home * fandoms * firefly * bottom
WARNING: If you haven't read the warning on the index page, go back and read it. If you don't, and you don't like what you find here, don't come crying to me.
Title: Home and Dry

Author: Eleanor K.

Fandom: Hawaiian Dick

Pairing: Byrd/Mo Kalama

Rating: PG

Posted: 5 May 2003

Spoilers: mild for issue #3

Email: emungere@gmail.com

Disclaimer: Hawaiian Dick belongs to B. Clay Moore, Steven Griffin, and Image Comics, and everyone should go read it immediately so they'll make money and do more.

Notes: Hawaiian Dick takes place on Oahu in 1953. Byrd is a private detective, and Mo is a cop. They were buddies in the war (World War II, Pacific Campaign). The website's here if you're interested, and they've got some nifty pictures:


"You ought to come in," I told Mo when we pulled up in front of my house. "Get dried off."

He wasn't the one who had taken an unplanned dip in the ocean, but his clothes were as sodden as mine. Still, he could've said no. He could've dried off just as well at home, and it wasn't that much farther to drive.

"Sure," he said. "Thanks."

The rain was warm, but I had goose bumps all up and down my arms and pricking at my legs. The Pacific can be one mighty cold mother of an ocean when she wants to, and that was no night for swimming.

Mo opened the door for me. He put a hand on my back to guide me through, and it was so large it covered my whole shoulder blade. Warm, too. I could feel that warmth through my clothes, and I wanted to stay there and lean back into it.

"Keep on walking, ali'i. You're letting the rain in."

He gave me a push. It wasn't much, but I was cold and wet and dead-dog tired. I would've fallen if he hadn't caught me. He took my shoulders and held me at arm's length, frowning.

"You sure you shouldn't have stayed at the hospital?"

"I don't like hospitals, Mo. You know that."

"Yeah. I also know you're a stubborn son of a bitch who doesn't have the common sense god gave a doorknob."

"Yeah. Don't know how I made it through all those years without you around to look after me."

He shook his head sadly. "Blind luck, man. Sheer blind luck." He punched my shoulder, so lightly I barely felt it. "Go get dried off. I'll make coffee."


After I dug out some dry clothes for Mo--biggest I had, and they'd still be tight on him--I got in the shower.

It's funny what makes you feel clean. I remember the coastal swamps we always seemed to end up fighting in during the war. I remember having so much blood on me that mud and sand felt clean by comparison.

I soaped myself up and thought about scrubbing my hands with sand, scouring them because I couldn't stand the sticky-tacky feel of semi-congealed blood any more. Thought about Mo doing the same, kneeling beside me in waterlogged sand that sucked at our knees under a hot steel sky.

We all stank so bad by then that our noses went on strike. We couldn't smell our own stench, and after a while it got so I couldn't smell Mo's either. We marched side by side when our unit was on the move. We stood watch together. We ate together. We slept together.

I woke up one morning to find him gone. I followed his tracks in the sand and found him standing in the surf.

"I miss home, Byrd," he said. "Let's ditch this place. If they come looking for us, we can hide out in the mountains on the Big Island. They won't have any better luck finding us there than we're having trying to find the Nips here."

"Sounds good to me. We'll hop the next plane. The Army can suck my dick if they don't like it." I shielded my eyes with a hand and scanned the horizon. Empty ocean in front of us, miles of trackless jungle behind us. "So when's that plane due? I want one of those fruity tourist drinks they give you in first class."

"With little umbrellas."

I kicked at the waves. They should have come to extract us five days ago.

"Yeah. Little umbrellas."

We were there for two more weeks. When we ran out of toothpaste, Mo found some vine he recognized from home that bled oozy green when he cut a chunk off, and used it to scrub his teeth. I had my doubts, but he made me do the same before he'd kiss me.

I looked down at the blue-green tile of my shower floor and thought about the way his mouth tasted, bitter and fresh and cold.

Hot water poured over my head, and my shivers eased. I wondered what his staying here tonight meant, but I was too tired to really care. I wanted him here. If I could get him into my bed, even better. I wasn't looking to jumpstart what we had ten years ago. Just having him beside me tonight would be enough.


"Took you long enough." Mo handed me coffee. "Though you'd melted and slid down the drain. Didn't you get enough water tonight?"

"I was cold," I mumbled around the rim of my coffee cup. The steam bit at my eyes, and I closed them.

The next thing I felt was large, warm hands at my waist, pulling me back against him. He draped an arm over my shoulder, across my chest. His chin rested on the top of my head, and the rumble of his voice vibrated through my body.

"Hell, Byrd, I would've warmed you up. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

home * fandoms * firefly * top