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's neck screamed in protest as she tried to maneuver her muscles to ease the tension. Six hours into their flight from Kiev to Langley, and she was ready to be in her own bed. That is, if she had one. Or at least a place to put one. Caroline had given her the name of a realtor and Catherine was scheduled to meet with him and tour some rental homes as soon as debrief was over. Her eyes wandered to where the brooding Adonis sat. Squished in a jumpseat beside Decker, Jude's eyes were closed, but she could tell he wasn't asleep. He was just avoiding her. Her mind went back to her last night in the safe house.


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."

All of the oxygen left her lungs as she felt him kiss her wrist tattoo. "Heal", it said. That was her plan. How, she wasn't quite sure. Her hormones told her that one passionate night with Jude would be enough to reset her priorities. Logic told her to walk away. "What happens if I don't?" She countered in a hushed murmur.

"Princess." He warned as he released her wrist and slid his hands down her wraith-like frame. He fisted a handful of her thin tank top, "I'm almost out of self-control." She could see it. The torment written across his face. How much restraint it was taking him to not lift her up onto that sink and use her for his own selfish pleasure until she was spent and exhausted. Catherine gently pushed his hands away from her shirt, instead, lacing her thin fingers into his. The conflict on his face turned to hurt as he took a step away from her. "I'll send Decker by in the morning to help you load up and get to the plane."

"Jude." Catherine called out as he trudged through the house. "Jude, stop." She shouted.

"It's fine."

"Obviously it's not." She ran her hand back through her long hair. "Jude, you said this wasn't going to happen. You told me you don't cross professional boundaries."

Jude stopped just shy of the door and turned to face her. All two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle and man focused on her. "Catherine, I'm only human." He turned again and opened the door, "See you on the plane."


Jude opened his eyes just a hair's width to peer over at Catherine. She was scowling and damn, it was adorable. Fuck it. He was being immature and he knew it. He pushed out of the seat and made eye contact with her. Tilting his head, he motioned for her to join him on the other side of the cargo plane. "Catherine, we need to talk about this."

She glanced over her shoulder to where the rest of the team was napping. Even Coen had shed his stuffy suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves for a little shut eye. "Really? You wanna have it out right here? Right now?"

"Yeah. I do. Because we're gonna be on the ground in a little bit for debrief and then you're gonna be sleeping in my house for the time being, so yeah- I need us to be good."

Catherine shrugged and tossed up her hands, "Alright. Let's have it out. Why didn't we have sex last night?"

Jude grabbed her arm and pulled her further down the plane. "Because you're not ready for that." He hissed.

She laughed in disbelief, "Um, I don't think that's your call to make, Beckett."

He stepped into her space, "Princess, in my book anything other than an enthusiastic 'yes' is a no. And 'no' means hell fucking no."

Catherine bit back a laugh, "Why are you such a good guy?"

"Consent is sexy, my dear." Jude crossed one large arm over the other and puffed out his chest. "Are we good?"

"Are we?"

He ran his hand over his freshly trimmed hair, "I don't think it's a secret that I'm into you, but I'd rather the rest of the team not know. And although you have a very promising future as a hair cutter-"

"Hairdresser." She corrected.

"Hairdresser." He chuckled, "I'll be going to a barber from now on. Some eighty year old man who smells like cigarette smoke and Old Spice." He reached around and trailed his hand up and down her spine, "Someone who I'm for sure not attracted to."

There were those damn butterflies again. Was it so wrong to want to move on from Steve?

Jude leaned down and politely kissed her cheek, "And when you're enthusiastically ready, we can revisit things." He nodded back towards the jumpseats, "Get some sleep. When we're done with debrief I'll go with you to look at those houses."

Her eyebrows furrowed as they walked back towards the rest of the group, "How'd you know about my realtor appointment?"

He pointed a thick finger at himself and grinned, "Spy."


Steve eased down into his desk chair. He wasn't supposed to be back in the office, but staring at the walls of his house was about to send him into a tailspin. It was late enough. No one else should be here. No one else would find out that he drove his truck against doctor's orders. Even then, Chin, Kono, or Grover walking in on him answering emails in his office was better than them finding him in his house smelling Catherine's shampoo like some sort of demented psychopath.

He groaned as he leaned down and spun the lock on the safe underneath his desk. 081978. He should probably change it. Everywhere he turned, Catherine was there. It wasn't just the dreams. It was her birthday as his safe combination. It was her shampoo still in the bathroom cabinet. It was the anchor necklace she thought she lost that he found under the bed. The box of peanut butter protein bars that he just couldn't bring himself to throw away even though he detested them. It was a million little things. Her fingerprints were all over his house. His office. His life. His heart.

Swinging the safe door open, he pulled out the photos. There was the one that used to sit on his desk- the two of them on their day trip to the Ka'au Crater Trail. There was the polaroid. The one that had helped them survive things neither of them should have made it out of. There was the photo Evelyn had sent him years ago- the two of them at the Army-Navy gala. She had made a copy of the original and sent it to him in a birthday card. It was the one the photographer had taken of the exact moment he had asked her to be his. The light and joy in her eyes was unmatched. Stars couldn't compare to her.

Damn it. Why hadn't he asked her to stay? He knew now. Him asking her to stay wouldn't have changed anything. He knew about her involvement with the CIA and it made his blood boil. Was it just a paycheck? Is that what it was? She was tired of working for Five-0, for him and she looked elsewhere? What would have possessed her to trade what they had for a paycheck from a company that ripped his mother away from her children and her husband. The company that ripped his life apart. He didn't understand. He couldn't fathom what was so worth walking away from their future.

He tossed the photos back in the safe and slammed the levered door shut. Grabbing his phone, he paused with a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe there'd be a message from her. Maybe she knew now that he was aware of her situation and would finally give him a fucking explanation. Two texts from Danny. A missed call from Chin. A million unread emails that he would put off for another day. Four new pictures and two videos of Joan from Mary. Nothing from Catherine.

One thing. That's all he needed. One damn text message. One damn phone call. An email. A smoke signal. Something. One little breadcrumb and he'd wait.

But it had been months since the security breach. Months since he learned the truth and still, he'd heard nothing. Dialing, he sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, "Lynn, hey, uh, it's me. It's Steve. I know we haven't talked in a while, but I was wondering if… if you'd wanna go out for breakfast or somethin' this week. I, um. I can't exactly go out for drinks right now… Long story, which I'd like to tell you over pancakes. So, just give me a call back."


Catherine spun the lock on her equipment and personal effects cage and turned quickly, nearly body slamming Caroline. "Someone's eager to get out of here. When is your appointment with the realtor?"

She checked her watch and grabbed her bag, "I was supposed to meet Jude in the parking lot five minutes ago. Figured I should probably squeeze in a quick shower here."

"Planes." They agreed in unison.

"Yeah." Catherine slung her bag on her shoulder, "Thanks for the recommendation, by the way."

Caroline waved her hand dismissively, "Don't mention it. Chris is an old friend. He works with a lot of agents. Finds neighborhoods where the other residents don't notice if you're gone nine months out of the year."

"So, he knows what we do?"

A sly smile crossed her face, "He's ex-CIA himself. Got into the real estate game after he retired. So, when you lie to his face and tell him you work for the State Department as an analyst, he'll laugh his head off and not ask any more questions."

Catherine laughed, "Analyst for the State Department. Good cover. I'll keep that in mind."

Caroline looked around as she stepped closer and lowered her voice, "What happened with you and Beckett?"

She shook her head, "We just had a disagreement the last night in Kiev. That's all."

"Would that disagreement have something to do with the fact that when he looks at you, he looks like he wants to devour you?"

Her face flushed into an unsightly shade of candy apple red. "What?! No! We just…. We had a misunderstanding."

Caroline snickered as she locked her cage and began to walk out with Catherine, "No judgment here. The rest of us have had a bet going on since you joined the house in Kabul."

"A bet?"

"Yeah." She shrugged, "For when he finally broke his little rule about not getting involved with agents. Day one, we all knew you were gonna be the one he finally fell for."

Catherine laughed and shook her head as they strolled down the hallway. "Sorry to disappoint, but his honor is intact."

Caroline's eyes darted down both sides of the hallway, "You hook up with him and I'll split the pot with you." She whispered as if they were sorority sisters, not at all like she was Catherine's superior who had a good ten years on her. Caroline's salt and pepper curls bounced as they picked up their pace. "You'll make at least three hundred dollars off it."

Her head snapped over to Caroline, "You're telling me that there's six HUNDRED dollars to whoever guesses the closest date for when me and Jude are going to allegedly hook up? Geez, how many agents are in on this?!" Catherine looked back ahead two seconds too late. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed as coffee poured down the front of her blouse.

"Oh shit." Sky blue eyes, wide as dinner plates, met hers as he stepped back and fumbled with the flimsy paper cup.

"I'm gonna be so late." Catherine groaned, looking at Caroline, "Will you text the realtor and tell him I'll be a few more minutes. I think I have a clean-ish shirt back in my cage." The man in front of her, dripping coffee cup in hand, had manifested a stack of napkins and was shoving them towards her. "Um, thanks."

He deposited the cup in a nearby trash can, "At least it was iced coffee. Coulda been worse."

Catherine looked up at him in utter shock. The gall of that man... Instead of giving him the public dressing down she so desired, she just shook her head and muttered, "This is not my fucking day", as she tried to soak up the coffee that was dripping from the chiffon blouse. She turned to hurry back to the locker room when a pair of leather Oxfords caught up with her.

"I'm sorry, I'm usually much more quick on my feet with the apology when I run into a beautiful woman and spill coffee all over her." His Hollywood smile and Arctic eyes were a stark contrast to his styled chocolate brown hair and neatly trimmed five 'o clock shadow. "Donovan Taylor."

"Catherine Rollins." She muttered, trying her best to be polite, but Jude and the realtor were waiting. Glancing over, she noted that his suit was tailored and expensive looking. Most likely well above her CIA field agent salary.

Donovan stepped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. She was going to shoot this man if he didn't get out of her way. "Do you work here? At Langley?" His eyes pierced into her with an interest that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Um, no." She muttered, "I'm an analyst for the State Department."

He laughed, "Yeah, okay. Analysts for the State Department suddenly have long-term lockers here?"

Catherine rolled her eyes, "You're making me late, Taylor."

An amused smile played across his face, "You addressed me by my last name. I'm guessing military." When she didn't respond, he guessed again, "Former military now contracting?"

"I don't have time for twenty questions."

"You're avoiding the question."

"You didn't ask a question. You made an accusation."

His amused smile turned into a blinding grin, "You're something else, Miss Rollins." He reached in the inside pocket of his- damn. Was that something in Italian on the label? Donovan refastened the button on his suit jacket and handed her a slick business card, "Give my office a call sometime. The extension on the back will put you directly through to me, so you don't have to go through my secretary."

Reluctantly, she snatched the card out of his hand, but not before calling him a pompous ass as she shoved the door to the locker room open, then slammed it back into his very chiseled face.


"What's that?" Jude asked as he opened the door of the truck and helped her step into the lifted cab.

Catherine looked down. She still had that jackass's card in her hand. "Some jerk in a suit spilled coffee all over me and then told me to call him. That's why I'm late."

Jude leaned in and gave her shoulder an exaggerated sniff, before breaking into a sing-song jingle about 'the best part of waking up'. Catherine rolled her eyes and shoved him away with a playful smile. He snatched the card out of her hand and read it aloud in his most posh voice, "Senator Donavan Taylor, Connecticut." He turned it over and noted the personal phone number on the back. "Definitely a jackass. I've met him. He's on the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. He's a suit that calls the shots without any idea of what it takes to get the job done."

"Non-operators." Catherine stated, remembering Steve's favorite term for opinionated sideline spectators.

He trained his eyes on the road as he began to navigate them towards Manassas. "You gonna call him?"

Catherine grinned and looked over at Jude, "Hell no."


"So how's it been going?" Mel asked as she tucked her feet underneath her as she sat down on her office couch. Taco and tequila night had been traded for a more formal appointment at Mel's office. "Steve said you talked to him a little more about Jude."

Catherine frowned, "I think I liked it better when you two didn't like each other."

"Spill, Rollins."

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Yeah, we talked about him a little bit when we went away the other weekend."

"And how did he take it?"

"Mostly well." Catherine began. "He's known about the miscarriage for a while. I mean, we don't ever talk about it, but I told him a little later that year when I saw him again. I just… I had never told him that Jude was there. I always felt a little guilty about not telling him right when it happened. I think it kind of hurt him a little bit… You know? Knowing that another man was there with me during it and not him."

Mel scribbled down a few lines on her legal pad before looking up again, "Why don't you just tell him everything? I mean, he knows everything about you and Billy. You know about him and Lynn and whoever else."

Catherine ran her hand back through her hair and groaned when she plucked out a silver strand. "I don't know. I guess things with Jude were always a little complicated and then everything happened there at the end and…." Her voice trailed off as she chewed on the tip of her thumb, "I wish I had the answers myself."

"Still no word from him?"

She shook her head, "Radio silence."


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Happy Weekend, Y'all! Leave your feedback in the reviews! What do you think? Is Jude going to have a little competition from a very handsome jerk? ALSO! This is your last heads up to read "Morocco" if you haven't already!

WEEKEND FUN FACTS:

1. I hate boats. Like, with a fiery passion. Canoes, fishing boats, ferries, cruise ships- it doesn't matter. I 100% identify with Catherine's need for Dramamine!

2. My (day job as a pastry chef) work has been published in international magazines and although I've never competed on television, I was in the middle of the casting process for a competition show before COVID shut everything down and suspended production on the show.

3. Reality TV is my guilty pleasure. I have A LOT of opinions on Dancing with the Stars and The Bachelor(ette).

4. I'm a sucker for romance novels. I'd rather read a great romance novel than watch a Rom-Com.

5. I don't drink coffee. I worked in bakeries and coffee shops for years, but never got the acquired taste.

Have a wonderful weekend, loves! Spread kindness and joy!

XO,

-Mags-


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