Pehea wau i ʻike ai i kou makuahine

Based on the characters and stories of Hawaii Five-0.

Hawaii Five-0 is owned by CBS and their respective creators.


Catherine stared at the postcard in her hand. Waikiki beach, in all of its glorious colors, was splashed across the front of the glossy cardstock. For what was probably the fiftieth time, she turned it over and read the back.

Wish you were here. The beaches are great.
The sunsets are even better. Don't wait too
long to visit. You don't want to miss out!
Let's talk soon.

Love,
Mom

There was nothing suspicious about the postcard except for, well, everything. The fact that it was a postcard from Hawaii left at her dead drop in Kiev, Ukraine put her on pins and needles. She had powered down all her phones and disconnected her laptop from the internet. Jude was going to be furious that she had gone dark. She was sure of that.

Huh. That caught her eye- the zip code. The address said Haleiwa, but the zip code was 'Āina Haina.

Could it really be that simple?

Catherine pulled out a notebook and began to make columns, counting the letters of the message forward and backwards until the grid was filled in. She chewed on the end of her pencil - a nasty habit she had picked up, but it had helped quell the nerves when she had been working in cryptology. She was old school like that. If a code could be solved with a pencil and paper, she much preferred that to a government created computer program that logged every keystroke and cursor click. Some messages needed to be analyzed before the NSA got their greedy little paws on them.

Making slash marks between the letters where she deemed appropriate, Catherine sat back and read through the decoded message.

Poshtova Square.

Thursday. Two hundred hours.
Ahmad and Kushnir make their deal.

Stay safe.

Shelburne.

It was Doris's handwriting. Catherine had seen it enough when Doris had stayed at Steve's house. Little grocery lists marked by their swooping S's and loopy Q's. And then there was the fact that she had signed it 'Shelburne'. That in itself was pretty damning. Catherine flipped through her notes, tracking dates and times that she had been able to meet up with Ahmad's wife. Thursday was blank. She racked her brain. Farah had said she was busy every day after Wednesday. That was odd considering the woman only spoke Pashto and wasn't too keen on making new friends.

Catherine didn't know how the hell Doris came through with such detailed intel when it looked like Farah was done leaving breadcrumbs of information, but Catherine was damn glad for whatever magic spy prowess she possessed. "Don't look the gift horse in the mouth." She breathed.

Quickly, she scanned her notes into the computer and loaded them onto the flashdrive. She grabbed her bag and slid her gun into the waistband of her jeans, fluffing her shirt to conceal it. Catherine powered up her company issued phone and shot off a text to Coen, demanding he pick up the flash drive at the dead drop. Expectation and hope flitted in her belly. The months she had been spending alone in the safehouse were almost over.


"Gotta say. I'm a little surprised you're here." Jude took a sip from the paper cup that was quickly losing heat. He strode beside Doris as they admired St. Sophia's Cathedral.

"You shouldn't be." Doris grinned, "You know I take care of my family. And I happened to come across some information that was more useful to her than to me."

He raised a thick eyebrow and chuckled, "You came to check on her." He observed, "You don't trust me to do my job?"

She shook her head and took the cup from him, stealing a sip before handing it back, "I know you can do your job and do it well." Her voice quieted, "But she was pregnant with my grandchild."

Jude surveyed the area and decided it was time to keep moving. Leading her away from the cathedral, he tossed the coffee cup in a trashcan and shoved his hands in his pockets to stave off the biting chill, "You know they're not together anymore, right?"

"I know."

"And you still came?"

Doris nodded, "I trust what I see with my eyes more than the words I hear with my ears. The way those two are together? They'd kill for one another. They'd die for one another."

Jude stopped in front of her, "Does he know?"

"He knows she's in. Brenner ran his mouth during the breach."

"Does he know about the pregnancy?" Jude clarified.

Doris shook her head, "I gave you my word that I wouldn't tell him."

"And did you?"

"No." Her lips turned into a grim line. She clasped her hands together and tucked them under her chin as they continued to walk, "And now isn't a good time to tell him in case she's thinking about doing it when your assignment here wraps."

Jude crossed his arms. He was ready to go to battle for his Princess. "And why not."

"Shot. Plane crash. Liver transplant. Take your pick."

His mouth opened and closed multiple times before words finally came out, "Was that all in the same day or separate incidents?"

"Same day." She sighed, "He's recovering… Thank God." For a fleeting moment, Doris McGarrett was human. Hurting. Feeling. Vulnerable. But as quickly as it came, she put her armor back on.

Jude slung his arm around her shoulders, "Tell your sources to keep me updated so I know how to proceed with her."

"Will do, Beckett." She studied him with a maternal judgement, "And get a haircut. You look like a sheepdog."

He tossed his golden mane out of his eyes and grinned, "Yes, ma'am."


"Where am I?" Steve groaned. The incessant beeping from the machine he was attached to was about to make him go on a violent rampage. Everything was probably hurting, but he couldn't feel anything. Numbness pressed against every inch of his body. Swallowing and licking the dryness from his lips, he carefully turned his head, "What happened?"

"You're awake." Danny rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned to face him.

"Where is she?" Steve tried to push himself up, setting off a cacophony of alarms on that blasted machine. Nurses flooded into the room and forced him to lay back down, saying words like, 'gunshot wound' and 'liver transplant' and 'blood transfusion'. "She was right here… Just… just don't let her leave yet. I-I wanna… I wanna talk to her…." He mumbled as he drifted back into the blackness of drug-induced sleep.


"Hey."

Steve grunted.

"Yo. Buddy. You awake?"

"I hate it when you call me 'buddy'." He grumbled.

Danny scooped out the last bite of his Jell-o and set the carton aside, "You're real cranky when you're drugged up. You know that, right? You know, most people take a nice little nap and wake up a little confused. Not you. You just complain and complain and complain."

Steve's eyes blinked open and immediately narrowed in at Danny, "You know, I was having a nice nap thanks to whatever magic drugs are in me, but apparently, they're no match for your nagging."

Danny eyed the door, "Since you're awake, you've probably got about forty-five seconds before they let the peanut gallery back in here. How, uh, how much do you remember?"

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, "We were…. We were in a plane, right? A, uh, a little Cessna."

"Yeah, you, uh, you remember anything else?"

The torment on his face was obvious as he tried to pull answers from his memory, "No… I was in the plane and then… I was on the beach with her." His eyes closed involuntarily and it took every ounce of strength he had to open them again. "Was she here?"

"Who? Lynn? You, uh, you told me that you two cooled things off."

"No." Steve groaned as he began to feel the pain from the transplant, "Catherine… Was she here?"

Danny could hear the hope in his tone. Best not to kick him when he's down, he decided, "No, it's just been Kono and Grace back here so far…"

"I saw her, Danny. She was there." He argued.

He ran his hand through the mussed blond pompadour and sighed, "Saw her where?"

"When we were in the plane. And, uh, and here, I guess… Probably the drugs." He sighed, "I thought I was dead." Steve began stoically, "I saw Freddie Hart. We were… we were back in Coronado. I was standing beside him on the beach… We were- we were in BUD/S." Steve paused when he got choked up. "And then I saw her." He continued softly, looking up at the sterile, tile ceiling when his eyes became misty, "Catherine, she, uh she was standing where our master chief would stand. I kept telling her I couldn't do it anymore… That I was done... That I was too tired. And then she told Freddie that he was finished… and that he could go." Steve blew out a steadying breath. "I watched him disappear." Tears brimmed in his eyes, "I kept begging and begging for him to come back, but he didn't. He was gone. Then I looked back at her. Man, she was… God, she was beautiful." He regretted admitting his affections for a moment before shrugging it off. "She stood there on that beach in all white… looking like an angel or somethin'." He chewed on his lip before continuing, "I asked if I could go with Freddie and she told me it wasn't time yet. That I had more to do." He glanced over at Danny and for once, saw him listening intently. "I asked again. Told her I was too tired to keep going…" He sighed, "I said I wanted to go with Freddie." Steve rested his head back on the sorry excuse for a pillow, "She said that Freddie had completed his mission and had gone home. Then she told me that mine wasn't over yet and to keep fighting. It was Hell Week and all I wanted was to sleep and she wouldn't let me. Catherine, she… She just told me to keep fighting."

Danny laid back in his hospital bed. Quietly, he said, "Sounds like she's your guardian angel. Pretty kick-ass one if you ask me." A grin crossed his smug face, "Hell, if my ex was my guardian angel, we woulda been fucked."

Without a hint of humor, Steve agreed. "Yeah, Rachel woulda dropped that plane in the ocean."


"Princess!" Jude yelled through the house, "Where you at?"

Catherine poked her head out of the bedroom, "Where's the fire?" She glanced out the window, "And you're here while it's daylight... Was there another breach?"

Before she could continue on her spiel, he swept her up in his bulging arms and spun her around, "Op wrapped. Your intel was good."

She kicked and squealed until he put her back on the ground, "Are you serious?! We're done?!"

"SEAL team rolled up Kushnir, Ahmad, the weapons, the buyers, the whole nine." He grinned, "Good work." Jude put her back on her feet, but didn't release her from his embrace. "You kicked ass on this one." His wide physique took up most of the space in the narrow hallway, leaving her nearly pressed between his chest and the unyielding wall.

Her eyes narrowed in at him, "You were with Doris, weren't you?"

Jude cocked his head, "Did she call you?"

"You smell like Chanel No. 5."

He ran a hand through the messy length of hair on top of his head, "Yeah, and she ragged on me for needing a haircut."

Catherine propped herself up on her tiptoes and ran her fingers through the sandy waves, "I can cut it for you." She volunteered.

"You can cut hair?"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the bathroom, "When you spend years on an aircraft carrier, you learn a lot of skills you never knew you'd need. I can't do anything fancy, but I can shape it up. Give you a trim."

Jude looked doubtful as they crammed into the closet-sized bathroom, "I can wait until we get stateside."

Catherine pursed her lips and tilted her head to get a better look at him, "You look like a sheepdog."

He laughed in exasperation, "Alright, let's get this over with. Can't be any worse than the buzz I got before boot camp."

She fished out a pair of clippers and shears from beneath the sink and dug around in her bag for a comb. Sure enough, within minutes, she had him shirtless, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with a towel draped around his shoulders. Catherine held the gleaming scissors in her hand as she stood in front of him and studied the state of the mop on his head.

Jude swallowed the tightness in his throat. She was standing in between his spread knees and running her fingers across his scalp. Her breasts were in his direct line of sight. The tight tank top and teeny shorts she wore left little to the imagination. "You sure you know what you're doing?" He choked out while looking down at the floor, desperately trying to be respectful.

Her hand worked itself to the back of his neck. She leaned over his shoulder to assess the state of the neckline. Jude felt his blood begin to simmer. Down boy, he told himself. She was just cutting his hair- not giving him a lap dance.

Catherine stepped around him and stood in the bathtub, her thighs pressing against his back. "Sit up straight." She ordered. Working the comb through his hair, she parted the mess and sectioned it off.

The buzz of the clippers sobered him, snapping him out of his trance-like state as they neared his ear. "Princess….."

A soft hand landed on his shoulder, "Trust me."

That was all he needed to hear. Closing his eyes, Jude was lulled into hypnosis by the alternating snip of the shears and the buzz of the clippers as she worked her way around his head. He swore her hands had to be tipped with a nerve agent. Every time he felt her fingers stroking as she turned his head this way and that, he grew more and more paralyzed. When she stepped back in between his legs to trim the front, he felt his mouth go as dry as the Afghan desert.

"You're really tense." She mumbled as she trapped the comb in between her teeth and snipped her way through the inches across his forehead. The corners of her mouth curved up in a smile, "Just relax." She soothed.

Her bare thigh brushed the inside of his leg and he held his breath. She had no idea the effect that she was having on his body. "Don't go all Edward Scissorhands on me, Princess." He sputtered. She had him so tied up in knots that he didn't know what was going to happen when they finally loosened.

Her melodic laugh caught him off guard and set off a flock of butterflies in his stomach. Catherine turned and deposited her tools into the sink. Facing him again, she stood within a breath of him as she inspected her handiwork. Her hands smoothed over the buzzed sides. Her thumbs rested on his temples while the rest of her fingers massaged the back of his neck. Jude closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. She could feel it, his breath dancing across the dipping neckline of her tank. She threaded her fingers through the longer waves she left on top, just how he liked to have it. "I think you're done."

Damn. "Thanks, Princess." His husky growl caught her off guard as he shucked the towel off of his shoulders. Jude's eyes remained closed, but his hands slid up her legs- starting at the back of her calves and resting just below the curve of her ass. There were no words as he leaned over and rested his head on her soft stomach.

Catherine nearly toppled over as his weight pushed against her, but his hands on the back of her thighs held her steady. She could see the ripples of muscle ebbing and flowing across his back like waves lapping along the shoreline. From day one, he had been her protector. The good guy. Superman.

But she was kryptonite and they both knew it.

Jude stood up. It was like watching Bruce Banner turn into The Hulk, except he wasn't angry. He was… intense. And he was watching her. As he stepped towards the mirror that hung over the sink, he moved closer to her. Catherine took two measly paces back until her body bit into the sink. He studied the haircut with an exacting eye. It wasn't half bad. Easily passable for a cut done by one of those walk-in joints. Maybe even a little better.

"Is it okay?" Her words were barely a whisper as she stood pressed between him and the vanity.

Hooded eyes met hers, his mouth zeroing in on her lips like a sniper. "Yeah."

Catherine felt her breath catch in her throat, "Yeah." She repeated. Her eyes trailed up the sinuous lines of his arms where flecks of stray hairs speckled his shoulders, "You might want to rinse off." She reached up and brushed the cut hairs from his skin.

Jude's hand captured her wrist in an aggressive motion. "Catherine, I need you to not touch me." His brain and his body disagreed with one another. As the words came out, he stepped closer, closing the space between them. Drawing her wrist to his mouth, he pressed his lips to the Sanskrit tattoo. "I need you to walk away right now."


Steve flipped the page of the journal he had squirrelled away for a quiet moment. Life with two tiny humans who demanded help and attention every second of the day didn't offer much in the way of 'quiet'. The waiting room at Tripler was a welcomed reprieve. As he patiently waited his turn to go back for his annual transplant check-up, he opened the journal to the dog eared page and began to read.


Journal #6

Kiev, Ukraine

This is probably my last entry from Kiev, and I feel like it's a good note to go out on. The op officially wrapped up today and we're heading back to the states in the morning for debrief.

I felt butterflies for the first time in a long time today. I've known Jude for over a year now. He's seen me through some of my most vulnerable and broken moments and he hasn't been scared off.

Do I want to fall in love again? I don't know. Truthfully, I don't know if I ever will. What I had with Steve? That was a once in a lifetime kind of love. An epic kind of love affair. Something for the ages.

But, today I felt butterflies. Maybe I'll be okay after all.


AUTHOR'S NOTE

THAT HAIRCUT SCENE. Drop your reactions, thoughts, and comments in the reviews!

XO,

-Mags-


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