There was something hypnotic about a Hawaiian sunset. Rich reds, oranges and pinks streaked across the sky fading into indigo; a kaleidoscope of colour that rippled across the ocean lapping at the beach. Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III breathed in the sea air, felt the sand squishing under his bare feet and wrapped his arms tightly around his fiancée, Marella Chappelier. In another forty-eight hours, they would finally be married and he couldn't wait.

Marella had wanted to be married in Maui and he had happily acquiesced. It would be a small affair with family and close friends only and would take place on the private beach at the estate owned by Marella's parents. Michael had rented a neighbouring estate for the duration of their stay; he liked the privacy it afforded them and which, given the requirements of their profession in the intelligence business, was a necessity. The place was a sprawling white mansion; five bedrooms, four bathrooms with a surprising number of reception rooms. It was more than enough to accommodate the couple, their best friends, Stringfellow and Caitlin Hawke, Michael's eleven year old daughter Angelina, and his parents. A butler, housekeeper, maid and cook were on hand for any request. It was luxurious but Michael determined that they had all deserved a little bit of luxury in the run-up to the wedding. He had wanted them all to relax and enjoy the week away from the Airwolf project.

It had been a busy time since the project had transferred from the Company to a new division under the Department of Defence. Michael was enjoying the new regime. He was in charge of the day to day operations at Red Star while Robert Delaney ran the political side in Washington. Michael allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction at the way things had turned out.

'You're thinking about work again.' Marella said wryly.

Michael didn't deny it; she knew him too well. 'We're doing well.'

'We are.' Marella agreed turning in his arms to look at him, hooking her arms around his neck as his hands tightened on her waist. 'Or rather Airwolf, Hawke, Caitlin and Rivers are doing well.'

'Three missions; three successes.' Michael confirmed. 'They make a good team.'

'It's just as well we have the wedding,' Marella murmured, her own mind drifting to the work they had supposedly left behind, 'it'll give Frank's team some time to fix Airwolf's turbos.'

'It's a shame we lost that Russian ship.' Michael sighed.

They were both silent as they thought back to the mission to retrieve the Russian version of Airwolf a month before. The mission itself had been a success but immediately afterwards the Russian ship had been destroyed in a rescue of Hawke's brother which had concluded with the death of Jason Locke. The team had moved on but they were all determined to bring the man responsible, Giovanni Cordelli, to justice. Given the history between the Hawke's and the Cordelli's, Michael figured he wouldn't be able to hold Hawke back for much longer.

'We should head back.' Marella said. 'They'll all be wondering where we are.' They had left their group, their own party and Marella's parents, sitting on the terrace enjoying after-dinner drinks while they had gone for a walk.

Michael raised an eyebrow. 'They know where we are.'

Marella simply looked at him steadily.

'But you're right.' He murmured. 'We should head back.' He tightened his hold on her when she would have stepped away. 'In a minute.' He lowered his head and kissed her deeply before he pulled away regretfully.

She smiled and took his hand as they walked back towards the house. They took the steps up to the terrace slowly. Michael had eschewed the use of his cane on the beach and although his bad knee was much better, it took some time for him to navigate the uneven steps.

Hawke looked up from the chess game he was currently waging against Michael's daughter and couldn't prevent his lips from curving at the sight of the spy. If only Michael's staff could see him now, Hawke mused, running his blue eyes over the rolled-up jeans and scruffy blue t-shirt that the other man was wearing. He looked like a Hawaiian beach-bum or a pirate, Hawke thought, as his eyes swept over Michael's ever present black eye-patch.

Michael's hand landed on Angelina's blonde head and a second later it was followed by his lips. 'Who's winning?' he asked taking in the almost equal number of black and white figurines on the board.

'Uncle String.' Angelica said a little huffily sitting back in her cane chair and folding her arms across the pink t-shirt she wore.

Her father's lips twitched. Hawke was the only one who was able to beat Angelina, who was something of a genius, every time they played. Michael knew every time the two played Angelina got a valuable lesson in strategy and in having a worthy opponent.

'You're not conceding?' Marella asked. Her dark eyes reviewed the board; Hawke would check-mate Angelina in five moves.

'I'm not giving up yet.' Angelina said.

Another lesson he'd have to thank Hawke for, Michael mused. He ruffled Angelina's hair. 'That's my girl.' He said fondly as his daughter's chin lifted in a stubborn line that reminded Marella of Michael.

Hawke's eyebrow quirked upwards. 'It's your move.' He reminded Angelina as Michael and Marella moved onto the table next to them where both sets of parents were playing cards.

Marella slipped her arms around her mother's neck and looked at the staggering number of chips in front of Michael's mother and her own with wide eyes. 'Wow.'

'The women are taking us men to the cleaners.' Marella's Dad, a Hawaiian native, winked at her.

'That's because we know when our husbands are bluffing, Tommy. Isn't that right, Elizabeth?' Simone Chappelier smiled at Michael's mother.

Elizabeth smiled back at her. 'Exactly, Simone.'

Michael's father sighed and threw down his latest hand. 'I'm out.' He grumbled. He gestured at the spare chairs. 'You kids want to join us?'

Marella and Michael exchanged a quick look. 'I think we'll pass.' Meralla murmured.

They had just sat down in the empty lounge chairs when they heard the sound of sandals on the terracotta. They all turned to look at Caitlin as she walked onto the terrace carrying a brightly coloured cocktail.

'Nicky OK?' Hawke asked. They had left their son with Hawke's brother Saint John and his girlfriend who had politely declined the invitation to the wedding along with Hawke's sister Sarah. They were all remaining in LA to run Santini Air.

'Nicky's fine.' Caitlin assured him. ' Saint John says they're having a ball looking after him.'

'He does realise it's the infamous…' Michael began.

'Infamous baby test.' Caitlin rolled her eyes. 'Women don't really do that, you know, Michael.'

Michael remained diplomatically silent. He knew his own experience with looking after Nicky hadn't been an intentional test of his parenting skills on Marella's part but it had certainly felt like it. 'Maybe I should call Red Star.' He mused.

His mother shot him a look. 'I'm sure they can manage without you for a week.'

'I'm out.' Tommy threw down his cards and sent his elegant wife a long-suffering look as she smiled serenely back at him. He crossed his arms over the bright Hawaiian shirt he wore. 'So, Hawke, we should talk about the bachelor's night tomorrow.'

Hawke's head snapped round to the table behind him. He met Tommy's dark, mischievous gaze warily. 'Michael didn't want a bachelor's night.'

'He's right.' Michael said nodding fervently. 'No bachelor's night.'

'Oh come on.' Tommy nudged Michael Senior. 'Tell them, Mike.'

'I have to agree with Tommy.' Mike smiled at his son's nervousness. 'A man can't get married without one last night of freedom. Ow.' He shot a look at his wife as he bent to rub his sore ankle where she had kicked him.

Michael and Hawke exchanged an anxious look.

'Well, it's just that…' Hawke sighed and waved his hand vaguely, 'we don't have any luck with bachelor nights.'

'But those were your bachelor nights.' Mike pointed out. 'Not Michael's.'

'Still,' Michael said firmly, 'I don't think we should tempt fate.'

'Neither do I.' Marella said with a warning look at her father.

'I don't think any of us want to tempt fate just before the wedding.' Elizabeth stared hard at her husband who avoided her gaze.

'I agree.' Simone said.

Caitlin nodded. 'Believe me, it's not real fun.'

'Now, we weren't thinking about anything wild,' Tommy said defensively, 'just a couple of drinks at the club. That's all.'

'Oh.' Marella relaxed a little. 'I guess that would be OK.'

Michael's good eye shot to her and she ducked her head at his slightly startled look of betrayal.

'True.' Simone nodded at Elizabeth. 'It's the most boring place on the planet. They'll be fine there.'

'Hey!' Tommy protested.

'You want them to go or not?' Simone replied smoothly.

'She's right.' Tommy grinned and planted his tongue firmly in his cheek. 'It's the most boring place in the world.'

Michael sighed and looked over at Hawke. Hawke shrugged; ultimately it was Michael's decision. The spy looked over at the hopeful expressions in both his father's and his soon-to-be father-in-law's faces. He sighed again. 'A couple of drinks.' He agreed.

'Excellent.' Tommy beamed. 'You won't regret it.'

Marella mouthed the word thank you at her fiancé and he reached over and linked their fingers.

'Just for the record,' Caitlin said waving her cocktail a little dangerously, 'I think this is bad idea.'