Summary: With help from an undercover Vice officer, 5-0 must investigate the murders of several prostitutes. Set in season one, no slash but a little Danny romance cuz I'm sick of the abuse Rachel puts him through. .
Author's Note: I came up with this idea and thought it was so much better than my last one, so I just had to write it. ^^ I'll probably take the other one down (titled Lost at Sea) because I'm not going to continue with it. This plot just works so much better. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! It's set during the first season mainly because I don't know where they're going with the second season…not that it really matters as this is fanfiction…
Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii 5-0.
Author's Note (again XD): I don't know anything about police procedure so I just made it up as I went along. I hope it sounds believable! And this story hasn't been betad so all mistakes are mine.
Author's note one more time, I promise: I'm loading this again because the first time I did, I don't think it worked. If it ends up with two of this story being published, I'm sorry! I'll take this one down if that happens, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong, so here we go.
Chapter One
I have this theory. Being a female police officer is like being a powder-puff football player on the boy's team: you can play the game and even be good at it, but the guys are always afraid they'll hurt you. Being a female Haole on the Honolulu PD is more like being the powder-puff football player at a cricket tournament: you just plain don't belong and it's totally obvious to everyone. I've had plenty of time to come to terms with this as I'd been working for HPD for six years but it still caused a major thorn in my side. Of course I can't say I wasn't a thorn in their side either, which is how I ended up in Vice, working undercover in the red light district for five of those years.
It was to this red light district that I was heading for on a mild day in October, my head down, my stride purposeful as I made my way to my corner. Part of undercover work required a certain mind frame to get into character and blend in with those you were trying to convince you weren't a cop. So naturally, I worked a corner, decked out in a micro mini skirt, a stretchy tube top that exposed enough cleavage to be believable and enough tummy to show off my belly button ring, fish net tights and heels the size of Texas that boosted me up from my five foot four inches to five foot I'm now a giant. My hair was curled and fluffed to add a couple more inches and I was ready for work. When I made it to my corner, I noted the unmarked van a few blocks away. My back-up. Though it was anybody's guess if there was actually anyone in the van. Vice wasn't exactly strict on back up for the Haole, which was fine with me. Who needed them? I worked just fine on my own.
As if to prove my point, I turned my nose up and faced the other direction, chest puffed out and street wise attitude seeping out of my pores.
"Uh-oh, what's with that face?" Starla, one of the girls that worked the corner for real asked as she joined me. She was a local, her Hawaiian heritage stretching her too-small spandex dress to its limits. Of all the people I worked with, fellow HPD officers included, I trusted Starla the most. She didn't know I was a cop, but the five years I'd been undercover working the streets, she'd had my back.
"See that van down the street?" I grinned, jerking my thumb in the general direction. When Starla nodded, I said, "Guy thinks I come cheap. Thinks he can have a good time with fifty bucks and a six pack of beer."
"Damn lolo," Starla glared at the van, hands on hips. "He tries to pick me up, I'll shove my stiletto up his ass."
I grinned and hoped there was someone in the van, listening to the conversation through the tiny ear bud I had hidden in my ear.
As the sun started to go down and the night crowd started to come out in full force, I kept a careful eye out watching the drug dealers, noting the junkies and relaying to the van any helpful information when I could. When a girl would accept a job and climb into a car with a paying customer, I would mumble the license plate number. If the job was done right, the guys in the van would send a car out to pick up the troublemakers before they could have too much fun. Most of the time, it was just wasted effort on my part. If the bust wasn't going to lead us to some big fish, there wasn't a big hurry to catch them. Still, I had to do my job or the captain would have my ass.
Around midnight, Starla got picked up by a little Chinese man with slick hair and roaming hands who went by the name Ming Na. He was harmless enough so when he picked up Starla, I conveniently was looking the other direction. I would probably get chewed out by my boss later, but Starla was a friend. She was a single mom from a family of junkies and most of her earnings went into a private bank account for her little girl's future education. Who was I to deny a little girl a chance to go to college?
Around one, a slimy guy with 500-proof breath tried to put some moves on me. Since I was rarely seen getting into a car (an occasional pick-up from one of my fellow officers just to add some credit to the story) my reputation wasn't the best as a hooker and the regulars all knew it. This guy wasn't a regular so I flattered him around the block to a cheap motel where rates were by the hour. I got a room, handcuffed his already-naked-overeager ass to the bed post and he was zonked before he even knew what was happening. I called my back up to come get him and headed back to my corner.
When I got back, I saw a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows and no plates pick up one of the girls, Daisy, and drive off. The hairs on my arm prickles and I got the feeling deep in my gut that I wouldn't see Daisy again. Shit. I had been hoping to be here when the sedan came. My captain didn't pay any attention to me when I told him we should be focusing on finding that sedan, it wasn't our case.
Case meaning the three girls that had been murdered in the district. I hadn't connected the murders to the sedan until the last murder. Talking to the other girls, I had gotten a description of the car though no one could identify the driver. If Daisy came back dead, screw my corner and the this-is-not-our-case shit, I was going to hunt this guy down myself and castrate him. HPD may not care about these girls, but I'd spent five years with them and knew there was more to them than large breasts. As it was, I hoped for the best that Daisy would return safely and that my gut feeling was wrong.
Around three my feet were numb and traffic on the street was non-existent, no sign of the sedan bringing back Daisy. I headed for the van and leaned in as the window was motored down. Benny Loki sat behind the wheel, his clothes wrinkled and his face long and tired.
"I'm calling it a night," Loki mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Nothing more will go down tonight."
"I think we should get some uniforms to patrol the block until sun-up," I kept my voice strong and serious, no messing around when they didn't take you seriously anyway.
Loki cocked an eyebrow, "Why?"
"Daisy left in a dark sedan a few hours ago, no plates, tinted windows," I explained. "All the girls that have been killed were last seen getting into a car of that description. If he comes back to dump her body, we should be here to catch him."
"Those murders aren't our case," Loki countered, speaking slow as if I'd fall behind. "The captain has explained this to you already and if you bring it up again, you're likely to get suspended. That's homicide, though if I had any say, I'd say those deaths were occupational hazards, not murder."
"Those murders," I said through clenched teeth, "Were the work of a seriously messed up psychopath that should be stopped. If for no other reason than keeping him from killing anyone you would say is more important."
Loki shook his head, "It's late; we've been out here for hours. I'm calling it a night, which means you should too."
With that, he started the car and drove off. Part of me wanted to go home, too, but I owed it to the girls to put an end to this. Another part of me felt guilty for not bring there for Daisy but I pushed that aside to focus on the case. I wasn't about to let another girl die while this guy went free.
I wondered the streets for the next few hours, peeking into alleys and watching for the sedan. I ventured to the edge of the red light district on the off chance that he'd left the area and had to came back to dump the body. It was nearly sunrise and a few cars were already on the road, heading to a nice cushiony desk job. I turned a corner to peek in an alley and there she was.
Her eyes were still open, her mouth opened slightly. Blood caked her hair and stained her clothes. Her arms were sprawled out and her left leg looked odd at an unnatural angle. I was by her side, crying her name over and over as I tried to find a pulse. She didn't deserve to die like this, she was a nice girl trying to get clean, find a respectable job, get off the streets.
I turned my pain over her death to anger. Anger at the psycho that was getting away with this. Anger at myself for not being the one he picked up. Anger that I hadn't been there to keep her safe and put the psycho behind bars. I was a cop after all, I was supposed to keep this from happening.
Suddenly, I became aware of sirens drawing close. I expected to see a patrol car pull up at the entrance of the alley but was surprised to see a shiny silver Camaro pull up. Two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn. I recognized them as 5-0, the governor's new task force and the guys responsible for taking Sang Min off the street therefore reducing the underage hooker population to nearly zero. A crowd was forming on the street, junkies and hoes, local business owners, all curious as to what was going on. Quickly forming a plan, I stood, shaky after being up all night roaming the streets in heels but I figured it would only add more authenticity to my plan. I slowly raised my hands as the shorter blonde cop shouted for me to step away from the body. My clothes were soaked in Daisy's blood and if I was on the other side, I'd think I was the one who murdered Daisy.
Which is exactly what I wanted them to think so they'd slap me in cuffs, toss me in the back of a squad car that had joined the party and cart me off to jail.