Cujo V

Chapter 10

Here FINALLY is the continuation of Cujo V. It's a long one. Thank you to those who kept faith that it would be continued.

This chapter has been proofed by Imaginary Beta because, strangely, SPNGran's life does not revolve around Five-0 . . . go figure. Before trotting away muttering about moving to a new neighborhood she'd given much valuable input, so I thank her.

Disclaimer: Will never make money from this. Will never stare into those beautiful hazel-blue eyes. Will never accept an evil orange baboon as president of my country, (apologies to actual baboons).

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Gary Busey's Smile

Bambi was not happy. She still had no idea how Steve managed to get the all-clear to go to work. He'd assured her that he was only going to sit behind a desk. Yeah sure. What made matters worse is that he'd left his partner behind. Detective Williams seemed at loose ends. One half of the dynamic duo without the other was like Starsky without Hutch, Mulder without Scully, Squirrel without Moose.

Now that the detective was more mobile he could have gone back to his own place but, with his daughter away for another couple of weeks, perhaps he felt lonely there. From overheard and heated phone conversations she gathered he wasn't pleased with custody arrangements made with his ex. To the nurse, it seems this Rachel woman has way too much control over the life of one to whom she's no longer married; manipulating him by using his daughter. No wonder the guy's neurotic.

At least Steve appears to have a solid relationship with Catherine. If the attractive lieutenant wasn't again on duty in the middle of the ocean somewhere, she'd be here taking care of her not-my-boyfriend. Whatever it's called, it surely won't be ending, (or changing), anytime soon. Those two are much too much alike to take any step toward marriage. Idiots.

Feeling somewhat guilty for so soundly scolding a grown man, (for leaving his crutch on the floor – again), she'd made a mental note to bake Danny some chocolate chip cookies. She didn't want to admit it but he guy had kind of grown on her. He's polite, smart as a whip, and seems genuinely concerned for his partner's welfare but, MY GOD can he be annoying! There've been times when she had no idea how Steve kept himself shooting the annoying little bastard. Like when he allows those cats so much leeway; the irritating man must amuse him in some sort of twisted way.

Takes all kinds, she mutters as she picks up stray socks, dishtowels, crumpled wads of paper, bottle caps, several grapes, and a necktie from the kitchen floor where the 'cats' had left them.

…...…

Danny sat on the lanai enjoying a late morning snack and reading the newspaper. His leg still hurt but it had healed enough that he could get around fairly well. He could go back to his place but very time he thought of returning to his small apartment, the idea of having only a kitten for company depressed him.

Maybe he shouldn't complain. Here he is, in a comfy lounge chair, sitting by the ocean on a sunny day while supplied with milk and cookies. Bambi was being nice to him for some unknown reason. He sipped from the frosty tumbler then set it down to pick up a home-baked treat while an orange kitten purred furiously in his lap. Who knew that such a loud noise could come from such a small creature?

Much as he'd hate to admit it, maybe Steve was right. He'd come to realize the sound could be incredibly soothing. Having cats around could actually be relaxing . . . unless one of them was that little blue shithead. There is no relaxing when The-Spawn-of-the-Spawn-of-Satan is lurking nearby. The bright blue pawprints decorating Casa McGarrett's wooden floors and even some of its walls are testament to kitten generated chaos.

At least the big shithead, (the one that isn't Steve), seemed to have calmed down a little. Perhaps Cujo had been mellowed by fatherhood. He'd lately seemed less inclined to use humans as chew toys though his son continued to be a lawless little philistine who'd steal your laundry and, if you weren't watching, even the food off your plate. Who knew the little bastard liked pizza?

His thoughts were suddenly intruded upon by a slurping noise. He turned to see a cat with its head stuck halfway down into his glass of milk.

"Hey, you little asshole!. Leave that alone!" he yelped.

Cujo ceased his furious lapping to plop his rear-end down on the wooden table. He sat gazing innocently back as though he hadn't been caught red-handed, err pawed, err tongued.

Milk dripped from the ends of his whiskers.

Humans really don't like to share their food, thought the milk thief. I'd let them have some of my food if they wanted it. There's big bags of it in the room with lots of little doors. I wouldn't mind.

After a brief staredown, (which he didn't win), Danny growled, "Nevermind. Now that you've gotten who knows what kind of disgusting cat germs in it, you may as well finish it off."

As if understanding he now had permission, the little grey cat resumed his activity. Danny could swear Cujo had smirked at him before sticking his head back into the tumbler; the cat's expression unsettlingly like Steve's when he thought he'd gotten away with something.

Sighing as he watched Five-0's rodent control officer polish off his milk, (this only the latest incident in a recent feline crime wave), the detective thought once again about his partner having far more patience with the little weasels than he could ever hope to. Why is it that the two most likely to kick ass are the biggest suckers? The SEAL is Five-0's official cat lady and Kalakaua is second-in-command in his feline army.

In any case, Steve isn't around to amuse him in his usual oblivious way and it had become friggin' frustrating dealing with, not one, but now two neat freaks. Bambi had earlier ripped him a new one for another infraction of her rules. Neither Steve nor the nurse understood that he had a 'system' for keeping his stuff in order.

Maybe I should just go home, he thought.

Cujo had finished 'his' milk and jumped off the table. Snorting, the detective resumed his perusal of the Honolulu Times but reading accounts of the country's descent into chaos, despotism, and Jerry Springer territory was just too depressing. Newspaper held before him while his mind wandered, he was actually startled when he heard Bambi join him at the table.

She'd set down a sugar bowl and two empty cups. Filling the mugs with coffee from the carafe she'd recently brought from home she placed the chromed container between them. In her opinion, making two cups at a time in that stupid French press just wasn't practical. She preferred to make a big pot in the morning then keep it warm for several hours in the insulated pot.

She'd learned that McGarrett is old-fashioned in surprising ways. For one who takes advantage of whatever modern crime fighting tools are available, his kitchen is totally out-dated. She's surprised there isn't a cow in the yard to provide cream so he can churn his own butter.

Speaking of butter, she'd found lick marks in it again. The last time one of the sneaky little bastards had helped themselves to breakfast, she'd thrown out nearly an entire cube of grass-fed butter. That crap is expensive! This time, tired of bitching at her charges to put it back where it belongs when they're done with it, she'd just scraped off the evidence and thrown it back back into the fridge. She'd come to realize that the cat/butter issue served to illustrate one of her favorite sayings: 'Don't try to teach a pig to sing because it wastes your time and it annoys the pig.' The pigs weren't going to ever remember to put the butter away to keep the A-hole cats from licking it. Anyway, she preferred margarine.

At least the worst of the little hooligans was no longer here. The blue one had been shipped back to the palace but it was in trade for two others. One of them is her own cat, Tina; sweet natured and easily coerced into behaving herself. The other is Lizzy, the furball adopted by Danny's little girl. The orange kitten is as laid-back as its mother, so, no problem. Maybe the butter would now be safe from sandpapery little tongues. She wouldn't count on it though because the devil himself was creeping around the house. How Steven put up with that evil animal she has no idea.

"So, tell me, Detective, how did your partner get the okay from his doctor to go back to work?" she asked reaching for the sugar bowl and a spoon.

"You got me." shrugged Danny which caused Lizzy, who'd moved to her favorite spot on the back of his neck, to squeak and shift before going back to sleep. "Maybe he threatened to shoot someone if he didn't get what he wanted."

"Wouldn't put it past him." agreed Bambi as she added another heaping teaspoon of sugar to her cup. She and her blonde charge had something in common other than fretting over the health of one Steven J. McGarrett. Each sugared their coffee until it was more like coffee-flavored syrup.

They also shared another thing in common – a dread of Attila. "At least he took that evil Smurf with him." said Danny.

"There's that." nodded Bambi as she took a sip of her syrup. "That little monster got on my last nerve when he 'decorated' this house."

"Yeah, Steve's gonna have to sand the floors." replied Danny. "Or, maybe he should just dip the little shithead in more bluing and have him run through the house. Blue paw prints could be a decorating theme."

"Couldn't be any worse than some of the crap I've seen in House Beautiful lately." shrugged the nurse.

"You got that right." agreed Danny. "I guess mid-century modern is the thing right now. It was ugly enough the first time around. I remember my parents having a whole house full of that crap. The most hideous was an orange naugahyde sofa that you wouldn't dare sit on on a hot day if you wanted your skin to come with you when you peeled yourself off it."

"I hear you." agreed the nurse. "And if I never see another starburst clock and sputnik chandelier again I'll be a happy woman."

The next half hour was spent in a pleasant discussion of decorating themes as cats wandered in and out of the kitchen, nary a one of them dragging laundry.

"Your friend sure has a lot of outdated crap around for someone who's such a neat freak." said Bambi, gesturing to the cluttered shelves in the kitchen. Danny knew that most of it had been John McGarrett's but Steve had never cleared out tchotchkes that had to be older than he is. He figured that maybe his friend found comfort in family belongings since, for so many years, he hadn't much contact with what was left of it.

"First thing I'd do is get rid of that tacky chicken." said Bambi, gesturing to an item that sat amid other dated clutter. It was probably Doris' prized contribution to the kitchen's decor, a gaudily painted ceramic rooster.

Steve would have been horrified.

….…..

He figured Danny would need a break. Not being home to act as buffer, there was the possibility that, at this very moment, the feisty detective and Nurse Bambi were rolling around on the floor, locked in mortal combat.

Hitting speed dial, he heard the familiar voice ask, "Missed me, huh?"

"Yeah, haven't had my bitch and whine quota filled today." he answered.

"Just because you somehow managed to con the doctor into letting you escape this prison, doesn't mean you can pick on your former cellmate."

"Well, I'm offering you a temporary parole, if you're up to it."

"You'll have to clear it with the warden." answered Danny in a lowered voice. Bambi is probably lurking nearby somewhere.

"Don't worry, I got you covered."

"So, where am I being paroled to?"

"The North Shore. I have to go interview your fanboy crush."

"Donna Darwood?!" exclaimed Danny, not even taking offense at the term 'fanboy'.

"Yup, mistress of the night and queen of cosmetic surgery."

"Hey, she's an icon!"

"An icon for the manufacturers of silicone implants maybe." snorted Steve.

Before Danny could spout a comeback in defense of his crush, Steve cut him off. "Just be ready at two and waiting out front. I'll come pick you up."

The detective was so excited about finally being sprung from 'lock-up' that he didn't even bitch about Steve driving or the fact that the coward wasn't going anywhere near Nurse Ratched.

…...…

There's no one to play with. He'd looked and looked for the other little cats but they are nowhere to be found. When they come back they will see me if I wait here, thought the blue kitten.

He sat waiting forlornly on top of the big shiny thing that sometimes had pictures on it. Sometimes the pictures moved and he'd give chase but he could never catch them. The human who wore flower cloth would yell at him then pick him up and put him on the ground. He was no fun.

No one at this place with shiny ground even runs when I chase them anymore, he thinks sadly. Every time he sneaks out to the other places where there might be humans to chase he gets brought back.

The place near with the big sand box near the big water is more fun than here, (except for falling into that wet stuff that got all over him). He wouldn't do that again.

The wet stuff was bad enough then he got stuffed into a box and went to a place with dogs! Then he woke up with no fur and it feels like he has sticks on his head! He was cold for a while but the cloth the humans put on him keeps him warm. He thinks it looks nice but, for some reason, the humans laugh when they look at him.

The big cat would never put up with that!, thinks the one who can't figure out what is so amusing to those who encounter a blue kitten wearing a sock, He would growl and then the humans would back away. I want to be just like the big cat!

At least The Female Who Smells Like Water doesn't laugh and, from what he can tell, likes the way he looks. He hears words like 'cute' and 'pretty' from her. He doesn't know what they mean but it must be something good; not like those other words he sometimes gets called like 'monster' and 'little asshole'. He doesn't know what those words mean either but he doesn't think the humans are using them to be nice. They're usually chasing him when they yell those at him.

After sitting for several more minutes atop the smart table, Attila gives up waiting for his siblings and jumps down to trot out of the main room to Kono's office.

Maybe I can get find someone to pet me, he thinks.

The cat in the Christmas sweater wandered in to plop down in the middle of her office floor and stare at her. "Hey, Attila, are you lonesome?" asked Kono.

The kitten meowed forlornly in answer.

"Poor popoki." cooed the Hawaiian woman who came from behind her desk to kneel beside him. She scratched under his chin because petting him on the head is like caressing a scrub brush.

The wax stiffened fur is probably just going to have to grow out on its own because, despite inheriting much of his father's temperament, he hadn't inherited Cujo's love for water. No one really wanted to risk death and dismemberment by giving the fractious animal a bath. So, for now, a blue kitten in a sock will remain a spiky-haired apparition haunting the halls of the palace.

Kono had debated with herself over Attila's latest ensemble. Christmas is still a couple months away but his other outfits/socks are in the laundry. The olive drab one is still too big for him so the candy cane patterned hosiery was the winner. She thinks he looks quite handsome.

"You know," she says to the one who stares solemnly up at her, "I'm afraid you've inherited that chaos gene from your father. If you hadn't caused such a mess, you'd still be with your sisters at the beach. I hear that Steve has to sand his floors now."

Attila chirps at her in answer. It's the polite thing to do when humans that you like are talking at you.

Caught up in her conversation with Five-0's junior terror, she isn't aware that someone is observing their interaction. "Kono," she hears from her doorway

Looking up, she sees her boss smiling at her. It's only Steve so she isn't even embarrassed at being caught talking to a cat. She knew he held entire conversations with them when he thought no one was around.

'I'm off to pick-up Danny so we can go interview Donna Darwood. I'm taking pity on him. He's got cabin fever being stuck at my house with Bambi and the cats."

"He wasn't the only one." she said. Then raising an eyebrow she asked, "Are you even supposed to be here?"

He frowned at the youngest member of his team before responding with a sigh."I thought I'd gotten away from the nagging.", then added, "Well-meaning as it is."

"You know that you still don't look all that great, right?"

"The doc said I could come in for a few hours as long as I don't overdo it." he defended.

"So, what did you threaten him with?" she asked.

"Nothing." he replied rather too innocently.

"Yeah, sure." she snorted.

"Anyway, we'll be at the Darwood place in Kawailoa if you need us."

"No offense, Boss," snorted Kono, "but it would have to be a pretty serious need if we have to call in two guys who should be in the hurt locker for at least another week."

Steve only rolled his eyes at her statement regarding his and his partner's current physical limitations; answering instead, "Danny for sure wouldn't want to be interrupted. He's had a crush on that woman since he was a kid."

"That's so cute." chuckled the Hawaiian woman. "Who knew our cranky Jersey detective could be such a fanboy."

Steve, directing his words to the kitten who sat purring loudly as Kono scratched under his chin, ordered, "You behave yourself! You pull any more stunts like the one you pulled at my place and the governor's gonna have us all looking for new jobs. You're not the only one who's going to be blue."

Attila only purred even louder now that he had the attention of the tall man as well.

Steve chuffed in annoyance as his attempt at intimidation had obviously failed. Kono cautioned him once again to take it easy. He thanked her for her concern but all these admonitions regarding his health were getting on his nerves. He should probably take what he could get though. The worry for his welfare certainly wasn't going to come from anyone else. With that thought, Doris' image came unbidden into his mind's eye. They hadn't spoken further since her one visit post what had been caught on video at HQ. Among the other issues yet to be settled like finding a home for a ferocious blue cat, dealing with a blackmailer and finding a killer, etc., his mother's sudden reappearance had gotten lost in the shuffle.

Oh, well. He knew that, even if he tried, he'd never get away from Doris. Conflicted emotions tumbled about before he shut them off and strode down the Palace's steps to go rescue his partner from the clutches of 'Nurse Ratched'. He'd Googled the name and found that she was a character from an old Nicholson movie. He wished Danny could give newer movie references.

…

It's a nice day for a drive. Nicer still if you've just gotten out of lockup. Danny was actually enjoying the Hawaiian weather. A fresh breeze streamed through the Silverado's passenger window as sunlight dappled the road. All is almost right with the world. What would make it totally right, (as far as the detective is concerned), is if they were in New Jersey. But one can't have everything, can one?

This is their second visit to the Darwood Estate. That first one, months ago, had been memorable.

Steve pulled up to the metal gates guarding access to the long, curved, driveway beyond. The bats and spiders worked into the filigreed design were as before but something new had been added. The actress, whose fame is mostly due to starring in movies and a TV show of the horror genre, had given her home a formal name. 'Nightshade Hall' had been skillfully welded in flowing metal script across the curve at the top of the gates.

Steve still thinks the entrance is tacky. Danny still thinks it's a work of art.

Also new is the voice emanating from the speaker set into the brick column beside them. "May I help you?" it asked politely. The voice is male, young, and didn't quite fit into the 'macho' category.

"Commander McGarrett and Detective Williams here to see Ms. Darwood." announced Steve.

"Do you have an appointment?" it asked.

"No appointment but she knows who we are." answered Five-0's commander.

"One moment." said the young man politely.

'I think you've got competition." said Steve turning to his passenger with a grin.

"Probably not." answered Danny. "It's gotta be a houseboy."

"Maybe she has a gentleman friend living with her." smirked his friend.

"Not unless the gentlemen friend has a gentlemen friend living here as well." snorted the detective.

"Oh." said Steve, having taken an extra beat before catching on. "So, I guess your position as Ms. Darwood's number one fanboy is still secure then?"

Before Danny could reply, the gates opened silently before them. The lack of sound as they swung inward added to the creepy vibe established by the metal creatures flying and crawling across them. At least it wasn't accompanied by a cheesy recording of ominous laughter, thought Five-0's leader. Even fanboy would have considered that over the top. He put the big truck into gear and followed the curved drive to the mansion with the white pillars; its design more reminiscent of the Antebellum South than Hawaii.

Even before the engine was shut off, Danny had unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door to clamber out. Despite his current mobility issue he actually beat Steve up the steps to the front door. In his wake, the tall man chuckled at his partner's eagerness.

They heard the click of a latch and the portal opened inward before they'd even used the bat shaped door-knocker. As she had nearly a year before, Ms. Darwood herself greeted them. This time, rather than a skin tight cheongsam with a peek-a-boo cutout, she wore a caftan of aqua colored silk; its neckline cut to reveal quite the view of her decolletage. She didn't want to disappoint her fan.

Amber eyes evaluated the two men before her. "My God.' she exclaimed, "This time you both look like crap."

Startled by her frank evaluation, Steve frowned while a goofy grin split Danny's face.

"It was only the Commander who looked as though he'd been through a meat grinder the last time I saw you two. Now, I see that Detective Williams has been added to the list." She clucked sympathetically as she gestured them into into the marbled foyer. Leading them across it through the double doors into the living room; the caftan, (a muumuu on any other woman), flowing gracefully as she walked. Directing them toward a cream colored sofa she said, "Take a load off, gentlemen."

"Nice to see you again, Ms. Darwood." smiled Danny as he settled onto the damask fabric. Steve, as he had at their first visit, seated himself on an armless chair across from his partner. They could hear the ocean beyond the French doors they knew opened onto a terrace overlooking Kaneohe Bay. The light let in by their large panes was mostly blocked by floor to ceiling black drapes billowing in the breeze from the ocean beyond.

"My," said Donna as she hurried to close the doors, "That's just distracting isn't it?"

Briefly standing with the sun behind her while she fiddled with the latch, it was obvious she wore nothing beneath the lounging dress. Its diaphanous fabric revealed her body as though she'd been x-rayed. Steve wondered if he was gonna have to have Danny hosed-down when they got back to the palace.

Knowing full-well the effect of her display on at least one of the men, she smiled. Her blood red lipstick contrasted with perfectly white teeth. She'd paid a lot of money for the cosmetic dental work.

Despite its perfection, her coy grin seemed to have no effect on the Commander . . . dammit. The guy is certainly a tough nut to crack. Hmm, she thought. Perhaps she was reading him wrong.

She crossed the room to the table beside the sofa and pressed a button on the small wooden box that sat atop it.

"Derek?" she said, "Would you please bring us some iced tea?"

The voice they'd earlier heard through the gate speaker replied, "Of course, Ms. Darwood. I just made a fresh pitcher. I'll bring it right in.'

In what seemed mere seconds, there came the tinkling sound of ice in glass and Derek himself appeared carrying a tray with a large pitcher and three tall glasses. The man is an Adonis; tall and muscular with wavy sun-streaked hair. She'd hired him for his looks, not for his skills as a houseboy or any other 'skills'. A girl sometimes needs her peace and quiet.

"I assume it's okay to drink tea? I know that you'd said at our last meeting that you didn't imbibe while on duty." smiled Donna as she watched for any subtle reaction from the Commander toward her extremely attractive servant.

Nothing, she thought rather disappointedly. Either the guy has a will of steel or he's straight as an arrow. I'm gonna have to up my game.

"So," she began, "I take it you've come here to ask me about Leticia?"

"Leticia?" asked Steve.

"You know. Leticia Denning, the Governor's wife."

….

The scary female is nowhere in sight and there's a really good smell coming from the big metal box with fire on top. It isn't little fishes but it smells like something good to eat and I'm still hungry.

Cujo sits on the kitchen floor, contemplating how things have changed since his family had grown and how he was going to have to remedy the food situation for himself. Bambi was reheating a tuna steak for her lunch and it's warming on a low flame while she goes out to the garage to check if that last load of laundry has completed it's washing cycle. She hadn't noticed the sleek grey cat stalking her meal.

The noisy little cats have changed everything. Before, I could always eat as much as I could hold. But now, the crunchy things are mostly gone when I get to my food dish. Begging from the scary female doesn't work like it does with all the other humans. She only yells at me and waves a cloth to chase me away. The scary female isn't afraid of me even a little bit. If I threaten to bite her if she doesn't give me food, she gets the big stick with the grass on the end of it and yells some more while she waves it at me then I have to run away. Hmmf.

Cujo jumps onto the counter next to the stove. Its tiles feel cold under his feet. Stalking across it he can see there's a round metal thing, (the pan he usually sleeps in when the humans aren't here), sitting on top of the stove. He'd only tried the one time to snatch food when it had been bubbling hot. It had been a huge mistake. He now knows better than to steal stuff that has fire under it.

He plops his butt down on the dish towel Bambi had left on the counter while he contemplates how to acquire a meal.

I can put my paw on the stick. I know the other part of the round thing will hurt me if I touch it. If I push the round thing onto the ground, the food in it will come out.

During previous snatch and runs, he'd learned the hard way that he has to wait for food to cool before he tries to carry it off. Knowing that humans often don't like to share, he'd have to carry off his prize to eat it in peace somewhere else.

Cautiously reaching a paw toward the hot pan, he slaps at its insulated handle. A harder tap gets the pan to wobble a bit. A few more and it's almost ready to slide off the burner. His tail whips about as he concentrates on pushing the pan closer to the edge.

This is harder than catching a lizard, he thinks as he takes another swipe at the pan of tuna.

While focusing on his task, what the fish bandit doesn't know is that his lashing appendage is pushing at the abandoned dish towel making it slide along the tile counter. With each whip of his tail, the cotton cloth is moved toward the stovetop.

If cats could smile, Cujo would be grinning like Gary Busey when the teetering frying pan finally crashes to the floor. With one last triumphant flick of his tail he jumps down from the counter to claim his prize.

While Cujo waits patiently for his catch to cool, the towel at the edge of the burner begins to smoke.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Your opinions would be much appreciated. You don't have to be nice. Please let me know if you think the continuation fits with the first part of the story. It was hard to find the rhythm after such a long break. Also, if I've forgotten something that needs to be addressed, please remind me. Mahalo.