Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Airwolf characters. I just take them out to play every now and again.

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"Tristan?" she asked indignantly. She attempted to keep up her facade. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I was wondering the exact same thing, Caitlin," he said. "Caitlin O'Shannessy," he accentuated the use of her last name.

Caitlin's shock at the use of her real name was evident on her face. She was in trouble. Big trouble.

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Hawke craned his neck from his position under the bed in Maya Van Olen's bedroom. He was careful to not appear visible nor to make any noise that would give him away. Maya entered the room and tossed her handbag on the dresser. She was irritated.

"Damn idiot," she cursed to herself. She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Hawke pressed himself closer to the floor as the bed sunk in slightly with her weight. Maya reached down and unbuckled her strappy heels and kicked them off one at a time, flinging them across the room with a loud clunk. Reaching to her ears, she removed one earring, then another, slamming them down on the night stand. One bounced off the wooden nightstand and landed just under the bed.

Hawke caught his breath, hoping against hope she wouldn't drop to her knees and peek under the bed for the dropped earring. He cringed as he saw her hand suddenly appear at the edge of the carpet, feeling around wildly for the earring. "Dammit!" she griped. "Where are you?"

Hawke had to do something or her next action would be to drop to the floor. He reached out a hand and tentatively pushed the earring forward, placing it within reach of her grasping fingers. He snatched his hand back quickly as she found the earring, coming just inches of finding his hand as well. Damn octopus fingers, he thought silently.

Maya tossed the earring on the night stand and rose from her seat on the bed and walked over to the desk. Picking up the phone, she dialed a number from heart. Pausing momentarily, Hawke listened to her side of the conversation.

"... he's still downstairs. He's practically panting over that damn redhead." There was a pause while someone else spoke. "Look Johnny, I told you, we'll handle it. You just come through with the coke like you said you would. The exchange will happen like we planned. There is no setback. Same as last time, we'll be in the catering van."

She poured a drink from the mini-bar on the desk as she listened to "Johnny". She was becoming more irritated. "I am not telling you again, Johnny," her voice rising with each word. "You have nothing to worry about. There isn't a problem here. I don't know what my imbecile husband said to you, but we have everything under control. So meet us at the bridge off Hightower Rd. We're going to make you very rich, Johnny. You have my word." One more slight pause. "And my idiot husband's word too. If something does goes wrong, you have my permission to take it out on him."

Maya slammed down the phone and took a long drink from her glass. "Damn idiot needs to learn to not only keep pants zipped but keep his mouth shut too," she said in reference to her husband. She winced as the bitter liquid slid down her throat, then picked up the bottle and poured herself another drink. "I need a hot bath," she said to herself.

From his position under the bed, Hawke heard a the distinguished unzip of a zipper, and then saw Maya's expensive dress fall carelessly to the ground. He heard her heading away from the bedroom and to the bathroom. He released his breath when he heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing and then the sound of running water.

Not one to waste time, he rolled out from under the bed. Crossing the room to the front door, he looked through the peephole to make sure the hallway was clear. The last thing he needed was for some unsuspecting person to see him making his exit and assume he was fooling around with Maya. Or even worse, be met by Maya's husband. But he knew Caitlin was handling him, so he pushed that last thought away.

I hope you're not having too much fun babysitting Tristan, Hawke said to Caitlin, as if she could hear his thoughts. She's going to talk my ears off tonight about what a creep he is, he thought. And I'll have to remind her that she has been persistently reminding me lately she can handle things all on her own. He chuckled at the thought of Caitlin's patience wearing thin with the slimy therapy instructor, realizing at the same time he needed to get the hell out of here and back downstairs to her. He did trust her to take care of herself, but that didn't mean he trusted Tristan to not try to put the moves on her. Hell, maybe he'd return just in time to watch Caitlin drop him on his ass, he thought. He patted his tux pocket ensuring he still had what he came for. His ill-gotten goods were still secure.

"I'll be seeing you later Maya Van Olen," he said softly. "And hopefully there will be law officers and a jail cell involved." He turned the knob of the door and snuck out. Wiping the dust bunnies off his tux, he strode down the hallway back to the ballroom to find Caitlin.

TBC

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. I promise the next chapter will address what's happening with Tristan and Caitlin.