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Hawaii Five-0 fanfiction. No, I don't own these guys but I'd be happy to meet them.
The Fight in the Dog
"Danny, could you stop dissing my hometown. Please," Officer Kono Kalakaua begged.
She rubbed the back of her neck. She had such a headache, and Detective Danny Williams was going on and on about how he wished he was back in New Jersey.
Of course, it was really Steve McGarrett's fault. He loved to push Danny's buttons. He'd gotten the detective all wound up, then had been called to a meeting. Chin Ho Kelly was in his office talking to a source on the Big Island, which left Kono alone in the war room with the aggravated New Jersey native, who was now studying her as if she was a piece of evidence. The rookie officer waited to be bawled out by her superior.
"You look a little tense," Danny said mildly. "Here. Neck rubs are a Williams specialty." He walked behind her and touched her shoulders lightly, then dug his thumbs into the knots along her neck.
Kono had been given neck rubs that were caresses, but this was a friendly but impersonal massage that forced the tension out of her neck and shoulders. The relief spread up her neck. The throbbing in her head subsided.
She saw her cousin, still on the phone, regarding them from his office. He raised his eyebrows at her. She stuck her tongue out at him.
Now she felt guilty about getting mad.
"I'm sorry, Danny," she started to apologize.
"If I'm tap dancing on your last nerve, just tell me you'd rather have a soft shoe," he said in the same kindly tone he used for injured victims. Now she really felt guilty.
"It's not that I don't understand," Kono said. "If someone dragged me to New Jersey against my will, all that way from my friends and family, I'd be unhappy, too."
Though the hands on her neck, she felt him flinch away from the word "unhappy."
"That big, cold city full of millions of uncaring strangers. It gives me the shivers," she confessed.
"But that's not what the city is like," Danny protested. "It's made up of dozens of little neighborhoods where everyone knows everyone else."
"Danny! That's what Honolulu is like, too!" Kono said in exasperation. "Maybe, every big city is like that." She turned awkwardly to try to see his face. "You're a detective. Are you telling me you haven't done any exploring? You haven't found a restaurant you like or a little malsada shop?"
Danny shrugged. (She felt that, too.) "Some," he confessed. "But it's not so easy to start from scratch, especially with our peculiar hours."
Kono had a flash of inspiration. "Would you let me help?" she offered. "I'm going out with some friends tonight. There's a guy I know you might get along with. He used to live in Jersey, too."
"Well…"
"Come on, what have you got to lose?" Kono coaxed. "Seven o'clock?"
Danny released his grip on the rookie's neck. "Is that better?"
She rotated her neck and sighed with pleasure. "Much, even my headache's gone."
Chin finished his conversation and left his office. "Here, you, are you disrespecting my cousin?" he said with a stern voice and a twinkle in his eye.
"If you think I would abuse a rookie officer when I'm one of her training officers, then you're disrespecting me," Danny retorted. "And if you think I could make Kono do anything she didn't want to do, then you're disrespecting her. She'd clean my clock."
"She didn't look unwilling to me," Chin continued his teasing with a mock frown at Kono.
Danny had admired the bikini-clad surfer when they first met, but now she was a teammate.
"I think you're seeing things," Danny told Chin, then, making his decision, he added just to make his friend's eyes widen, "Even if she did ask me out tonight. Seven?" he asked Kono.
"Seven," she agreed. "And Danny …" He paused at the door. "… No tie. Casual."
He waved agreement and left.
"Don't give me that look," she warned her cousin.
"What look? I thought you were going out with the girls to talk about Naneki's baby shower. Think Danny'll be interested in that?"
"Maybe if we talk about the food …" she joked. Danny was something of a foodie. "No, seriously, we're going to the Sundog and Mickey's usually there on Friday, because his girlfriend has class that night."
"Mickey. That's not a bad idea, cuz," he said thoughtfully.
"When do I have bad ideas?" Kono scoffed.
Danny opened his door to Kono's knock at just a minute past 7 p.m. He posed, spinning like a model.
"Casual enough?"
"Perfect!" the girl answered with a grin.
Danny wore jeans and an open pinstriped New York Yankees jersey over a white T-shirt. It was more East Coast than Hawaiian, but it couldn't have been better if Kono had prompted him.
Danny clipped his holster to his belt, slipped his keys in his back pocket and put his wallet and badge in a pocket sewn on the inside of the jersey.
"I didn't know those came with pockets," Kono commented.
"This was a gift from my mother," Danny answered. "She read somewhere it's bad for your circulation to stuff too much in your pants pockets, so she put a pocket inside the jersey."
"Too bad we didn't have her at Christmas," Kono said.
Danny smiled, remembering trying to alter a Santa costume with a stapler.
Two young women, just Kono's age, occupied the back seat of her red Chevy Cruze. Kono introduced them. Monica was a statuesque blonde with styled hair, perfect makeup and a disapproving expression on her face. Danny guessed she was unhappy at having a strange man foisted on their girls' night out. Naneki was usually a petite brunette, but eight months of pregnancy had put a basketball at her waistline and made her heart-shaped face puffy. She welcomed Danny politely.
"We're planning a baby shower. Any ideas?" Monica drawled as Danny got in the front seat.
The detective raised his eyebrows at Kono, radiating "Is this what you got me into?" But he answered courteously.
"My only experience with baby showers was faithfully admiring every adorable layette my wife — now my ex-wife — brought home from her shower." He told a funny story about how he'd worked two days straight and all he wanted to do was sleep, but there were baby clothes and accessories all over the bed. "And Rachel had to exclaim over each one and tell me who gave it to her and put it away neatly, so it was an hour before I could crawl into that bed. And somehow my cop brain must have been on autopilot, because to this day I can still remember that the green polkadot jumpsuit came from Candy and the bib with the smiling bee on it came from Tammy and I never even met Candy or Tammy!"
"Oh good, he's here," Kono said as they entered the Sundog Bar and Grill.
Danny approved of the restaurant. It was a small place with a bar at one end, booths around the edges, tables in between and a miniscule dance floor off to the left beside a stage just big enough for a four-piece band. The stage and the dance floor were empty at the moment. People were clustered around the bar where TVs showed a variety of sports programs. Danny wondered whether they ever prerecorded games for viewing later. Even West Coast games were half over by 7 p.m. Honolulu time.
Kono left her girlfriends to settle themselves in a booth and took Danny to the bar where a young man was ordering a beer.
"Mickey, I want you to meet a friend of mine," she said.
The tall, slender Hawaiian turned and took in Danny's Yankee's jersey as the detective eyed the Yankee logo on Mickey's baseball cap.
"Brother!" the Hawaiian exclaimed.
Danny clasped his hand warmly. "At last, a civilized man in Hawaii."
"Mickey, this is Danny Williams. Danny, Mickey Kaina. Danny's from New Jersey, so I thought you'd have a lot in common. Mickey used to live in New Jersey, too."
"How long have you been in Hawaii, Danny?" Mickey asked.
"Coming up on a year," Danny answered.
Mickey gave Kono a reproachful look. She held up her hands in protest. "I haven't known him that long."
"We've only been working together for about six months," Danny excused his friend, while also obliquely warning Mickey he was a cop.
Mickey brushed that aside as obvious and got back to the important interrogation.
"Have you been to the new Yankee Stadium? How does it compare?" he asked eagerly.
Amused, Kono excused herself and returned to the baby shower discussion.
Having thoroughly dissected the new stadium, Danny asked the Hawaiian why he'd lived in New Jersey.
"My folks got divorced and my mom was transferred to New Jersey. How'd you get to Honolulu?"
"I got divorced," Danny said wryly. "My ex got remarried and moved to Hawaii with my daughter."
"And you followed them to be close to your girl? I honor you," the child of divorce said. "Not many fathers could or would uproot themselves from everything they know."
Danny was embarrassed and turned the conversation back to Mickey. "How do you know Kono?"
"We went to kindergarten together, then we reconnected in high school after I moved back to live with my father. I mean, I liked New Jersey, but Hawaii was home."
"People envy me living in Hawaii, but I miss my friends and family," Danny confessed. "And the food."
Mickey closed his eyes in blissful memory. "The food," he sighed. "And the Yankees. The two things I miss most. Look, I've got some guys coming over to watch the game Saturday. Wanna come?"
"I'd like that, if I don't have to work," Danny qualified. "So, what do you think of the new pitcher?"
Kono was glad to see Danny and Mickey getting along. She turned back to her girlfriends and someone slid into the booth beside her.
"Hello, ladies," a cheerful voice said.
"Lily!" The girls were always glad to see Lily, their childhood idol. She had been their babysitter, the older girl in the neighborhood who would make time to play with the younger kids.
The petite Hawaiian had a sleek cap of black hair, warm brown skin and even warmer brown eyes.
"Naneki, you are glowing. I've never seen anyone look so beautiful when she was eight months pregnant."
"You're such a liar, Lily," Naneki said, smiling. "But you may continue."
They chatted for a bit about babies, showers and the good old days.
"So, Kono, who's that guy you keep eying, the one at the bar with Mickey? New boyfriend?" Lily asked.
Monica snorted. "That's Danny Williams. He works with Kono."
"Not a boyfriend?" Lily was interested.
"Just a friend," Kono agreed.
"He's divorced, from New Jersey. Kono was worried about him being lonely."
"Monica," Naneki chided. "You make him sound pathetic. He was very nice in the car when all we were talking about was babies."
"That's true," Monica admitted. "He was nice enough, but he's too short for my taste," she said firmly. She suspected Kono intended to set her up with Danny.
"He doesn't look short to me. Anyway, tall guys give me a crick in the neck." Lily stood up, all 4-foot-10 of her, smoothed down her skintight dress and sauntered toward the bar.
"Danny won't know what hit him," Monica said.
"Do you think he'll care?" Naneki said with a giggle.
Lily liked the energy of Danny's movements as he debated with Mickey. She got tired of the laid back Hawaiian attitude. Lily's mother called her a changeling, a fiery Latin American senorita somehow transported to Hawaii. Lily thought she and Danny would strike sparks, which might light fireworks or start a brushfire, but certainly wouldn't be boring.
"I think the Red Sox will take it all this year," she said provocatively into the middle of the Yankee fans' discussion.
Danny spun around to argue, but blinked at the vision before him.
"Don't let Lily fool you, Danny," Mickey said. "She just says things to get my goat. She's not really a Red Sox fan. She's a Dodger fan."
The vision shrugged prettily. "They're my 'hometown' team."
Two thousand miles away, but still probably the closest major league team to Honolulu. Danny grinned at her.
"Lily Kiliona, this is Danny Williams."
"A friend of Kono's. I know," Lily said. She held out a hand and Danny gripped it gently. Mickey slid to the next stool to make room for Lily between him and Danny, who gave him a questioning look.
"She didn't come over for me, brah. I'm engaged to a friend of hers."
Lily wondered if she was coming on too strong. She deliberately relaxed her posture and toned down the wattage of her smile. A shutter seemed to fall over Danny's eyes. He released her hand as if it had burned him.
Oh help! Lily thought. She and Danny simultaneously turned to seek advice from Kono. She was already on her feet. She'd noticed Danny's attitude change from interested man to suspicious cop.
I must be developing cop instincts, Kono thought proudly.
She rested her hands on Lily's shoulders. "Danny, this is my friend Lily. I've known her all my life. She used to be my babysitter. She does like to play people, especially men, but she's not malicious.
"Lily, this is Detective Danny Williams. He's really good at reading people and telling whether they're lying to him," she warned. "Play nice."
"I was toning it down," Lily protested.
Danny apologized for being suspicious. "I had a friend in Jersey who let himself get picked up by a woman with ulterior motives. She and her handler tried blackmail and, well, it got pretty messy. He got reprimanded and was lucky to keep his job. Made me leery about picking up strange women in bars."
"You must have been pretty lonely in Hawaii with no one to make introductions," Lily said perceptively. "But we're good now?" Danny nodded. Lily thanked Kono and shooed her back to the others.
"So, what do you do?" Danny asked. She had to be someone who performed. "Actress, lawyer?"
"She's a school psychologist," Mickey offered.
"A child psychologist," Lily agreed. "I do manipulate people, Danny. But I only use my powers for good," she said piously.
"Fair enough. So, do you think the Dodgers can win the West this year? Even Torre couldn't take them farther, though they do still have a Yankee manager," Danny teased.
Lily settled down to talk baseball with the boys — until a jazz band began to play.
"So, are you going to ask me to dance, or am I being too forward?" she said directly.
"I like forward," Danny said. "But …" It seemed impolite to forsake his new friend, Mickey.
"Don't mind me," Mickey said promptly. "I can find someone else to harangue about the Yankees. Don't forget. My place. Game time. Saturday. Kono has my address."
The guys shook hands; then Lily towed Danny to the tiny dance floor.
The bartender — who was the bar owner — brought Mickey another beer. "Your new friend abandoned you."
"Only for the very best reason," Mickey said, admiring Lily's neat backside.
"You mean there's something better than the Yankees?" Paul Beagle asked in mock horror.
"Paul, there are spectator sports and participant sports," Mickey said with the air of imparting great wisdom. "It's always better to participate."
The men watched Lily press close to Danny.
"Amen," Paul sighed enviously.
"Tell me about yourself, Danny."
"Yes, doctor," he answered solemnly.
She thumped him lightly with her tiny fist.
Danny chuckled and gave her a brief bio — New Jersey, divorce, new job in Hawaii.
"Oh! You're Grace Williams' father!"
Danny blinked.
"I work at her school," Lily explained. "That essay about 'Why My Father is My Hero' brought tears to my eyes."
Grace's prize-winning essay said Danny was her hero not because he was a police officer, but because he had moved all the way to Hawaii to be near her.
Danny cleared his throat. He was proud of his daughter's essay, but, in this company, the topic seemed like bragging. "So, do we have a conflict of interest here?" he asked.
Lily considered. "I don't think so," she decided. "Grace isn't one of my special students. I've met her. I meet all the new students to help them settle in, especially if they come from out-of-state. But she didn't seem to need any extra help. She's quite well adjusted, considering."
Danny bristled. "Considering what?"
Lily laughed like a tinkling bell and tweaked his nose. "Considering her parents got divorced and she moved away to a different state."
Danny relaxed. He had to admit that would be hard on a lot of kids, but he — and Rachel — had done their best to reduce the impact on Grace. Heck, his daughter was better adjusted than he was, Danny had to admit.
"Lily's a nice name," Danny said, offering a compliment as an apology.
"I like it because it's short," Lily said. Danny raised his eyebrows in query. "It's short for Lilinoe. She's a goddess of misty rain."
"Lilinoe Kiliona, very musical."
"Very wet," Lily corrected. "Kili means 'rain,' too. We have a lot of words for rain. I'd rather be a flower. Don't get me wrong, Danny. I love my state and my culture, but I refuse to be shackled to it."
"I don't get you."
"I'm a full-blooded Hawaiian and there are some who call me a traitor because I haven't settled down with a full-blooded mate." Her eyes flashed. "I won't be treated like a broodmare." She sounded like she was revisiting an old argument. "My brothers have ensured the continuation of the species, two sweet wives and six great kids between them. Maybe I'll find a nice Hawaiian man to marry, but I won't be dictated to. I'll date who I like, and …" Her fierce expression transformed into an impish grin. "… I've always had a thing for blond hair and muscular shoulders." She caressed Danny's back.
"So a haole like me shouldn't even be touching you," Danny said.
"Some would say that. I say, 'kiss me.'"
"Yes, ma'am." Danny bent to kiss her — a novel feeling for the vertically challenged detective to kiss a girl shorter than he was.
Lily closed her eyes, tasting the beer on Danny's lips. And then Danny head-butted her.
The woman dropped to her tail, legs splayed awkwardly. She looked up at her date squirming high above her, his neck in the pawlike grip of a huge Hawaiian.
"Stick to your own, haole," the man ordered; then he threw Danny into the wall.
Spinning, unable to stop himself because there's just no traction in mid-air, Danny slammed into the wall full side on. Left shoulder, left hip and knee all blazed with pain, then went mercifully numb. His left temple smacked the wall with a thud. Dazed, Danny dropped to hands and knees.
Three voices called his name in concern, but he only had eyes for Lily. As she wavered to her feet, the big Hawaiian backhanded her and knocked her down again.
Danny saw red and charged.
"You whore, you should stick to your own kind, too," the man snarled, just before Danny hit him at his knees, in a move that would draw a clipping call in any football game.
The Hawaiian crashed forward, bouncing off the padded seat of one of the hastily evacuated booths.
Danny sprawled beside Lily. She reached out to aid him, but he could see two men helping the first attacker to his feet. He realized this was going to get messier before it was over.
"Get out! Run!" he told Lily. "Go!" he urged, as the two henchmen yanked him to his feet, ripping his jersey.
His wallet and badge dropped at Lily's feet. She scooped them up before they could get lost amid the feet of the milling crowd trying to escape the violence.
People screamed and shoved, trying to get away from the three Hawaiians, who began to shove Danny back and forth among them. Like the Harlem Globetrotters with a damned basketball, Danny thought. He put his arms up to protect his head and wondered if the basketball ever got dizzy.
Kono and Mickey tried to fight their way upstream to help Danny, but a scream from Naneki made them stop and made even Danny's attackers falter.
Getting out of her booth had put the pregnant woman in the path of the stampede. One panicked patron had knocked her down into the path of another. Unable to stop, the second man had kicked her square in the belly. He would have turned back to help, but the pressure of the crowd forced him out the door. Monica crouched beside her friend, shielding the fallen woman with her body.
Kono looked from them back to Danny. She needed to back up her partner, but her partner shook his head. Danny saw that the panicked crowd was a bigger danger than the bellicose Hawaiians.
He elbowed one attacker in the jaw and stamped on the instep of another, fighting himself free for a moment. "Get the girls to safety. Protect the civilians," he shouted. And to protect the rookie, he added firmly, "That's an order, Kono!"
Danny's first attacker started at hearing Kono's name. His eyes met hers and hers flashed with such a volcanic fury she seemed to be an incarnation of Pele.
Kono didn't like leaving Danny to the haole bashers, but — still glaring at the big Hawaiian — she reversed course, dragging Mickey with her. They collected the limping Lily on the way.
Mickey picked up the sobbing Naneki and carried her outside while Kono donned her official persona, waving her badge, barking instructions and molding the chaos into order before anyone else got hurt.
Danny planted a fist in his assailant's belly and twisted free, but before he could take another step, the other two grabbed him and held him still. Angered by the way he'd flinched from Kono's gaze, the first attacker roared defiance and slammed a fist the size of a sledgehammer into Danny's already bruised forehead.
Maybe it was the blow to the head or the way the room was spinning, but Danny felt oddly calm as the three Hawaiians shoved him around. They could have killed him easily, if two had grabbed him and let the third pound away; but they seemed more intent on bullying the haole than causing serious damage. Danny had been bullied before and was not impressed. He rode their unscientific blows as best he could, sneaked in an occasional jab to keep their attention and waited for the sound of sirens. He'd seen half a dozen of the calmer patrons dialing 9-1-1 on their cell phones.
In fact, it was only a minute after the room cleared before sirens approached. Two of the Hawaiians caught Danny by the back of his battered jersey and threw him backwards into the bar; then they escaped out the back door.
Danny used a broken barstool to pull himself into a seated position, his back against the bar. He was in sole possession of the restaurant — broken furniture, shattered glasses, spilled food and all. It was quiet except for the drip of liquid and the muted voices of sports announcers from the television sets.
The detective enjoyed a long moment of solitude, while the cops sorted through a dozen conflicting stories told at the top of two dozen lungs. (Danny could picture it. He'd been there before.)
Two patrol officers entered cautiously through the front door, weapons drawn.
"Gun!" one warned, seeing the holstered automatic still firmly clipped to Danny's belt.
"Easy, I'm a police officer. Williams. Five-0," Danny said, while keeping his hands in plain view, flat on the floor in front of him. (The non-threatening pose had the added benefit of helping the dizzy detective stay upright.)
"Let's see some ID — carefully," the officer ordered.
Danny reached for his pocket and found it torn open, his ID missing. He scanned the floor, but there was too much debris.
Danny sighed in resignation.
"Strike three!" announced a voice from one of the TVs.
"You can say that again," Danny muttered.
