H50: Jimmy Choos for Cops
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Pairing: Kono and Chin friendship
Word Count: 1,000 exactly
Warnings: A little bit of blood. Nothing life-threatening.
A/N: Written for the picfor1000 challenge for this picture here. Quick beta by saekokato, because she's awesome.
Disclamer: H50 belongs to CBS and affiliates.
Summary: Kono took off after the bad guy by herself.
Kono shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t mind the undercover jobs. It let her pretend to be someone else for the moment. She could slip into someone else’s clothes and someone else’s personality just for a short time. And it took down the bad guy, which was the best part.
She wore a flowing cotton dress. The kind worn at cocktail parties, where rich mainlanders served colorful, fruity drinks with rum and those silly, little paper umbrellas. The dress was airy, backless, and allowed her to easily conceal her gun while showing enough skin to convince anyone that she wasn’t concealing a gun.
It was the heels that were killing her.
She couldn’t run in them – she could barely walk in them, and they had a strap that ran directly over her ankle, biting into the bone. The heel itself was a five inch spike. The shoes were not meant for comfort. She wasn’t even sure the shoes were made for aesthetics, either. She wasn’t going to let Steve choose the shoes next time around, and she wondered how that had been under his prevue to begin with.
The party was a cocktail party, thrown by a rich mainlander. Except this rich mainlander was an extortionist of the highest degree and had killed three local girls under the age of thirteen. After he or one of his goons had raped them. He was the highest order of creep, and Kono would be glad when he was removed from her island.
Steve and Danny were off in the shrubbery surrounding the house, bickering with each other, waiting to back her up. Kono had already tuned them out. They had already been made as cops, so Kono was at the party with Chin, who couldn’t be seen with her, because he had his own mission of finding damning documents.
It was sudden, all hell breaking loose. One moment the creep was speaking to a nicely-dressed couple with open body language and a smarmy smile, no doubt trying to sell them snake oil, the next guns were drawn at Chin and the creep ran for it.
They always ran.
Steve and Danny could handle helping Chin, but that left just Kono to catch the creep.
Kono took off after him. Her ankles rocked as she ran on the uneven ground, until she rolled an ankle completely and snapped a heel.
She made a soft sound of disgust and yanked her shoes off completely, snapping a strap. She hoped that Steve hadn’t planned on returning the shoes from where he had procured them. She ran down the path after the creep, shoes dangling in hand.
She was vaguely aware of the pebbles and rocks against her feet, but years of surfing had built up calluses and scar tissue. She wasn’t worried about her feet. She was worried about the bad guy escaping justice. They had invested too much time to lose him now, and Kono would never forgive herself if another girl was hurt and she could have prevented it.
She caught up with the bad guy after about a quarter of a mile. He was running out of steam, staggering onto the soft sand of the beach as his adrenaline wore off.
She barely had time to register that he drew a gun on her before she swung her shoes and hit him across the face with a nasty right cross.
The creep crumbled to the sand.
“Whoa,” Danny said, appearing behind her. His glock was aimed at the felled creep. “Remind me to buy Grace that pair of the heels she’s been asking for.”
Kono gave him a slight smirk. “I didn’t have room for cuffs. Do you want to book him?”
“My pleasure,” Danny said. He returned her smirk.
:: :: ::
Kono didn’t pay attention to her feet until they were back at HQ. She hadn’t even realized until Chin handed her the sandals she had worn in that morning.
She slipped on her sandals and winced.
“Cuz?” Chin asked.
“I chased the creep barefoot,” Kono explained. She sunk into a chair.
“Let me see.” Chin knelt beside Kono’s chair.
Kono sighed. “It’s all right,” she protested.
“Cuz,” Chin repeated sternly.
Sometimes Kono wished that Chin didn’t care so much about everyone. Didn’t worry so much about everyone. It ended in only trouble for him, and Kono didn’t want to be more trouble for him. She didn’t want him to look at her feet. Chin was better than looking after the feet of others.
Chin lifted up her left foot and examined it. He made a soft, disapproving sound.
“Looks like you ran over some glass,” he said in that concerned tone that made Kono uncomfortable. “Let me get the first aid kit.”
As Chin left the room, Kono lifted up her foot to examine it herself. Beside the fact that they were filthy, there were also tiny smears of blood. She had been expecting the filthy but not the blood.
She wrinkled her nose at her foot and switched feet. It was the same thing: filthy and blood.
She sighed and squirmed a bit in the chair.
Chin returned with a kit. He knelt down next to her again and meticulously set about removing shards of glass from her feet. He worked in silence, but Kono knew what he was thinking. It was what she didn’t want to think about. About a bad wipeout. About how it took over 12 hours for the medics to remove all the gravel from her body. About how the sand took months to be fully gone.
Chin doesn’t say anything, but he’s thinking it. He had the same expression as he did back then.
Kono shoved it from her mind. This time was about how she won, not how she lost. But that didn’t matter to Chin whether it was a win or loss. Kono was glad for that.
“I’ll drive you home,” Chin offered with a partial smile.
Kono smiled at him and accepted.