blue flamingos


Fandom: Hawaii Five-0

Category/Rated: Het/PG13

Year/Length: 2011/1687 words

Pairing: Kono/Jenna


Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.


Summary: Undercover in a dyke bar


Author's Notes: written for such_heights's Female Character Trope Fest


Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.


"You can't go in," Steve said firmly, when it turned out that the three missing women had all been to Chemisstry the night before they'd gone missing.

"Uh, Boss, don't know if you noticed, but I'm the only woman on this team." Which was a whole other discussion that Kono wasn't up for having right now.

"She's got a point," Danny agreed. Though he was still staring at the security footage of the bar, which Kono figured undermined his support a little, even with Chin nodding agreement.

"It's a lesbian bar." Steve gestured to the screen. "There've been three things in the gossip pages about you and Ben Bass since –"

"You read the gossip pages?" Danny asked, delighted, at the same time as Kono said, "You believe the gossip pages?" Just because the two of them had been famous on the islands for five minutes with Coral Prince, a few kisses and a revived friendship did not a torrid affair make.

"I don't, but that doesn't mean our kidnapper doesn't," Steve said, side-stepping Danny's question. "We send you in alone, you'll get made in no time flat. Especially since..."

"Since?" Kono prompted.

Steve gave Chin a despairing look. "He means you don’t look like the women who were taken," Chin said, pulling up the pictures. He had a point – all three of them looked like stereotypical lesbians: short hair, jeans, boots. She didn't exactly fit, even if she did put her hair up.

"That's okay," she said. "I know someone."


Jenna said no five times in very quick succession, then, "I don't have any field training, I'm not a police officer, I'm officially on leave, I really think this is a bad idea."

Kono'd seen the picture of Jenna's fiancée that she carried, and heard the way Jenna's voice trembled talking about her, so she couldn't exactly bring out the, "Don't you want to stop whoever this is before anyone else gets hurt?" guilt trip, even knowing it would work.

"Look," she said instead, sitting on the edge of Jenna's hotel bed so as not to tower over her, "This is important. I need someone to go with me, and it's not like I can take any of the guys."

Jenna tilted her head. "I think Commander McGarrett would make a decent woman, actually. With the right clothes, some make-up."

Kono laughed, torn between imagining the horror on Steve's face if she suggested it, and conceding that in fact Jenna might have a point and it would probably be disturbingly hot. "You wouldn't have to do anything. Just hang out with me and look available."

Jenna gave Kono a slow once-over that made her shiver in a way that was totally inappropriate with someone who was chasing down her fiancée's killer. What could she say? Jenna was hot, and didn't exactly seem uninterested in Kono. "Look available, while sticking with you." She sounded doubtful.

Kono grinned. "Dance with some hot women, and try not to get kidnapped." She batted her eyelashes – hey, a girl worked with what she had in the moment, and her awesome roundhouse kick and sniper skills weren't exactly useful here. "Please?"

"You're paying for my drinks," Jenna said firmly.


"You could have mentioned that we're only allowed non-alcoholic drinks," Jenna grumbled, leaning next to Kono at the corner of the bar and sipping her soda through a straw.

"Sorry," Kono said, mostly unrepentant. "Must have forgotten."

"Hmm," Jenna said doubtfully. "So, tell me more about the person we're looking for."

Kono slouched a little, bringing her mouth closer to Jenna's ear. Just because the music was loud, and she didn't want to have to shout. Not because Jenna leaned into it, even if she did keep her eyes firmly on the dance floor, about half-full of women dancing together, in pairs and groups, and a couple on their own, both trying to make eye contact with different women on the sidelines. "We know all three women came here – the door staff remember them. They're all out, told their friends they were hoping to meet someone, came here alone. The bar staff remember serving them drinks at the start of the evening, but that's all we've got."

"No cameras?"

"Customer privacy and confidentiality is important to us," Kono recited from the bar's manager. "No-one remembers seeing any of them leave, and none of the bar staff remember serving them after about ten, when it gets really busy."

"No suspects?"

"None of the staff really remember anyone standing out. And they get a lot of regulars, or women on vacation who come in every night for a few days then vanish. Nothing concrete to go on."

Jenna nodded, surveying the dance floor again. "So," she asked, not looking at Kono, "Are you one of the regulars here?"

Kono shook her head, watching Jenna's face fall ever so slightly. She leaned in closer. "I'm more a surf bar kind of girl."

"Yes?" Jenna asked.

"Mm," Kono said, low. "More my kind of girls there, too."

The club was dark, so Kono couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she saw a blush chase its way across Jenna's face. She took a sip of her own drink, hiding her smile.


Since their working theory was that whoever was taking these women was choosing them because they were looking to be picked up, Jenna accepted a couple of offers to dance, then a few more as the evening went on. And even if she was used to lesbian clubs, she wasn't a field agent, didn’t have that training to fall back on.

Kono would swear, later, that she only took her eyes off Jenna for a handful of seconds, just long enough to scan the increasingly busy bar for anyone who might be suspicious. Except that, when she looked back to where Jenna had been dancing with a tall, blonde woman, neither of them were there.

No reason to panic, Kono told herself, even as she knocked her left foot against the gun Steve had given her, tucked in her right boot. They could have gone to the bar, gone to sit down, gone to find somewhere quiet – but they hadn't, and Kono had told Jenna not to step out of Kono's line of sight, Jenna had promised...

Kono pulled her phone from her pocket, dialling Steve as she moved towards the unguarded rear fire exit. "Boss, I've lost eyes on Kaye."

She heard Steve curse, then his voice faded slightly, checking in with Chin at the back of the club, Danny at the side. "No sign out here. You sure she's left?"

Something glinted on the floor inside the door. The bracelet Jenna had been wearing, blue glass beads on a thin string. "I'm sure," Kono said, pocketing it and drawing her gun.

"We're on our way. Wait for backup," Steve said, like he didn’t see the irony in that at all.

Kono pocketed her phone without answering and slid out of the door. It opened onto a long, dark alley that led around the side of the bar and onto the street. Kono made her way softly down it, listening for – there. Someone stumbling and a low voice. She peered around the corner, saw Jenna with the blonde woman she'd been dancing with, the woman holding her close, arm at an awkward angle that probably meant she was holding a weapon on Jenna. They'd be on the street in a few seconds, probably catch Chin coming the other way, but Kono had promised to keep Jenna safe, even if she hadn't actually said it out loud.

One nice thing about dyke bars – no-one looked at you funny if you wore rubber soled shoes inside.

"Hi," Kono said.

The woman turned, dragging Jenna with her, said, "What –"

Kono, who'd moved as close as she could get without actually touching, punched her in the face. She stumbled back and down, draggng Jenna with her, but Jenna was quick, even if she wasn’t trained, pulling away as the woman fell. Kono had been right – she was carrying a tiny pistol that dropped from her hand as she reached for Jenna again, and then Jenna was behind Kono, and Kono had the woman's arm twisted up behind her back, was straddling her hips and holding her down. "5-0. Don't move."

Her three team-mates chose that moment to skid around the corner, one-two-three like something out of a Marx brothers movie. She half-expected them to pile into one another as they came to a halt.

"Nice timing," Kono said dryly. "Anyone got a pair of handcuffs they could lend me?"


With Jenna's attempted kidnapper in custody, her confession on tape and the three women she'd succeeded in kidnapping rescued from the basement of her house where she'd been keeping them, for reasons that even she didn't seem all that clear on, Kono offered to drive Jenna back to her hotel.

"Thank you for the rescue," Jenna said, slumping slightly against the passenger window, her eyes on the sun gradually lightening the sky.

"Any time."

"Hopefully not."

"Nice work with the bracelet," Kono added.

Jenna shrugged. "You pick up a few things with the Agency, even as an analyst."

"It was good thinking, though. You know, in the middle of being kidnapped."

Jenna shrugged again. "Not really. I saw the photos of the other women, it seemed like a good idea to have a backup plan. Just in case."

"Oh." Kono concentrated on the road, not sure whether to be impressed with Jenna's forethought or insulted that Jenna had assumed she'd need a backup plan with Kono right there. Of course, she had, so maybe Kono didn't have any right to be insulted.

"Being rescued was nice though," Jenna added. "Since my plan didn't actually go much beyond the bracelet."

"Can't say I don't know how to show a girl an exciting time," Kono said.

"That's one word for it," Jenna agreed. Then, when they were nearly at her hotel, "Next time, just take me to a surfer bar."

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