P.I.T.A.

By Cokie and Sym64

Author's Note: (Cokie) On Sym64's blog Mostly Five-0… go check it out… this week, she gave a wonderful synopsis (complete with photos) of this week's episode. The working title of this story was "Never Again" and it was from a point she raised in the blog: "I wonder if Steve ever drives Catherine's Corvette". I started thinking about that statement and last night at 6 p.m. this started. I then sent it to Sym and told her to add to it, so we have each written about half of the story.

And yes, I do realize I have another chapter of 'Emo 'ole Make loa that is late. And I also know I haven't sent thank you notes in an eternity, so forgive me this little lapse in depravity. But… it was fun to write. I only wish I could write 5 pages of meaningful chapters in this length of time.

p.s. If you really hate it, blame Sym… it's her fault. In fact, it is always her fault. Just sayin'.

Author's Note: (Sym64) Cokie is right; you can blame me for not getting a new chapter of her great story she has in the works. I forced her to work on this. And please note that she totally exaggerates in saying I wrote half of it. Yeah right. But honestly, I'm totally honored that she let me write anything for it. Thank you for letting me be part of this. Oh, and thanks for the advertisement. Links are not allowed here, so if you want to check out the blog, you have to look for me on WordPress.

P.I.T.A. aka "Never Again"

Catherine Rollins was putting on an extra spritz of her favorite perfume when her doorbell rang. And after all the years she had known Steve McGarrett, she still got all quivery inside knowing she was going to see him again. With one last look in the mirror, she fluffed her hair and left the bedroom, looking down once again at the new, dark blue dress she was wearing.

Hope he likes it. She smiled, thinking that this is the first time she is actually wearing a new dress and will have the opportunity to go to dinner. Just the two of them. It was a running joke that they never managed to eat dinner, but it was mostly true. Their times together have always been so few and far between that eating never seemed to be on the agenda. But tonight, there was no chance that they wouldn't enjoy a meal. Because (a) she was ravenous; and (b) she wanted to show everyone on Oahu that Steve McGarrett was hers.

And to ensure that fact, Steve wasn't even getting a peck on his cute little cheek before she was seated in the restaurant with the napkin in her lap!

With one last deep breath, she opened the door just as he began knoc… banging on it.

"Hey, handsome," she said, smiling at him standing there with one hand still in the air, waiting to hit the elusive door again.

He stared. He gulped. Slowly his hand dropped back to his side as his eyes slipped lower, noticing the slender gold chain around her neck; the key charm resting almost in her cleavage. The necklace was a gift from him symbolizing that she held the "key to his heart" before he left for Korea in his search for Anton Hesse.

His eyes traveled lower, taking in the shortness of the skirt and the "long-ness" of her legs. He swallowed once again before raising his eyes to hers.

"Ms. Rollins, you're not so bad yourself."

"What?," she squeaked. "Did you just say 'not so bad'?"

His other hand swept from behind his back and he gave her three roses tucked into baby's breath. With a wicked smile, he added, "Well, yeah, I mean you clean up OK."

She raised the flowers to her nose and inhaled. "Dig that hole deeper, Sailor," she grinned at him.

Steve leaned in closer. "You're beautiful, Catherine," he whispered, reaching for her arm to pull her near. His lips came closer and she held up her hand flat over his mouth and nose.

"Uh unh," she said, shaking her head. "If you start that, I won't get dinner and I'm starved."

"Cath," he whined. "I just want one kiss."

"Nope. Nyet. Nein. Non. Nada. Let's go eat."

He walked inside when she reached for her wrap that was draped over a chair. She turned around and grabbed her small clutch, then checked the house before turning back to him. "I'm ready," she said, smiling at the noticeable pout on his face. She reached for his arm and laughed as they went out the door. "Poor baby. You look so sad."

"Then can I have a kiss?" he pleaded.

"Not on your life. I don't trust you or your kisses until after I have dinner." Just as the door shut behind them, a look of panic crossed her face. "Oh, no!" She opened her purse and checked, not finding her keys. "I just locked myself out of the house."

He held up her keys, dangling them between his fingers. "Well, you could stay at my place tonight," he offered.

"Is your house empty?"

"Well, uh, not really. She's there."

Catherine smiled sweetly and said, "Then I'll stay here. Where you stay is up to you." She reached for the keys to put them away when he held them out of her reach. "Let's take the Vette tonight," he suggested. "It's a nicer ride to an upscale restaurant. Besides…" he glanced down at her short skirt again. "I don't know if you can get into the truck."

"Sure, we can go in my car," she said, again holding out her hand for the keys. "You might be right about the truck."

"I'll drive," Steve told her, holding open the passenger door for her.

"Uh, no. You won't," she retorted.

"Come on, Cath, get in."

"No."

"Catherine!"

"Steven! Do you remember what happened the last time you drove my car?"

"That was an accident."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you didn't take out the shrubs on purpose."

"It was your fault we landed in the neighbor's shrubs. If you recall, your hand was on my… in my… lap."

"You didn't seem to mind at the time. Now, give me the keys. Remember, I've seen how you drive Danny's car.

"We are not going on a date with you driving me," he said.

"Fine," she replied, walking toward the truck. "Let's go. You can drive the tank."

"I wanna drive the Vette."

"And I want dinner, so let's go."

"Please? I'll make it worth your while later."

At that moment, her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She took one more look at the puppy dog eyes and relented. "All right, but you treat my car nice, you hear me, Steve McGarrett? No messing around."

"Got it," he replied with a huge grin, sweeping his hand down for her to sit. "Your carriage awaits."

He leaned down for a kiss after she was seated and she backed away from him. "Down, Boy. The answer is still 'no'."

"Oh, good grief."

~~~H50~~~

There's good news and there's… the other news.

The good news was that dinner was wonderful. And once she was seated, after the waiter had left with their orders, and her napkin was firmly clutched in her hand, she leaned over and kissed Steve on the cheek as a thank you for dinner.

He reciprocated with a very chaste peck on her lips before leaning back in his chair. After a superb meal, a couple glasses of wine each, and a very decadent dessert, they left the restaurant arm in arm. Before reaching the car, the kissing and canoodling began and it took several minutes for her to be seated in the passenger seat.

"You're OK to drive, aren't you?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied, grinning as he went around the car to the driver's side.

And now the other news…

Steve couldn't believe his 'luck'. He would swear that car was the devil incarnate. It was the second time that darn little blue thing had busted his great plans for a night of passion… "Ouw!" Steve glared at the technician who was just adjusting his position on the table so they could get x-rays of his pelvis and hip. It was bad enough that he had to lie on his back with that darn piece of lead over a part of his body he really didn't want exposed to any kind of radiation. But being touched was really starting to hurt.

There, he said it. His butt really hurt. A lot. Damn, that car had hit him pretty good; Steve thought as he wiggled into a more comfortable position… Very much to the annoyance of the technician. At least if his loud sigh was any indication.

"What?" Steve asked irritated.

"Sir, you have to lay still. Now we have to adjust the position again," Keanu told him.

I hate to tell you, buddy, but even Max looks more like Keanu than you do, Steve thought as he read the technician's nametag. This time Steve only groaned when Keanu pushed him into the right position. Or at least he tried to push him into position, he stopped when he looked up and saw Steve clenching his eyes shut and going pale.

"Commander, are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Steve pressed out through clenched teeth. This is not funny anymore. Argh. His whole backside had suddenly decided to seize up on him, and he tried to ride out the cramping of the muscles.

"We will be done in a minute; I promise," Keanu told Steve.

"Good." Steve tried to relax a little more, but that was easier said than done.

"Can you let go of the lead protection and put your arms to your sides?"

Up until now, Steve kept the lead thingy in place, worrying that it might fall off if he'd let go. "It will fall off."

"No, Sir, it won't. Don't worry, you're perfectly safe." Keanu smiled at his patient. He knew how uncomfortable his patient must be at the moment. He had seen the forming bruises, and knew how painful they would get with time.

"Oh-kay," Steve had his doubts about how fine he would be after this. He really should have known that this 'date' would end in disaster. Again. Just like last time he drove that little devil car. Back then their date had started off really well, and their way back had been even better. Cath had been teasing him the whole way from the restaurant, but when she opened his… "Ouch."

Keanu was back and trying to get Steve to roll onto his side. "Sorry, but the doctor wants your right hip from the side."

A few grunts later Steve was positioned to Keanu's satisfaction, and he left again for the last round of 'pictures'.

Steve had to admit lying on the side was a lot better than on his bruised a… butt. He could already hear the jokes. Damn.

"Sir, all done," Keanu came back in and helped Steve transfer to the gurney they insisted he travel on.

He had complained to everyone who had been willing to listen to him, and to all who hadn't, that he could very well walk to whatever tests they insisted on. But, no such luck of course. They took his pants, and didn't actually care much about what he wanted. At least he was allowed to keep his underwear, okay, not in the ER, but he put it back on before they rolled him around in this so-called hospital. Doesn't the word hospital stem from hospitality? Whatever. He hadn't felt much hospitality so far. He was poked, prodded and even stuck with a damn huge needle.

All his assuring the nurse that he just given himself a tetanus shot didn't help his case at all. He could see her questioning look as to why he decided to inoculate himself, but since he had no papers for that, he had to get another one. Just great. And what the heck was that for anyway? For the tiny little scrape on his right palm? "Mr. McGarrett, you never know what kind of dirt there is on a parking lot. Who knows what people were doing in just that spot before you scraped your skin and picked up all those nasty germs?" he could still hear the nurse telling him in her nasal voice.

"Here we are, Sir. Do you need help to get back on the bed?" the nurse who brought him back into the ER asked him.

"No, thank you, I'm fine." To prove his point he swung his legs around and sat up, which almost ended in the second disaster of the evening. He was not prepared for the head rush that assaulted him totally out of the blue.

His vision grayed out, and he fell forward with a sound that reminded one of a deflating balloon. It was his luck that Becky stood right in front of him and caught him before Steve face planted.

"Ugh…" Okay, I understand why my butt hurts like a bitch, but why the heck am I dizzy like never before? I did NOT hit my head. And I will NOT get a CT or any other crap like that. They can just forget that.

"Commander! Commander McGarrett! Ah, there you are again. You had us worried for a second."

Steve looked into the face of the doctor who treated him when he first came into the ER tonight. Where the heck did he come from? He was not here a second ago. Crap.

"It seems that you have a slight reaction to your tetanus shot. Low blood pressure happens from time to time. But nothing to worry about, you will feel fine in a few minutes. Just rest for a bit, and you should be back on your feet." The doctor smiled at Steve.

Is everyone a comedian tonight? Steve thought as he blinked up at the doctor, and it slowly dawned on him that he had passed out. Fainted is more like it. Crap. You said that. Shut up! Steve just closed his eyes and wished this whole episode to be over.

"Your x-rays will be here shortly; I will come back then and take another look at you." Steve felt the doc pat his arm and heard him leave.

Thankfully Catherine wasn't in here with him, so there was no need for anyone to ever know what had happened. The humiliation of fainting was for sure not a boost to Steve's mood. And neither was the mounting pain in his butt. Damn, that hurts. Steve had to wait another ten minutes for his doctor to come back with the good news of extensive bruising, but no broken bones.

"Could have told you that," Steve mumbled under his breath.

"Sorry, did you say something, Commander?"

"No. So, I'm good to go?"

"Almost."

Steve looked at the young doctor, who seemed to squirm under his gaze. "What is it now?"

"Well… we seem to have… ah… misplaced your pants. I'm really sorry, but I'm sure we will find them. Just give us a few minutes. I promise we will find them… I mean, they can't…" The doc kept babbling as he walked backwards to the door. "Any minute now… I'm sure."

Steve couldn't help himself; he leaned back and started laughing. This night was just getting better and better.

~~~H50~~~

"Hey, Danny, it's Catherine."

"Cath, to what do I owe this pleasure? Weren't you and that goof of yours going out tonight?"

"Yeah, we did. And, well, there was sort of an accident."

"Is Steve OK?" Suddenly, Danny's sixth sense kicked in.

"Oh, he will be," she said, trying not to grin. "I mean, I'm still waiting to hear if they are keeping him overnight."

"What the heck happened?"

"We were leaving the restaurant and he bent down to open the driver's door just as another car tried to pull in next to us. The driver didn't see Steve and clipped him, right in the tushie. He-ah- they did tests for a possible broken pelvis, but the Doc said there doesn't appear to be any other injuries. Just major bruising. Which includes his ego. He was pretty mad, but the driver of the other car insisted he get checked out."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Danny?"

"Sorry. I was just trying to imagine that scene," he replied. She could hear the smile in his voice. "So. It's official," Danny added.

"What's that?" she asked.

"He is officially a pain in the butt, huh?"

"Danny, that's not funny," Catherine said, laughing as she did so.

"Yeah, it is," he replied. "Want me to come pick you up?"

"No, I can drive. Hey, here he comes. Ooh, that's not a happy face. I'll call you back."

Steve gingerly walked to her. "Who was on the phone?"

"I called Danny."

Steve groaned. "You did what? Why? I can hear it now… all the jokes."

"Oh, Danny won't do that," she said, lying through her teeth. "What did the doctor say?"

"Nothing's broken but my pride," he said, holding onto her arm and hobbling toward the door. "Let's get out of here." When they reached the car, he turned to look at her and vowed, "Never will I ask to drive your car again."

"Never? You know, it wasn't the car's fault."

"Never. I knew there was a reason I bought a truck. People can see you. Now, how the hell am I going to sit down in this thing?" he asked when they reached the Corvette.

Catherine's ringing phone stopped her answer.

"Hello."

"Cath, it's Danny. Did you say he was driving your car?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm on my way to his house to pick up the truck. No way will he be able to sit down in either your car or the Camaro."

"Good thinking," she said, quickly adding, "But the truck is at my house, so would you mind driving by there?" She heard Danny agree, then told Steve, "Danny's on his way with your truck. Problem solved."

"Thanks, Danno," Steve shouted in the phone while leaning front-forward onto the Vette. Dropping his head onto his arms, he heard Danny shout something in the phone. "What'd he say?"

"He said, 'Anytime, P.I.T.A.'," Catherine repeated with a soft giggle.

"P.I.? What the heck does that mean?"

"Really, Steven," Danny said as Catherine held out the phone for him to hear. "That is short for 'Pain in the Ass'. Which you are. In more ways than one."

"Shut up, Danno. I'd rather walk home than listen to your jokes."

Catherine placed the phone back into her purse and rubbed her hand across Steve's back. "But you're my pain in the ass. Let's go back to my place and I promise to take real good care of you."

"Promise?"

"Of course. And not one single butt joke."

"Good."

"Because no matter if it is black and blue, you've still got the best tushie on the island."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Not a chance, Sailor, not a chance." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "But… aren't you glad we had dinner?"

"I would have rather had something else," he mumbled with a sigh. "This night did not go as planned."

"No, it didn't," she agreed. "And while it may not have ended the way we wished, we can still make the most of it," she leaned in and whispered in his ear. "I bet I can take your mind off that portion of your anatomy."

"Cath, I don't think I can—"

"Of course you can't! I was planning on giving you a back rub."

"Oh. Not exactly the part of my anatomy I had planned satisfying tonight."

"Mind out of the gutter, Commander. Hey! Here comes Danny."

"Can't wait."

As the truck pulled up and stopped before them, Steve could already see the grin on his partner's face. He opened the door and pointed his finger at Danny. "Not. One. Word. Do you hear me? Zip it."

Danny just shook his head, his smile growing wider. "Great to see you, too, Partner."

"How do you want to do this, Steve?" Catherine asked. "If you get in the back, you can sort of la—never mind. Front seat, it is." Seeing his murderous look, she quickly shut up and waited for him to slowly climb into the passenger seat.

"Aren't you getting in?" he asked.

"Ah, I'm taking my car home, so I'll follow you. Take care of him, Danny." She closed the door and turned back to her car.

Danny watched as Steve tried to get comfortable.

He initially sat on one butt cheek.

And then the other.

Wiggling, he managed to press both feet on the floorboard under the dash to relieve most of the weight off his backside, resting his shoulders against the back of the seat. Each movement was accompanied with an all-suffering sigh.

"Hey, before we head to Catherine's, do we need to stop for any prescriptions?"

The look he received could have melted lead. "For bruises, Danny? Really?"

"How do I know what's wrong with you – I can't say anything, ergo I can't ask."

"My butt is bruised, that's all. No prescriptions, no therapy, no nothing. I just want to go home… I mean to Cath's."

"Should you call your mother and—"

"I dare you to finish that statement."

Thankfully Danny didn't have to reply. He pulled into Cath's driveway and stopped the truck. "We're home, Honey. Should I walk you to the door?"

"Bite me." Steve eased out of the truck backwards and slid to the ground, then slammed the door. The muscles had seized up on him during the ride and he had to hold onto the door handle before he could get his legs moving once again.

Danny came around the front of the truck, dangling the keys in his hand. "You're welcome, Partner. Glad to help you out."

Catherine joined them and placed one arm around Steve's waist, looking at him with a frown on her face. "Did you not even say 'thank you'?" Shame on you!"

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his partner. "Thanks," he grumbled. "Take care of my truck."

"Your truck can stay here," Danny told him. "But my car and I are leaving." Danny winked at Catherine. "Have fun tonight."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks for the ride. At least one of us appreciates it." She unlocked the door and stood aside for Steve to enter. When his back was turned, she made the motions of a noose tightening around her neck as Danny pulled out of the drive.

"Are you coming or are you gonna make goo-goo eyes at my partner out there?"

"Seriously. Could you get any crankier?" Catherine hung her purse handle over a dining room chair and turned to face him, hands on her hips.

Steve hung his head and mumbled. "I'm sorry. I just wanted, I mean, I thought…"

She walked toward him and wrapped her arms around him. "I know what you wanted. The same thing *I* want. But that will have to wait. Now why don't you go try and get comfortable on the bed and we can watch some TV. I'll even bring you a beer."

"Make it two," he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm going to need them."

"Deal." She pulled back and looked at him before giving him a sweet kiss. "I love you, Sailor."

"I'm sorry I'm a grump," he told her. "I'll be better."

~~~H50~~~

Famous last words.

A mere 45 minutes later, Catherine was already to throttle him. She felt bad when she had the fleeting thought of I wonder if it is too late to send him home to his mother. But she quickly pushed that thought aside. He had been injured enough tonight. And like she had assured him… he was her PITA. Hers and hers alone.

Finis 5.6.13