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 padded to the front door, her glass of wine still in hand. All she wanted was a quiet night in after the team had gotten back from their assignment and apparently, that was too much to ask.
The doorbell kept ringing, and Catherine cursed whoever was on the other side. It couldn't have been Jude- he had a key and usually just let himself in. She was about to take a sledgehammer to the doorbell if the uninvited guest didn't stop pressing the damn thing.
She whipped the door open and immediately regretted it. On her front porch stood Decker and Caroline with a stack of pizzas, bottles of wine, and a case of beer. Her cheeks burned red as she looked down at her bare legs. Damn it. Why did she have to pick tonight of all nights to have a good cry, finish off that bottle of moscato that had been hiding in the back of her fridge, and fall asleep in Steve's boxer shorts and the SEAL hoodie.
Caroline gave her one hard look before deciding, "It's worse than I thought." She walked into Catherine's house without so much as a hello and started unpacking the spread in the kitchen.
Decker was close behind, leaving Catherine dumbfounded in the doorway. "YO, J-BECK!" He shouted, "Where you at?"
"He's not here!" Catherine exclaimed, slamming her wine glass down on the four seater kitchen table. "Now you two better explain why the hell you're invading my kitchen at eight o'clock at night."
The click and twist of the side door caught their attention. Without looking up from opening the case of beer, Decker yelled, "Beckett, you're late."
Jude let himself in the side door, a backpack in one hand, a vase of sunflowers in the other. "Had to make a stop."
"Will someone please tell me what the fuck you're all doing in my house?!"
He handed her the vase and gave her a playful peck on top of her head, "Those are for you, so I can do this with these." He picked up the wilted bouquet the Senator had sent her and promptly dropped them in the trash can. "Now we can get started."
"Started with WHAT?" She shrieked.
Jude took her empty glass and uncorked the wine that Caroline had brought. He returned to Catherine with the wine glass filled and a slice of pizza on a paper plate. " Be a good girl and go sit in there." He pointed to the living room.
Catherine scowled at him, grumbling the entire way to the couch.
Decker began to unload the bag that Jude had hauled in. Catherine watched curiously as he set up a laptop and a projector. He stood on top of an armchair and took down a painting from the otherwise bare wall. Decker decided that that was the best place for their intervention presentation… er… what had they agreed to call it? Oh, that's right. Team bonding.
"I didn't think The Amazing Race came back on until next month." She asked as she finished off the last bite of pizza. "What are we watching and why was I not notified before my house was raided?"
Jude and Caroline walked into the room and took their places around the room. Jude waited until Decker had finished setting up the laptop before clearing his throat and declaring, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to see to it that our dear Catherine does not fall into a pit of despair and dies a lonely, old cat lady."
Catherine sputtered on her wine, "Excuse me?"
"Dating, Rollins. We're talking about dating." Decker clarified.
She set her wine down on the coffee table and silently wished that it was tequila, "And why am I being ambushed by you three regarding my dating life?"
"Or lack thereof." Jude coughed dramatically, earning a piercing glare from Catherine.
Caroline grinned as she stood by the laptop and projector and logged into one of those swipe-happy dating sites, "We're really the most qualified to take care of you in this area. Why? Because we're your best friends and we work for the fucking CIA. So if anyone tries to hurt you, we'll murder them, dump the body, and then lead the fucking search party."
Jude chimed in, "And because Decker has a buddy at the NSA who slipped us some software that makes online dating a little less sketchy."
"Less sketchy as in?"
Decker grinned, "Find a guy you like, we run the program and have full access to financials, social media, emails, phone logs, text messages, all that shit. My buddy said you can even tap into their webcam or phone camera and see what they're doing in real time, but SOMEONE made us draw the line somewhere." He whipped his head towards Caroline.
"It's creepy." She reasoned. Dismissing the rabbit trail with a wave of her hand, Caroline reasoned with her, "Regardless, you get to know exactly who you're going on a date with. No being catfished. No picking a six-foot-five Adonis and having Bill from accounting show up. No criminals. No creeps."
"Just us invading the privacy of American citizens using NSA material that should be illegal anyways." Catherine argued.
Jude eased onto the couch beside her and slung his arm around her shoulders, "Just give it a shot, Princess. Who knows? You might actually find someone you like."
"Next slide." Caroline demanded. Decker did as she asked and all eyes turned to Catherine.
"Meh. He's a five." Catherine picked up her glass, took a long drink of wine, and gave the man's profile picture another assessment. "Now he's an eight." They had been at it for over an hour and she had to admit, being needlessly judgemental was fun. Especially with a crowd cheering her on.
Caroline rolled her eyes, "Someone make her switch to water before she starts thinking that Coen is an eligible option."
Just the thought of Andrew Coen and his weasley little face had them in a collective shudder. "I got it." Jude shoved away from the couch, returning a minute later with a glass of water.
"Buzzkill." She grumbled. "Next."
Jude watched as Decker swiped to the next profile. "Former Navy. Petty officer first class Jackson DeWitt. Forty-one years old. Six foot one. Brown hair and brown eyes. Likes running, boxing, and trying out new restaurants. Lives in Fairfax."
Catherine bit her lip, "He's cute…. But I would've outranked makes it weird, right?"
Caroline beamed, "Ooooh. You're blushing! Looks like we have another viable candidate! Decker! Run him through!" Giddy on a potential match and buzzed on red wine, Caroline could barely sit still.
The room quieted as Decker typed in a series of commands into the computer program. "Looks good so far. Good credit score. No massive debt…. Photo checks out - he actually looks like that." The assessment earned an alcohol induced cheer from Caroline.
"Run his social media and emails." Jude countered. No one was that perfect. He was sure of it.
Catherine watched as Decker focused back on the computer. His smile turned into a thin line, "Emails are good, but…." He swiped the new development onto the projector screen, "Marriage license. Looks like he's stepping out on his wife."
The corner of Jude's mouth quirked with a sly smile. He shouldn't be happy about it. The guy's an ass. Regardless, he was happy.
Catherine sighed and picked up her plate, "I'm gonna grab some more pizza." She excused herself and dipped into the kitchen to take a breath. She didn't want to admit it, but she had been having a good time. Bonding with Decker and Caroline was unexpected. The popcorn strewn all about the living room was going to be a bear to clean up, but throwing handfuls of it at the screen and booing when a profile turned out to be a farce was worth it. She slid another slice onto her plate and leaned against the counter. Peering into the living room, she watched as Caroline, Decker, and Jude filtered through potential matches on her behalf. She had actually found a handful that piqued her interest, and with Caroline's help, had reached out to a few. Why was she not more excited about her prospects?
Maybe it had to do something with the man sitting on her couch, criticizing some guy's beard. Jude looked like one of those sexy, brooding heroes on a supermarket paperback. If he were on the cover of a romance novel, Catherine would be more than tempted to buy it. Her buzz was wearing off, and with it, the desire to keep the game going.
"Hey, Princess." Jude wandered into the kitchen and dropped his beer into the trash can. "You okay?"
"Great." She plastered on a smile and picked up her pizza. "I was just grabbing another piece…."
When she took a step past him, he reached out and stopped her. His strong hand splaying across her stomach. "You'll tell me if this is too much for you." His voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable air of command.
"I'm having a good time."
"Princess…" Jude took her plate and set it back on the counter. "Just say the word and I'll kick them out."
Catherine's teeth sunk down into her lower lip, "Do you really think I should go out with these guys?"
His playfulness was gone, and in its place was the most consuming look he had ever given her, "Are you asking if I think you should go out with any of them," He pointed in the direction of the living room, "Or if I think they're worthy of you? Because those are two very different answers."
"Jude, I wasn't expecting all this tonight and I've had a lot of wine. I'm not prepared for you to go all fortune cookie on me."
He chuckled and hopped up on the kitchen counter, "I think you should go out with a couple of 'em. Try out the dating scene. See what it has to offer. Meet some interesting people. C'mon, I mean, you're almost forty and you haven't spread your wings." He gave her a wink and added, "You look like you've got some smolder in you."
She rolled her eyes, "Thank you for reminding me that I'm old. I'm pretty sure my smolder died a long time ago. It's mostly just dust and cobwebs at this point."
"Catherine, I didn't mean it like that." Jude sighed, "Look." He glanced over his shoulder at the living room. Decker and Caroline were distracted by violating the privacy of some poor sap on the dating site. He grabbed Catherine's wrist and pulled her down the hall and into her bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, he slipped his hands around her tiny waist, hauling her up against him. Jude was so tall, she had to look up. Without a word, he angled his head and brought his mouth down to hers.
The sensation of the kiss ruptured every coherent thought she had. Rising up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, Catherine pressed against him. Strong. Capable. That was Jude. His tongue trailed across the seam of her lips until she complied. Deep and demanding, the kiss was electrifying.
His hands worked their way up her ribs and across her back, spreading heat across her skin. The mercurial high of being kissed by him was addicting. The heat and passion was undeniable. Strong arms surrounding her, velvet lips on hers, urgency flowing between them both, making them hot, desperate.
It wasn't enough. Trusting him, Catherine jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He caught her with ease, his hands cupping her ass. Two sure steps and Jude had her pinned between his wall of muscle and the bedroom door.
Moonlight peered through the open curtains as he pulled away and trailed kisses from her shoulder up to her ear. Lingering, his mouth brushed against her lobe as he murmured, "Listen to me, Catherine. I want this. I want you." He growled, "But I don't wanna be your default." His fingers flexed into the curve of her ass as he pressed closer, "So when you're on your dates with all those guys who aren't worthy of you, just remember this moment. And I'll be waiting."
Her chest rose and fell heavily against his. He had stolen her ability to form a cogent sentence entirely. Jude had taken her breath away in all the best ways.
Taking advantage of her parted lips, he kissed her again. Jude shifted her into one strong arm and cradled the back of her neck with his hand, holding her head in place, "You've got smolder, Princess." He grinned against her mouth, "You're a damn smokeshow."
Journal #8
Manassas, VA
Holy shit. Jude kissed me. Why do I feel like a damn teenager writing that? Caroline and Decker just left. Jude stuck around to help me clean up and all I wanted was to haul that man to bed, but he kept his distance.
He said he doesn't want to be my default and I guess I respect that. He'd be the obvious choice for me to move on from Steve with and I don't want him to feel like he's just a rebound.
Truth is, I really care about him. A lot. But part of me wonders if I've talked myself into having feelings for him just to get over Steve.
Jude keeps saying I should try dating around a little bit. I've gotten a couple offers for coffee and dinner from that dating site. Maybe getting out of my comfort zone is a good idea.
"I can do this." Catherine whispered to herself. "It's just coffee." She sat in the Georgetown coffee shop where she and Billy had once slipped away to to discuss Sienna Greer.
The coffee shop was only about half full and Michael wasn't there yet. They had seen each other's photos on the dating site, but had still done the thing where they told each other what they'd be wearing to make finding one another a little less awkward.
Catherine noted the exits. Her back was to the wall and she had a clear vantage of all the doors and windows. She peered behind the cash register where a door led to what she assumed would be the kitchen- which meant potential weapons in the event of an emergency.
Fuck. Catherine mentally flogged herself. It was a damn date, not meeting with an asset in hostile territory. The bell over the door rang as a man walked in and made a beeline for the barista behind the counter. His jet black hair was coiffed to perfection. Streaks of silver near his temples made him look distinguished. He had said he would be coming straight from his office and his trim suit reflected that. Charcoal gray pants with a crisp white shirt tucked in gave him the corporate shark vibe. He wore a blazer, but had forgone a tie- or taken it off- and instead unfastened the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He accepted his coffee from the barista and tucked a few dollars in the tip jar.
Okay, points for tipping well. Off to a good start.
"Catherine?" He flashed a smile, "Michael Garrison." He leaned in and they shared a slightly awkward hug.
With a deep breath, she took her seat and sipped from the ceramic mug. It wasn't that she was terrible at dating, she just wasn't experienced in the art. Normal, she reminded herself. Just be normal. Ordinary. Don't be the woman who carried a concealed weapon underneath her pencil skirt whenever she went into her office at Langley and, in a pinch, could use her stilettos as backup if necessary.
Just be normal.
He settled into the seat across from her and she silently cursed that he was blocking her view of the emergency exit by the bathrooms. "It's really nice to meet you. I gotta say, I was kinda surprised to see that you look exactly like your profile." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "The last date I went on, she was the polar opposite of what she had claimed to be."
Oh great. A serial dater.
Seconds ticked by as Catherine tapped her fingers on her mug, "So the coffee here's good."
"It is…" He laughed nervously. "Come here often?"
Catherine shook her head, "Just once with a colleague."
Michael leaned back in his seat and rested his elbow on the back of his chair, "So what is it that you do?"
"I'm an analyst for the State Department." The lie was smooth. Easy.
"Interesting. How'd you come to work for the State Department? You're from Hawaii, right?"
Shit. She hadn't thought that far into her cover story. Well, a little truth in a lie makes it more plausible. "I, um, I lived in Hawaii after I got out of the Navy. My experience working in Naval Intelligence gave me a foot in the door with the State Department in… analytics." She took a calming sip from her mug and turned the attention off of herself, "What about you? What do you do?"
He smiled proudly, "I'm an investment representative at the bank down the block."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"Yeah, I do. It gives me a new challenge every day and I have a great view from my office."
Catherine gazed behind him as a group of patrons filtered out. No threat. "You know, bank robberies are a lot more common than people think. Yeah, I mean there are always security upgrades, but criminals adapt. You tighten up your armed security and they learn when shift change is. You get more cameras and they just figure out how to disable them. Get a better lock and the bad guys learn how to pick it."
Michael nodded nervously, "Yeah, I, uh… I guess you're right."
"And police response time is just absurd, especially here in the city. Even with a silent alarm, traffic makes it nearly impossible to get here before robbers have the chance to take control of the floor."
"Yep… The traffic can be bad…"
She took a casual sip of coffee, "Do you know that only like… twenty percent of bank robbers are ever caught?"
Michael's coffee cup sat untouched as he glanced at his watch, "No, I didn't know that."
"Now, the best thing to do when faced with armed assailants is to stay calm and keep your head down. Never make eye contact. No matter how well planned a bank job is, once they've gotten what they want- and they will- tensions are going to be through the roof. Eye contact makes you look like a threat. They'll be nervous. Paranoid. You don't want to paint a target on your back by drawing attention to yourself."
"Uh huh…."
Catherine's nerves took over and her mouth spoke of its own volition, "The exception to that is if it turns into a hostage situation. In that case, tell them you have a medical emergency and you need help immediately. The majority of the time, they won't want to have to deal with having a hostage that can't be easily moved or worse, turns their armed robbery into involuntary manslaughter. They won't want to deal with that, so most of the time they'll just let you go." She waved her hand dismissively, as if they were discussing the weather, "And you'll want to get yourself out of there as soon as possible. Once they take hostages, the likelihood of casualties increases drastically." She cleared her throat, "And that goes for any kind of armed crime. Not just bank robberies."
Michael stared at her, face pale. He stammered as a shaking hand lifted his coffee to his mouth. It was no surprise that he made idle conversation for a few minutes before pulling out his phone and faking a call. At least he was polite when he thanked her for meeting him before excusing himself to deal with a clearly made up office emergency.
Damn it.
Catherine finished her coffee alone, wallowing in self pity. That was the last date she had on her calendar. They had all been the same.
John, the marketing executive, had been appalled to learn that one of her favorite ways to relax was with her Sig Sauer at the gun range. He'd promptly excused himself from their lunch date muttering some bullshit about second amendment fanatics and saddled her with the check.
With Mark, the insurance broker, she at least didn't completely embarrass herself. He, on the other hand, admitted to only scheduling a date with her to rebound from his last relationship. She suffered through forty minutes of awkward small talk until he had an epiphany and realized that he was still in love with his ex and called her on the spot.
Timothy, the lobbyist, had immediately asked her how many kids she wanted and how she felt about homeschooling. Hard pass.
Scott had been a no-show altogether.
It was times like this that she realized that she was kidding herself if she thought she could ever be with someone "normal". Someone who doesn't have firearms hidden all over the house. Someone who doesn't wake up soaked in sweat from nightmares of war. Someone who doesn't read daily threat assessments and terror reports.
Maybe she was destined to be with the Steves and Billys and Judes of the world. Truth was, the thought of that didn't really bother her. So what if she had a type? She was tired of being alone. Tired of feeling like she couldn't trust anyone with the most intimate parts of her soul. Her team was great, but she desired something deeper than a coworking connection and platonic friendship. Otherwise, she was always going to be the odd date with the past and job she couldn't talk about.
Journal #8
Manassas, VA
I did it. I went on dates with normal guys. Jude, Caroline, and Decker all agreed that I wouldn't go out with former military men or anyone in government. Some bullshit about a comfort zone and me having a type.
So I did it. I went out on dates and they were all TERRIBLE. Not a single one went well. And it wasn't just the conversation. It was the men. No sparks. No spine tingles. Nothing. If it had been a cartoon, you could probably have heard crickets and watched a tumbleweed blow by.
Part of me just thinks Jude wanted to see me attempt to date. He thought it was hilarious. After every single one, he'd track me down at Langley or come over to my house and get the run-down. Every single time he'd be bent over at the waist, laughing his head off. Asshole.
But that kiss… Damn. I can't get it out of my head. How is it that he's the one playing hard to get now? It's almost unfair. If I had known he was that good of a kisser, my willpower would have been shot a long time ago.
I think part of my heart will always belong to Steve. Everything we went through- there's no erasing that. There's no forgetting that. But maybe, for now, we need some space. He and I had been together since we were practically kids. I was twenty-one and he was just a few years older. Maybe it's okay to figure out what we really want in life and in love. And maybe, like I told him, life will have a way of bringing us back together someday.
Catherine's black dress sparkled in the dim light as she made her way through the Capitol rotunda. Her champagne glass was empty and Caroline was nowhere in sight. She cursed under her breath and decided on a refill before she tracked down her team.
"Meet and Greets", as they called them, were glorified networking events that really just allowed members of congress to rub elbows with everyone from the CIA, FBI, and NSA to presidential cabinet members and government department heads. Catherine could think of several things she'd rather be doing than smiling at old men in suits. The list included a root canal sans novocain, standing in line at the DMV, or getting a pap smear. A fresh glass of champagne and some of those too small hors d'oeuvres would at least get her through the next half hour.
"Fancy meeting you here." The debonair voice matched the tuxedo it came from. Two glasses of champagne met her eyes, one extending towards her. "You never called."
Catherine laughed quietly as she accepted the champagne and took a polite sip, "A man like you seems to have plenty of resources at his disposal to track me down." Blush tinged her cheeks as his gaze met hers, "The flowers were lovely, Senator Taylor."
"Donovan, please." He smiled, "Senator Taylor sounds so… stuffy."
She deposited her empty champagne glass onto the tray of a passing waiter and took another sip from the one Donovan had given her, "Your timing is impeccable."
He offered her his arm and she graciously accepted. Wrapping her hand around his bicep, it was clear he wasn't a stranger around a gym. Smiling down at her as they began to walk, he said, "You know, I looked into you. Your resume is impressive."
"Oh really?"
Donovan continued as they strolled through the Capitol, away from the hustle and bustle of the event, "Top of your class at the Naval Academy, former Naval Intelligence officer, Five-0 Task Force, and now a field agent for the CIA." He looked down at her and studied her, "I don't think I've ever met a woman quite as accomplished or as beautiful as you, much less both."
Catherine laughed nervously, "I bet you say that to all your constituents."
"Well, you're not from Connecticut, so I don't have to worry about securing your vote." He grinned, "Truthfully, I'm glad we ran into each other."
"You mean when you spilled your coffee on me?"
"I meant tonight." His eyes roamed her body as he slid his hand to the small of her back, "You're wearing that dress like you're doing it a favor."
Catherine's pink cheeks turned into a deep red, "If I didn't know better, Senator Taylor, I'd think you were hitting on me."
"If it's not clear that I'm hitting on you, then I'm doing a piss poor job."
She nearly stumbled on the hem of her dress as they stopped in front of a door marked RESTRICTED. "I'm not like most girls, Senator."
Ignoring her warning, he pushed the door open, "Ever been inside the Senate chambers?"
"Can't say I have." She peeked her head in, curious, but cautious.
His coy smile turned into a Cheshire grin, "Come on. I'll show you around."
Donovan led her from the balcony to the floor, winding through rows and rows of desks. "This is me." He ran his hand over the rich wood. "When we're in session, anyways." He looked around the chambers in admiration, "History is made here. The Watergate hearings. Gettysburg hearings. Bills become law. Wars have been declared here."
Catherine sipped from her glass and looked around the room, contemplating how vastly different their lives were. From his perspective, going to war meant members of congress being called to a vote. For her, it meant pulling on combat boots and leaving home with the understanding that she may not come back. War meant strapping an M4A1 across her shoulders and a nine millimeter in her thigh strap. War meant kids dying needlessly in airstrikes. War was messy and brutal. But here it was all so… neat. Sterile. Distant.
Non-operators.
"What do you think?"
His question snapped her out of her internal judgments, "It's, um… It's nice."
Donovan smiled, "Look at us, getting along." He tempted his luck and leaned in closer, slipping his hand around her waist.
Catherine didn't back off. Instead, she leaned in, a jolt of sass coursing through her veins. Her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered, "Hands off, Big Bad Wolf. I'm not your Little Red Riding Hood." With those final words, she slipped out of his grasp and floated back up the stairs with a little extra swing in her hips.
Catherine tiptoed out of the nursery like a ninja and pulled the door closed, praying that Will wouldn't wake up. A hand clasped around her mouth as an arm yanked her against a strong body. Her feet could barely keep up as she was dragged into the bedroom and tossed on the bed with a bounce. "Steve!" She squealed.
Steve silenced her with a kiss, "Gotta stay quiet or you'll wake the kids."
She giggled as he peppered her collarbone with kisses, "What's gotten into you?"
"You complaining?"
"No, sir." She smiled as she pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside.
He chuckled as he untied her robe and pushed it off her shoulders, "It's that damn journal." He captured her lips in a panty melting kiss. "Apparently you forgot how much I aim to please in bed."
Her lips curled up in a seductive smile, "Maybe you should remind me."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Don't wanna jinx myself, but I think FanFiction is working again. I'm going to write this author's note with that assumption.
YOU GUYS! First off, if FanFiction has been down for you, you're not alone. Literally, the whole site went up in flames. SO, if you haven't read 89-92, make sure you go back and do that and leave me your feedback in the reviews!
Second, DID YOU SEE THAT KISS COMING?! Jude and Cath finally had their moment! The question is, where does it go now?! (Don't worry, McRollers- you know that Steve and Cath are the endgame.)
Third, BIG shoutout to user barlettfan24 who is not only one of my readers, but just started her own FF H50 story! Go check it out! Also, a big happy birthday to AgentD.6!
It's a brave thing to create stories. To draw people into the human experience. To be vulnerable and open yourself up to criticism and scrutiny. You guys are the coolest little community and I'm so thankful for each and every one of you!
Spread love and light!
XO,
-Mags-
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