pleasure," he added sarcastically before he stepped over the dead body of his lawyer and yanked up the boy who was still sitting motionlessly on the floor.

"Come on, kid, we have to go," Bobby said, pressing one of his newly acquired weapons against the child's temple, just like Christine had done before, and without another look back he marched out of the room, the boy in front of him and his wife at his side.

Except for the two dead police officers in front of the court room the corridors were indeed still completely empty so that the three of them made it to the exit without difficulties.

"Hey sweetheart, where did you find him?" Bobby suddenly asked, turning his head to throw a curious look at his beautiful wife. "He was just perfect," he said, giving the boy in his grip a proud little shake.

"Just picked him up in front of some school," Christine shrugged her shoulders. "Thought he could be useful," she said, quickly leaning toward her husband to steal a kiss.

"Do you want to keep him?" Bobby teased her, knowing exactly how much his wife despised children.

Stopping dead in her tracks, the red-haired woman glared at her husband, frowning in anger. "No way," she huffed out, forcefully shaking her head. "Get rid of him."

"As you wish, milady," Robert said, grinning brightly when his gaze fell onto a small door to his right.

The supply closet provided just enough space and after effectively tying up the boy's hands and feet with a piece of wire he had found on one of the shelves Bobby crouched down and locked eyes with the weeping child. "If you call for help or try to get out of here I'll come back and kill you," he said coldly, dangerously narrowing his eyes. "Don't tell anybody what happened, do you hear me?"

"Good boy," Robert added with a humorless smile when the boy finally nodded shakily. He quickly turned off the light and closed the door before he put his right arm around his wife's waist and led her outside toward the parking lot.

Breathing in the fresh air of the early morning, Bobby stopped for a moment and turned his face toward the sun. A joyful smile slowly appeared on his lips when he realized that he was no longer a prisoner; he was finally free, free to do whatever he wanted to and to go wherever he wanted to.

Christine smiled fondly when she watched the display of emotions on Robert's face. The year without him had been so hard but now they were reunited and she swore to herself that nothing and no one would be able to separate them again.

"We need a car," the red-haired woman said hoarsely, pulling her husband into a tight embrace and kissing him passionately when the desire to touch him suddenly became overwhelming. She didn't seem to care anymore if they got caught, moaning gutturally when he reacted to her kiss and ran his hand up and down her back.

"Pick one, sweetheart," Robert whispered between two kisses, lazily waving around the parking lot. "They're all yours."

Giggling huskily, Christine reluctantly ended the kiss and slowly turned around her own axis. "I want…" she drawled, licking her red lips as she looked for a car that matched her ideas. "This one," she exclaimed happily, her green eyes glistening in anticipation when she raised her right hand and pointed at the silver Chevrolet Camaro that had just turned into an empty parking space.

(tbc)


I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, even if we didn't see much of Five-0 – I promise there will be a lot of Steve and Danny (and the rest of the team) in all the other chapters. There will also be a good amount of whump and, of course, the one or other cliffhanger ;-)

Against all reason and against my own promise I started to post the story despite the fact that it's not finished yet, so feel free to nag me about working on it at any time. However, there will be regular updates; you will get a new chapter once a week.