Hawaii 5-0 fic: Strays in the House 2/3
Part two
The rescued kittens ruled the roost. Or, more accurately, their schedule ruled everything. Three of them meant that feeding was pretty much constant and making kittens poop was Danny’s favourite thing in the universe. George had to be stopped twenty times a day from loving the kittens to death. The doc had judged that they were two weeks old from slightly opened eyes, but they were pretty much behind on their predicted development and their lives revolved around eating, pooping and sleeping. Velvet, their border collie, was still withholding judgement.
So, between George being a step away from re-enacting the Loony Tunes ‘I will kiss him and love him and squeeze him’ Abominable Snowman sketch, Vel licking her lips in consideration, and Steve, their dedicated slave, jumping around like a mommy cat on a hot tin roof -- Danny just wanted ten minutes without the kittens crying.
They had a battery-operated heating pad so they could take the kittens to work in their box. Steve had co-opted an intern to be the kittens’ slave when they had to go out and do their day-to-day jobs.
“They are pretty cute,” Kono said. The kittens had started to explore the confines of their box on stumbling legs. “So are you keeping them?”
“No,” Danny said automatically, “I’m deathly allergic to cats.”
“Really.” Kono raised an eyebrow.
Danny coughed, piteously.
“You don’t seem allergic to cats, which I thought was weird. I figured that sentinels were always allergic?”
“Nah,” Danny admitted, because it was basically obvious that he wasn’t allergic. He couldn’t pretend to have a dripping nose, although he did know that a hot face cloth induced flush and a hint of a wheeze was really easy to manufacture. It was probably a good thing that his mom was also a sentinel. “Some sentinels are, like the rest of humanity. We always had cats and dogs around the house, mostly dogs.”
“So are you keeping them?” Kono asked again.
“Why? Are you interested?” Danny smiled winningly. Cats were evil. Pratchett had it right; if you shaved them everyone would know that they were evil. Their cute fur -- which he knew would shed -- wouldn’t win them any points with the Sentinel of Hawaii. He was wise.
“Really, Brah?” Kono snorted. “Steve won’t let me have one.”
“Hey, he thinks that he’s the Benevolent Dictator of Casa McGarrett but we both live there. I’m a dog person, not a cat person.”
Moku sat up in his pile of tissues and blinked at the brand new world that he was just figuring out how to see.
“Has he named them?” Kono cooed. “They are so cute.”
“Just Moku.” Danny pointed at the fluff. The other two were currently Whitey and Grey, hardly original. He was surprised that Moku wasn’t called Blackie. “You think that they’re cute now, but when they’re covered in sh--”
“Danny.” Steve came striding out of his office. “The governor’s aide called, we’re wanted.”
“What for?” Danny didn’t move a muscle. Despite the striding -- Steve always strode with intent -- there wasn’t a this is important vibe.
“His aide didn’t say. I figure we can go to Beeley’s for food on the way back.” What Steve didn’t say was that they were kind of on best behaviour, proving that they were the Sentinel and Guide of Hawaii and that shipping them off to the Mainland was not a good idea. ‘Kind of’ because Steve’s patience only lasted so long, and Danny was naturally sarcastic, but they were choosing their battles in the effort to win the War.
~*~
Denning had just been flexing his muscles. Parading the Sentinel of Hawaii to the masses to underscore that the Islands of Hawaii had a resident Sentinel and therefore the islands were a good place to live and work. Politics made Danny’s teeth ache. However, this was a good tick on Steve’s checkboard of reasons why Sentinel Central couldn’t forcibly remove them.
Still, Danny had a headache and wanted a vat of coffee and a malasada. He deserved it.
He strutted across the foyer towards the exit, planning on slamming through the double doors, on a direct line for the Hede’s Legendary Bakery opposite the government buildings.
Of course, his guide wasn’t dogging his heels.
Danny stopped. Steve was at the far end of the foyer staring absently at the vaulted ceiling.
“Yo, Babe? What’s the hold up? Food.”
“I was just thinking about something.”
“Yeah, what?”
“Food?” Steve non-answered. “Beeley’s?”
“Malasadas: Hede’s,” Danny countered.
“You’ve had malasadas once this week, Grace will know. Deep fried dough balls only once a week.”
Danny sulked.
~*~
Beeley’s Organic Juice and Foodbar was one of Steve’s favourite eating places. Good food, good people, good ambience. Beeley, through hard work, love, and care, created a space that soothed Steve and didn’t irritate Danny in the slightest.
Beeley was setting a top-heavy crate by the door. Steve forced himself not to help and take over, knowing that Beeley wouldn’t appreciate a hand.
“Hey, Commander.” Beeley grinned up at him through his groomed beard.
Steve bent over and offered Beeley a fist bump.
“What’s with the box?”
“Food bank will be picking it up in the next ten minutes.” Beeley pushed the box against the shop front, out of pedestrians’ way, with his foot.
“Cool,” Danny said.
They followed the proprietor into the airy café
“Sit in or takeout?” Beeley asked. The café was busy, but there were a couple of tables free under the bushy indoor Bamboo Palm.
Steve glanced at Danny. “Takeout,” he decided. They had kittens to check, and they could take food for Chin and Kono.
“I’ve got a cashew, vanilla pod, and cherry cheesecake for dessert.”
Steve snorted; Beeley knew his customers.
“Sounds like a plan.” Danny moseyed over to peruse the chiller cabinet on the far wall filled with prepared salads, sandwiches, mains, and juices.
“Get the quinoa sushi with tofu for Chin,” Steve directed as he scrutinised the blackboard above the serving counter.
Beeley wandered around the counter and onto his serving platform.
“Decisions, decisions,” Danny mocked. He had already picked out the sushi box for Chin and selected an organic chorizo, roasted peppers, and mozzarella wholemeal sub for himself.
“Raw Pad Thai with peanuts and tamarind dressing,” Steve decided. “Kono will have Butternut squash laksa with flat rice noodles.”
“Spicy,” Danny noted.
“Kono will find it mild.” Beeley laughed.
“I need one of your Americanos,” Danny declaimed.
“Double-shot of espresso? Silly question.” Beeley set to work.
The bell at the door chimed, and they both turned to check the new arrival. A young woman with the grass-green tabard was collecting up the crate. An empty one had been left in its place.
“Mahalo, Beeley,” she carolled, and continued on her way. She had pushed the door to alert Beeley of her pick up.
“I didn’t know that Honolulu had a food bank?” Danny sort-of questioned.
“Kind of necessary after the tsunami,” Beeley said absently, focused on preparing Danny’s coffee.
Steve looked unerringly in the direction of Sand Island and sucked on his bottom lip. He and Danny both sat on a number of governmental state wide meetings, representing both 5O and Sentinel Affairs (so to speak). In the raft of boring meetings, there was one series that did prove useful, the quarterly Public Service meetings. All services attended: Fire & Rescue; Police; Emergency Services; Medical Support; Social Services, and the Environmental Department -- they were noisy meetings. The aftermath of the tsunami had been the catalyst. Homelessness was one topic amongst many, but it felt more real today.
“We have to do something,” he said.
“Do what?” Danny mumbled around the slice of chorizo he had fished out of his lunch.
~*~
Danny munched on his sub. Steve sat on the floor, long legs crossed, under the big windows overlooking the Aliʻiōlani Hale’s statue of King Kamehameha the Great. He had corralled the kittens in the space between his legs. One-handed, he deftly ate his Pad Thai as he played with the kittens. On uncertain paws they stumbled around the vast valley made by Steve’s giraffe legs.
Steve and cats; who knew.
“So what are you thinking?” Danny asked from his comfortable seat on the couch.
“Thinking?” Steve asked, distracted by the grey trying to gnaw on his little finger. The white one was failing to scale the dangerous heights of his knee.
“Food bank? You want to volunteer some time?”
“In our copious spare time?” Steve sucked on his bottom lip.
“Might not be able to do it regular-like, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t help.”
“Oooo, sushi. Beeley’s sushi.” Chin scooped up his lunch on the couch cushion, and plopped down next to Danny.
“Where’s Kono? We put her noodle soup in the fridge.” Danny pointed in the direction of the kitchenette.
“She had to rush out,” Chin said vaguely. “Sudden call.”
“Yeah, why?” Steve sat up straighter, poised jump to his feet to render aid.
“Pharmacy,” Chin said.
“What? Is it a case--”
“Leave it, Babe.” Danny stretched out and nudged Steve with the tip of his toe.
“What?” Steve demanded, and then connected the dots. “Oh. Okay.”
“You were talking about the food bank?” Chin queried as he sat next to Danny.
“Captain America wants to cure the World’s ills.”
“Captain Hawaii, please.” Steve picked up Moku, bringing him up close so that they could nuzzle their noses together. I didn’t mean the Food Bank per se--”
“Per se,” Danny mocked.
“Children.” Chin sighed.
“The community on Sand Island, I get it, but it’s been months since the tsunami. That guy as well.”
“What guy?” Danny wiped his hands on a napkin.
“The guy who was trying to drown the babies.” Steve drew Whitey and Grey in close.
“Babies? You do realise that they’re kittens.”
“Yes, Daniel. He wasn’t well… wrapped.” Steve didn’t look at either Chin or Danny. “I don’t know what he was thinking. He was flickering -- the snakes.”
“Snakes,” Chin questioned softly.
“More like,” Steve pondered, “writhing.”
“What was writhing, Babe? The snakes?”
“No, his--” Steve worked his jaw, “--his aura.”
“This is the gentleman that you arrested at the docks?” Chin clarified unnecessarily. “Duke said that after they’d processed him they’d taken him to Queens Medical Centre. He was on the missing persons’ database since the tsunami. His family was understandably worried.”
“And he’s?” Danny rotated his finger by his temple, and dropped his hand at Chin’s flat look.
“Ill and needs help,” Chin said soberly.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Danny semi-apologised.
“Oh, Moku,” Steve griped. Clearly holding his hand to contain something, Steve gathered up the kittens with his other hand and stood.
“Joys of kitty-motherhood,” Danny said not moving an inch.
“Pity that you can’t make kitten diapers,” Chin noted, also not leaving the sofa.
Steve paused a second, digesting that comment, before continuing to trot off to his office. Danny figured that there would be some diaper experiments in their future. But washing was at the top of his agenda.
Chin had his iPhone out and was googling furiously. What did they do before the advent of Google, Danny wondered?
“Believe it or not, kitten diapers exist.” Chin raised an eyebrow. He flicked through webpages. “I figure, no, you don’t really want to put them on a healthy kitten, best that Steve trains them to use the litter box.”
Danny craned his head to look at the screen. Pictures of kittens wearing diapers. The internet was weird.
“UTIs and rashes,” Chin confirmed. “Babies and diaper rash is a miserable combination.”
“True.” Danny shared a comradely glance with Chin. George and night-time pull-ups was an ongoing battle and Little K was young enough to still need diapers.
“Yes, I know. It’s only water,” Steve crooned from the kitten-care corner in his office.
“Is this a guide thing?” Chin asked.
“Nah,” Danny judged, as Steve ministered to Moku, cleaning his butt with a damp tissue, “it’s a Steve thing.”
~*~
Danny got to drive, which was all kinds of awesome. However, the reason was because Steve had the kitten carrier on his lap, wrapped up in his arms, as if that would help if they got into a fender bender. The trick was not to get into any accidents. Hence the reason that Danny was driving.
“Kittens,” Steve opened with.
Danny eyed him sideways, because he was driving, and any road infractions would be blown out of all proportions.
“Yes, Steven. Very good, they are in fact kittens.”
“I mean. You know….”
That was a little uncharacteristically muted for Steve, who normally had the subtlety of the Deathstar blowing up Alderaan.
“That’s helpful, do you want to use your big boy words and tell me what you’re working your way up to telling me?”
“We need more kitten formula.”
Forget driving, Danny looked at him.
“Hey! Eyes on the road! We have babies on board.”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” Danny demanded. “We could have dropped by the university after the meeting with Denning. Dr. Gayle might not be there now!”
“She will be. I texted her.”
“And she wasn’t there earlier?” Danny asked astutely.
“No.” Steve’s bottom lip jutted out. “She was lecturing. She can check the kittens over now.”
“They’re perfectly fine.” Growing like weeds. Steve’s notebook neatly documented their increasing weight ten times a day and Danny could accurately tell the doctor the number of times they pooped and peed -- the little shit bags.
“I’d be happier if Dr. Gayle could look them over. They did almost drown,” Steve finished softly.
“Fine,” Danny groused, as he indicated and smoothly slid off the freeway.
~*~
Part three