Mari's Notes: I'd be remiss if I didn't say without Sammy's talent, all of my contributions to our co-writes would be loose scenes - she's masterful at knitting everything together into one seamless tale… thanks, partner!


Rock Your World (2/2)

Catherine and Carrie were ushered into a brightly lit room along with a dozen or so other women who had been handed VIP passes by Reaper or one of the band's other roadies. Against one wall was a banquet table which held several cheese platters, an array of crackers, a large bowl of fresh fruit, several unopened bags of snack food and a welcome cake from the Chamber of Commerce.

A far cry from the lavish setups the band commanded in their heyday.

There were two nondescript beige couches and a variety of mismatched chairs which had clearly been pulled from other areas of the venue just for this occasion. On the walls hung framed pictures of various events that had taken place over the years at the Waikiki Shell.

It was a perfectly serviceable green room but absolutely nothing about it screamed rock star.

Carrie caught Catherine's eye and gave a subtle head tilt towards the other women in the room. There were two women decked out head to toe in tour gear carrying a glitter covered sign proclaiming themselves to be the band's #1 fans. There were three women wearing handmade t-shirts identifying them as a grandmother, mom and daughter who all like Rock Your World.

Catherine and Carrie smiled and introduced themselves as the women squealed excitedly, happy to have the chance to meet their favorite band. As they all chatted happily, waiting for the band to arrive, the best friends couldn't help but notice the other women in the room. The ones who were hanging back. Keeping to themselves. Tight shorts, low cut shirts, freshly touched up makeup. They finger combed their hair and practiced their best lip pout.

"I think it's pretty clear why they agreed to come backstage," Carrie whispered to her best friend as they separated themselves slightly from the other women.

Catherine chuckled. "No kidding."

Before they could say anything else the door opened and the band burst into the room.


"... and this is Erik Young," Sixx, the security guard from earlier, pointed to the fourth member of the band.

"Ladies," he said and smiled broadly.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Young," Carrie said, with more of a giggly tone in her voice than she had expected. There was something about standing a few feet in front of her long ago crushes that brought out the teenage girl in her. For just a minute she pictured them in their prime. Tight abs and bad perms. Smiles that could charm anyone. "We used to listen to your music in our dorm room."

Erik Young smiled. When they first embarked on the reunion tour it stung to hear people talk about how many years they'd been fans. It made him feel old. After six months and hundreds of tour dates he had learned to push those feelings aside. The crowds still paid to see them. Even if it was more about nostalgia than anything else. One thing he'd learned early on was that trying to recapture youth could be a powerful motivator for some of the women who came backstage. He hoped that was the case here because he'd been watching the pretty brunette in the front row all night and he really hoped she might be open to getting to know him better.

"Always great to meet longtime fans." He smiled. "And you…" he clasped Catherine's hand in both of his and looked intently into her eyes. "must be from Jamaica."

She tilted her head, wondering what on earth would make him think that. Before she could ask he finished with, "'cause ja-makin' me crazy with how beautiful you are."

Catherine barked a laugh. "Thanks, and that's hys…" she began, but in a split second realized he wasn't joking.

He thought that line was a good one.

She cringed. That line wouldn't have worked on her 20 years ago let alone today. "Ah, thanks. Nice to meet you."

She knew if she looked at Carrie she wouldn't be able to hold back her laughter, so she turned her attention to the rest of the band, Alton Devlin, Dylan Tyler, and Cameron Tibbs.

After another round of introductions Dylan, who back in their heyday was the 'lady killer' of the group, took Carrie's hand and tugged her towards the food table and bar. "Come, come, what can I get you?" His eyes glinted with interest.

The two girls he'd thought from the stage were in their late twenties seemed a few years older under harsh fluorescent light but were definitely pretty and were longtime fans.

He'd surveyed all the women the second the band stepped into the backstage room. It's a skill he'd honed as a young man, when the band was selling out stadiums and their backstage meet and greets involved dozens of willing women every night.

Because of his role in the band, and his reputation as the 'cute one', he usually got first pick. And tonight he'd made his choice.

As he tried to cajole Carrie into doing a shot with him several of the other women in the room shot daggers at her with their eyes.

When Carrie turned down the idea of a shot he offered to make her a frozen drink. Whatever kind she wanted. The Oahu gig, with its three shows and multiple media appearances, would last the better part of ten days and he was hoping for some companionship throughout.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, the thrill of a one-night stand had dulled years ago. He wasn't a kid and after three divorces and four children, if a pretty lady would be his 'local girl' for the week, it was just… easier and less trouble. Hooking up at every show had lost its charm, but that didn't mean he was dead, just … vintage.

"No, thanks," Carrie said politely but firmly.

Across the room Catherine deftly stepped out of a potential hug and offered her hand to Alton Devlin. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Cameron Tibbs snorted a laugh. He and Alton had been best friends back in the day but in the intervening years they'd fallen out over a few bad business deals. He could plaster on a smile and pretend while on stage or being interviewed but he had to admit seeing a beautiful woman shoot down his bandmate felt fantastic. "Good move, Cathy."

She grinned. "Catherine. And thanks."

"So, are you on vacation?" Alton inquired as he ran a hand through his hair, ignoring his rival. The once wavy brown locks were cut short, militarily so, and up close she could tell there was powder or spray color to camouflage the thinning areas while under the stage lights.

She shook her head. "No, we're local. Carrie's stationed at Pearl and I live here full time." She was relieved that the band, unlike Reaper and his cronies, showed no signs of sleaze. They were more cheesy, aging rockers than creepy and while she kept an eye on the exits and would let no one between Carrie, herself and the doors, her sense of danger wasn't ignited.

"You're Navy?" Cameron asked Carrie and she nodded around the bite of cake she'd eaten.

"Mmmhmm." She swallowed. "Catherine, too. But she's reserves now."

"My son's at Pearl!" His expression instantly changed, and the aging celebrity stance morphed into that of a genuinely proud dad. "He's in explosive ordnance. Petty Officer Justin Tibbs."

Carrie smiled. "I know PO Tibbs. He was in one of my training seminars when he transferred in." She placed a hand on Cameron's shoulder. "He's a good kid. And a good sailor."

Cameron literally stood taller. "He takes after his mother," he joked, but his eyes glinted. "Thank you."

Once it was clear to the band that Catherine and Carrie were truly just there to meet them and say hello, and had no interest in anything else, they chatted for a few more minutes then said their goodbyes.

The several remaining women seemed happy to see their competition leave. As Carrie opened the door she looked back over her shoulder and saw one of the women practically drape herself over Erik and shook her head.

As they made their way down the hall, laughing softly about how their idea of what the band members would be like measured up to reality, Reaper reappeared.

"Done with the band already?" he asked with a somewhat surprised tone. These two ladies were clearly the cream of the crop of the women he had given passes to tonight. He fully expected to see them piling into the town car with the band later to head back to the hotel.

Catherine and Carrie stiffened. The man was more sleaze than danger but still they preferred to dispatch with his type as quickly as possible.

"Yep," Carrie replied, "We said hello now we're headed home."

"This early?" Reaper stepped into their path. "The night is still young. What do you say we go somewhere for a few drinks?"

"No," Catherine and Carrie said in unison. "We're leaving."

"How about I walk you to your car?" Reaper offered. He could see the door closing on his opportunity to get their numbers and he desperately wanted a chance to take a few more shots.

"No, thanks. If something happens we can protect ourselves," Carrie assured him. Then taking note of his gaunt appearance added, "I'm too tired to have to protect you too."


From the end of the hall the two door security officers watched the exchange. They couldn't hear what was being said but it was clear Reaper was being shut down.

They smiled at each other.

They were tired of the band hangers on getting all the consolation action. They'd seen it happen many times. Dejected women making their way out of the venue but being stopped by a roadie or tour manager before they made it to the door.

"We might have a chance with these two," the guard, Caleb Jenkins, leered.

The man standing next to him, Rex Booker, rolled his eyes. He and Caleb had been partners for almost a year now and for the most part they worked well together. At the end of almost every shift though, Caleb started talking about getting some action.

But talk was all it was.

They'd worked dozens of concerts and even over the last year and never once had Caleb managed to pick up a woman. Not once. In fact, Rex had never actually seen him make a real move.

All talk.

Personally, all Rex wanted to do at the end of a shift was finish up, clock out, and get home to his girlfriend.

As the women finished their discussion with Reaper, he looked at Caleb who was busy checking his breath and rolling up his uniform sleeves slightly to accentuate his muscles.

'Here we go,' he thought.

As the women got closer and Rex got a better look at them he grinned. "Do you know who that is?"

"No." Caleb licked his lips. "But I plan to find out."

Rex shook his head. "Man, do you ever read a newspaper?"

"Only the sports section." Caleb ran his hand through his hair and checked his reflection in the large windows to his left.

"Dude, trying reading the other parts in awhile." Rex shook his head. "That's Catherine Rollins."

"Am I supposed to know that name?" Caleb asked then waggled his eyebrows. "Though she should learn mine because she'll be screaming it later."

"I should just let you keep making a fool of yourself," Rex chuckled. "But I'm a better man than that. So I'll tell you … Catherine Rollins, the Governor Kekoa's chief of staff."

Caleb's eyes were glued to the approaching women. "What's that even mean?"

Rex shook his head. "It means she's - nevermind that. She's also Steve McGarrett's wife, man. Commander Steve McGarrett. The task force guy. Holy shit, you're lucky. Dude was a SEAL. If he was here and saw you looking at his wife that way you'd probably be dead already."

Three steps later the women reached them.

Rex nodded.

Caleb pushed the button to buzz open the locked door." "Have a nice night, ladies."

'Just like always,' Rex smiled to himself. 'Nothing but talk.'

As Catherine and Carrie made their way out into the beautiful night they were all smiles.

"You know, it occurs to me," Carrie said as they looked across the near empty parking lot and spotted the Corvette, "We met an awful lot of men tonight who were the opposite of oblivious. They went into the encounter expecting us to be interested."

"Years of having women throw themselves at their feet probably made them that way," Catherine supposed as she pulled her keys from her pocket.

"That would explain the band," Carrie snorted, "but what about the ridiculously nicknamed Sixx? And what about Reaper?"

Catherine linked her arm with Carrie's. "Sadly, there is nothing to explain Reaper and Sixx." Her phone buzzed with an incoming text.

'All quiet here. Angie is sound asleep. John and I are watching some show where some guy is eating wasps. It's weird. I hope you're having fun.'

She quickly replied 'On our way home' then smiled and added. 'Can't wait to see you. You rock my world.'

THE END


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