Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal

Chapter 16

Here's the next. It's a little shorter but another follows within two days. Thank you all for your reviews, alerts and favorites. I never take your goodwill for granted and your comments continue to influence the direction of the story. Feel free to point out what you don't like. Until I publish my best-seller, I learn by doing.

Editing oversights are those of Imaginary Beta. She's never been very good at it – and she doesn't know how to cook.

Disclaimer: Ditching those plans to build husband and ninja cats that lovely spacious cage with the view of the ocean. They'll have to be content with their *currently* cagelesss view of someone tapping frantically away at a keyboard. They're just lucky I don't make money from this.

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Warnings

He threw his keys on the table near the door as the little cat greeted him by winding around his legs and meowing nonstop.

"Hey buddy. Long day huh?" he smiled downward as he bent to pick him up. With a welcome scratch behind his ears the little animal emitted a purr loud enough to be heard on Molokai. Tucking Cujo under his right arm Steve glanced automatically at his left wrist to check the time; frowning as he saw only bare skin. He'd have to see about getting another watch. With the activity of trying to find the killer currently running amok he'd not even had 'time' to replace the mysteriously missing item.

"Okay cat, I know no matter what time it is, it's time for you to eat. Let's go see what's in the cupboard." Cujo only purred louder as he was transported toward the kitchen, visions of little fishes dancing . . . err swimming, in his head but unknowingly the little feline's fond hope was soon to be dashed.

Steve set him back down on the floor and picked up the food dish to wash it out. Opening the cupboard that held neatly stacked cans of food alphabetized by flavor, he picked the one that was assigned for Friday. Of course, he'd gotten all kinds of flak from his amused partner when Danny had found out there was an assigned daily flavor but Steve figured it was a good way to keep Cujo from becoming bored with what essentially were kitty MREs.

Still, he strongly suspected it didn't really matter which of the at least twenty varieties of the disgusting mush he threw into the dish. After all, cats ate mice and lizards and bugs for chrissakes! It was probably just the pet food industry's rather successful marketing con to have owners thinking their cats and dogs needed variety. On the other hand, even Danny would get tired of malasadas if that was the only thing he had to eat . . . wouldn't he?

Picking the tin labeled 'mariner's choice', (which was probably another name for 'stuff that landed on the floor and we scooped it up and threw it in a can'), he was grateful that someone had the brilliant idea to make the containers with the same kind of pop tops as beer and soda cans. Ingenious! It certainly helped to make the process faster without having to search for a can opener. It made it less likely for one to be assaulted by the wolverine who'd sometimes become so impatient to be fed he'd try to take a chunk out of whoever wasn't moving fast enough to fill his dish.

"Hold on, I'm moving fast as I can." said Steve with a wrinkled frown as he plopped the disgusting mush into the dish and the feline meowed anxiously below and pawed at his ankle before beginning to lean forward to nip it.

"Hey! I told you no biting! It's not going to make me move any faster and it may even get you launched across the room if you don't knock it off!"

Cujo knew his human didn't like it when he bit him but he wanted food now! He also knew the tall man's threatening growl was an empty one. His human wouldn't hurt him.

He'd trained the tall man as well as the young female who smelled like the big salty water beyond the sand and the male who wore cloth that looked like flowers. They would pretty much feed him whenever he told them to but the loud man and the tall female still put up a fight though sometimes the loud man would give him treats even without being threatened but the tall female still won't do what he tells her – and she made him smell awful. She had to go.

Steve plunked the dish down onto the floor and picked up the water bowl to empty and rinse it before refilling. As he went to set it down next to the food dish he saw Cujo sniff disdainfully at his dinner and then make a pawing motion as if to bury it before sitting and looking up at him expectantly.

"What the hell? You've eaten that before and liked it fine. I just bought a whole friggin' case of it on sale!"

The cat only continued to stare up at him with an expectant look on his face, (if cats can look expectant).

Suspecting what the furry little piranha wanted instead of the stuff in his dish, McGarrett growled, "Oh no. You don't get kippers this time. That was just a one-time offer and I'm onto your game. You eat that or nothing. Danny's right, you are pretty picky for an alley cat. We've all spoiled you rotten."

Five-0's leader had cautioned the team not to give-in to Cujo's begging at the office. The little cat had acquired quite the sophisticated palate. He'd caught Chin giving him garlic shrimp once and Cujo refused to eat mere cat food for the next three days before giving in, his eyes nearly glassy from hunger, and going back to his regular diet. He couldn't be too annoyed with the Hawaiian detective. Their office guard/rodent control device knew he would get snacks if he put on his deceptive 'I'm just a poor, hungry, little kitten' act. Of course, if that failed, he would morph into a Tasmanian devil and his 'If you don't feed me and quickly, I'll rip your leg off' mode. What Steve wasn't aware of was that Danny had taken to bribing him with dried shrimp to keep from being attacked at random when the 'fanged fence rabbit' was in a pissy mood.

The cat now looked pleadingly up at him. Not yet ready to launch an offensive to get what he wanted.

"No I said. I'm not gonna cater to you tonight. I'm too tired. You know you're not going to get everything you ask for right?"

The cat declined to answer the question as he continued to wait expectantly for something better . . . like little fishes.

Now I'm expecting Cujo to understand and answer me! thought the tall man in disgust, Time to hit the sack for sure. "Eat it or don't. I'm going to bed." he announced and began to make his way toward the stairs.

Behind him there was a low growl.

"Threats aren't going to get you anywhere either. Don't even think about it!" said Steve way too tired and out of patience, his fingers still tender from the earlier battle with the espresso machine.

….

He'd already taken care of the cameras for tomorrow morning. Though Kiki wouldn't approve, he'd like to get this all taken care of tonight. She'd told him who the target was and given him the address. Maybe she'd be pleased he'd taken care of it so quickly.

He put the Prius into gear and silently glided away into the night. Pi'ikoi Street was only about twenty minutes away.

…..

"Dammit!" As the detective stood on his own postage stamp sized front porch; his search through his pockets for his house keys came up bare. It was late and dark and damp as a fine drizzle, the portent of the leading edge of the storm, turned the low-voltage lamps lining the walk from the complex's parking area to his apartment door into only softly glowing spots of light.

Pulling up his shirt collar and hunching his shoulders against the coolness on the back of his neck, he trotted back to the Camaro to search for the missing keys. He looked under the seats in case they'd somehow landed there but found nothing. At least I didn't run across one of SuperSEAL's stashes of grenades, he thought sourly, standing up to futilely pat his pockets for the missing keys one last time.

It was all Steve's fault anyway. If he hadn't insisted on driving all the time, Danny would have kept his house keys on the same ring with the keys to the Camaro. But after that one time Steve had taken off in the car with all the keys on one ring and though Danny had already arranged for a ride home from Kono he had to wait until Steve returned so he could get into his own damned apartment. Now, he knew most people would ask, 'Why don't you have two sets of car keys and just give one set to Steve?' . . . the answer to that question would be a resounding 'NO WAY!' If Steve had his own set of keys to Danny's car then he'd never see it again. It was bad enough Steve drove it like his own but at least he had to ask for the keys first, (or just stand and look at him expectantly like Cujo waiting for dried shrimp) before getting them.

In any case, right now he had no idea where they could be. As he recalled, the last time they were needed was yesterday when Gracie had used hers to let them in when they'd returned from dinner out. They weren't needed to lock the door behind him because it had the kind of latch that just needed a turn of a lever before pulling it shut.

Thankfully, Rachel had stopped by to pick up Grace last night because it would have been way too early to get her out of bed to drop her off before their early shift at the coffee shop. His on-again, off-again, relationship with his ex never interfered with what was best for their daughter. Anyway, he assumed the missing keys would turn up in the car or at work.

Realizing he'd have to break into his own apartment, (probably not a wise choice as Missus Ratliff, his elderly but fierce neighbor, had already peeked through her curtains to see who'd pulled into the parking lot at this late hour), or go sleep somewhere else he thought over his options. Whether it's his own place or not, the old bat would most certainly call HPD if she saw him trying to jimmy a window.

They already had several run-ins; the first being only a couple days after he'd moved-in when he and Steve had been observed in the parking area in an early-morning wrestling match over the keys when Danny had decided that he wasn't going to allow his insane partner to drive that day. She'd called the cops that time and several times since for offenses ranging from playing his television too loudly at night to letting Gracie play hopscotch on the walk. They had a turbulent history to say the least.

The old gal was well known at the station and it seemed to amuse them no end whenever they got a call about 'that little blonde man' whose name she very well knew. He just had the misfortune to be the current recipient of her overzealous scrutiny.

Frustrated at how his life seemed currently controlled by one over-amped adrenaline junkie, an ex-wife and an overly zealous apartment complex watch witch, he cursed upwardly at the rain laden night sky. How has my life become such a disaster? What could I have possibly done in a past life to deserve this? His only choice at this hour was to just go back to McGarrett's and crash on the sofa. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Cursing not so silently he got back into the car and as the Camaro's engine purred reassuringly to life, (at least something was going right), he sighed in tired resignation as he steered his way to Pi'ikoi Street.

….

With a bright bluish flash and a clap of thunder, the lights went out.

"Shit." exclaimed McGarrett as he stopped in mid trudge up to the second floor. It was pitch black in the house. There wasn't even the glow of a street lamp coming through the windows. Lightening must have taken out a transformer somewhere, thought the SEAL.

He bent down to pick up the little cat who'd squawked in alarm with the loud sound and the bright flash. Feeling the tense little body in his arms, he crooned soothingly, "It's okay buddy, just Mother Nature making sure we don't get too lazy. Let's just go hunker down until morning. I know even if you get to snooze all day at least I could use some sleep."

He continued his walk up the stairs, the tense little cat beginning to squirm in his arms.

"Going to be a mess out there in the morning. Let's just chill for now okay? Your favorite chew toy is gonna be here early in the morning bright-eyed and bushy tailed . . . well early at least." he amended. He assumed the warning growl he got in reply was only a complaint about the storm and general unhappiness at having only cat food for dinner.

He shouldn't have made that assumption.

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Haven't been very happy with this story and am feeling guilty for the even slower than usual updates. Will be taking a break from posting when this is done but will continue to read and review.

Even though they may not be deserved, reviews would be much appreciated.