Chapter 1

Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett was sound asleep and snuggled up to him was his girlfriend, Lt. Catherine Rollins. In her room, Doris McGarrett was also sound asleep. It was a warm night so the house windows were open, screens in place. What no one realized was that one screen in the living room had a small hole in it and that hole was gradually being made wider by something with sharp little claws.

CRASH!

Steve was awake and his gun was in his hand before he was even consciously aware of what he was doing. Catherine was already reaching for the baseball bat she had learned to keep on her side of Steve's bed.

Moving quietly, gun and bat at the ready, the couple headed downstairs. Doris was already there, a mean-looking golf club in her hands. A quick search found only a lamp on the floor, next to a screen with a good-sized hole in it, leaving Steve to cuss. After carefully shutting the window, the search resumed.

"The wind could have knocked it over," Doris suggested.

Steve wasn't convinced, but since neither he nor Catherine could find anyone or anything, he decided whoever it was, was already gone.

Or so he thought.

He had just put his gun back in its hiding place under his pillow when sharp pain suddenly lanced through the vulnerable skin of his ankle. He yelled in pain and fell back on the bed. Catherine, already there, jumped and whirled, bat at the ready.

Doris came running and was in the room when Steve flipped up the covers of his bed, using the light on his gun to see under it. He got a glimpse of golden eyes before something hissed at him and took off from under his bed.

Catherine shrieked involuntarily as something large and furry made a dive for Steve's slightly open closet.

"What the hell?" Steve demanded, adrenaline rushing through him. Something was going on here and he wasn't at all sure he liked it one bit.

Both he and Catherine carefully approached his closet, gun and bat at the ready. Using hand gestures, Steve indicated that on the count of three, Catherine was to pull open the closet door.

"One... two... three!"

Catherine yanked open the closet door and Steve turned his gun light on...

A very, very large brown cat.

The cat hissed, barring its teeth and flattening its ears, large fluffy tail twitching dangerously. This cat was the biggest cat Steve had ever seen. It didn't look like any of the really big cats, as Hawaii didn't have any of the big cats, and he was sure the Honolulu Zoo had not had any recent escapes, so it had to be a feral.

"That is one big cat," Steve muttered.

"Animal control?" Catherine suggested quietly.

"I have a better idea," Doris said. Before her son could say anything, she vanished. A moment later she reappeared, a large piece of Mahimahi (Dolphin Fish) fish on a plate in one hand.

"It's a cat and it's possibly hungry," Doris explained patiently. "So rather than scaring the poor thing with your gun, why not try and make friends with it?"

She carefully placed the plate in the closet and shoved Steve away. The trio backed away and the cat cautiously approached the fish, sniffing the air. Then it attacked the fish, devouring it hungrily while eyeing the humans with caution and suspicion.

"Now what?" Steve asked.

"Now we try to make friends with it," Doris said.

"Make friends with it?" spluttered Steve. "Mom, that is a feral cat, a very big feral cat. You don't make friends with them. That cat will shred us if we get too close."

"How would you know?" Doris scoffed. "Try," she coaxed.

Steve stared at his mother with wide eyes but she didn't back down. "Fine, I will try and make friends with it but if it attacks me, you're driving me to the hospital." He handed Catherine his gun and carefully got down on his knees, approaching the cat carefully.

"Hello, kitty," he said, carefully extending his fingers towards the cat. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. You like the fish, huh? There's plenty more where that came from," he said, continuing to use a soft, coaxing voice.

It took a few minutes before the cat carefully sniffed his fingers. A little more careful coaxing allowed Steve to scratch his chin.

"You are one big cat," he said.

After a full minute the cat allowed him to scratch his head.

"I don't think he's completely feral," Catherine said.

"I'm not so sure either," Doris admitted.

Apparently the cat decided it was safe because it left the closet and moved to the bed. With one elegant jump, it landed on the bed and curled up in the middle as if it belonged there.

Steve stared, his jaw hanging open.

"Made up your mind, have you?" Doris said easily to the cat.

"That cat is not staying here," Steve said.

"Wanna bet?" Doris said.

"That cat is not staying here!" Steve protested. He tried to move towards the cat, who only laid back his ears and hissed at him. "The cat is staying here," he quickly amended.

"We can sleep on the couch," Catherine said, dragging her boyfriend behind her.

"You win, this time, cat, but next time..." Steve threatened.

The cat just yawned.