The Marshal And The Dancer

The Marshal and the Dancer

I do not own or have rights to Disney or any Lilo and Stitch characters. This is for entertainment only.

There isn't a lot of smut in this first chapter. It's heavy on introduction and stage setting, but with plenty of drama and fluff. There will be more smut in chapters to follow if this story draws interest.

---

I have only been posted in Hawaii for a grand total of a month now, and most of that has been getting settled into my new living arrangements and getting acquainted with the Kauai Federal Marshal's Office. It also happens to be the smallest Marshal's office in the 50 states. It's a couple desks in the island's courthouse.

I'm a Maine man, and the locals don't let me forget it. I've been called a "haole" or foreigner, more than once. They don't take kindly to outsiders, let alone feds. It's a tight-knit community that looks after their own and is rightfully weary of mainlanders who might be the carpet bagging type.

Knowing that makes every traffic stop, just like this one, a hassle. Routine traffic stops aren't usually a Marshal deputy's job, but when it's just us and a small sheriff's department on this picturesque island, we work together.

As I calmly approach the blue hatchback buggy, my hand is nowhere near my sidearm. The last thing I expect an islander to want is a white lawman coming up on them with an itchy finger.

I get to the car that's probably almost the same age as me, and I suppress a chuckle when I see the occupant of the vehicle manually rolling the window down.

When they straighten up and look at me, my breath hitches. It's a young woman, maybe 20 years old. She has gorgeous warm brown eyes, a curvy but strong figure from life on the island, and she wears a practiced fake smile on her olive-bronze tanned face. Oh fuck, I think to myself. In these situations, it's not usually the law man getting clammy hands.

"Aloha, Officer," she says almost flirtatiously, sweeping her glossy long black hair over her shoulder. She's wearing a little peach t-shirt with a heart on the bust, thw bottom cut off at the ribs. Her toned midriff threatens to make my mouth go dry. "What seems to be the problem?" she asks, her voice surprisingly deep in timbre, and that bumpkin island accent makes my cock twitch on its own.

"Good afternoon, Miss." I'm a white boy who just moved here. As much as the tourist in me wanted to say it back, I refuse to appropriate like that, and I think she catches it, her fake smile taking a little edge of reality to it. "I hate to bother you with something seemingly trivial, but I gotta let you know you were going 15 over and your left tail light is flickering on and off. It still works, so I can't give you a ticket for it, but I wanted you to know before someone could try to or it burned out completely."

The girl's smile does become a genuine one, I think. A pink tongue darks out, probably to wet her dry lips before she speaks again. "Well, Officer, uh, I think?" She's right to question. I'm wearing Dickie's slacks and a button-up. My gun and badge are visible, but I didn't introduce myself.

"Deputy U.S. Marshal Mason Keats," I say and offer a hand.

She takes it, and I watch her expressive face closely as her eyes just barely narrow at the corners before she catches herself. She hates white feds, too. "Nani Pelekai," she says, trying to force a friendly air. "You'd know that if you asked for my license and registration..." she trails off, getting suspicious.

"I'll ask for those if I decide you need a ticket, but we're not there yet," I say casually as I lean back on her car. "Can I ask why you were speeding?"

She sighs and tries not to roll her eyes. "This car and me came out the same year, Deputy. The pedals are sticky at best and they don't always listen to me. It's just me and my baby sister, and I'm not exactly swimming in repair funds." She pauses."I might be able to afford fixing the tail light, though. Anyway," she continues and I stifle a chuckle. "I... I'll try to get them fixed because I understand speeding is illegal and having a jumpy car with questionable at best breaks is a safety concern for me and my sister."

I stand there a moment, my arms crossed over my fitted shirt as I contemplate. "I won't be needing your license and registration today, Ms. Nani," I tell her as I push off from her car.

"You're not giving me a ticket?" the young woman asks, her mouth sliding open a little.

"No ma'am," I tell her as I put my brown, large brimmed fedora back on. It's cheesy, but it endeared me to the locals a little. It's actually quite practical under the intense Hawaiian sun, as well. "You have enough troubles without having to pay off a ticket or two. You can use that money a whole lot more than a federally and tax funded office." I tip my brim and head back to my car.

"Thank you, Deputy!" she calls after me.

"Take care of yourself and that baby sister," I say, parting as I tuck back into my Lincoln Continental.

---

After a day of learning more about the island of Kauai and its people a little more, my shift comes to its end and I pack up to leave the office for the day, wanting to get back to my cozy duplex.

Before I can get out, however, a giant of a local that also happens to be the sheriff comes in. "Hey there law man," he teases like he isn't one too, in his deep raspy voice. "What do you say we head to the luau and kick back a brew or two. I'll buy you a kalua pig taco."

As I pick up my hat, I look up at the burly sheriff who is easily 6'5". "You know what, Jonah? That sounds like a hell of a time. Let's roll."

"We're taking your car. It's nicer than mine with that federal salary of yours." I can just laugh at him. Jonah has been nothing but kind and welcoming to me since I arrived.

---

Once we get through the wooden gates of the outdoor luau, I follow Jonah as he passes the 'wait to be seated' sign.

"This has been my table since I was a little kieki," he says. "Having access to this table if it's not already taken is the only protection fee I charge," he chuckles and winks at me. I crack a smile, but part of my sensibilities says that's not something to really joke about.

"It's a nice seat," I say as I take the seat next to him, our backs to a wall, a view of the whole crowd as well as the stage. With the tactical and practical vantage points, I can see why he likes this table.

"Oe! Aloha, Sheriff!" I hear a voice now familiar to me as of a few hours ago. She sounds a lot happier to talk to Jonah, but I don't begrudge them. I have a long way to go to earn this tight-knit island's trust.

"Aloha, Nani!" the sheriff beams as the young woman comes around our table and into my view.

I clench my teeth to stop my jaw from dropping. This woman is absolutely gorgeous. Her long dark hair is perfect with a bright white flower adorning it. Her makeup is warm but subtle, accenting her soft features. She's wearing a vivid blue bralette and a matching beach wrap, a lot of her caramel skin and muscle tone on display.

Of course the perceptive sheriff catches me staring and says, "Nani, have you met Deputy Marshal Mason Keats yet?" A knowing smirk plays on his face. This fucker.

"Aloha, Deputy. Yes I have," she says with a polite smile, a hand on her shapely hip and an empty drink tray in the other. "He pulled me over today," she says flatly, addressing the sheriff but keeping those big brown eyes on me. Her lips quirk into a tiny smile. "He could have given me a ticket, but he didn't."

Jonah turned his big bullish head and smiled at me. "A soft U.S. Marshal?" he teased, thinking he knew I was up to something.

"Just empathetic," I corrected. "I'm from a small fishing town in Maine, Sheriff. Not much more money to go around back home than there is here. I remember being in my early 20s and scraping by. I'm only 26 now, so it's fairly recent."

Jonah laughs and claps his bear paw of a hand on my shoulder. "Shit, Deputy. You're young enough to be my son. Maybe I should retire soon."

I tip my brim to Nani and say, "We've taken enough of your time, Miss. We'll let you get back to your tables." I worked restaurants through high-school and to put myself through college, mainly as a cook, but I knew how grating it could be for one table to monopolize their time.

"I'll be back in a moment to grab your orders, okay? The sheriff always sits in my section, but he has since before I was born, let alone working here," she says with a wink and saunters off, her hips swaying naturally but the motion is accentuated by her beach wrap.

Damn, I say to myself. My eyes lingering on Nani's fine retreating form draws a laugh from the older public servant next to me.

"Be careful, Deputy," he warns. "Nani is a pistol, and you'd be crazy if you think she'd ever put a man over her baby sister. She lives to take care of that poor kid."

"Nani briefly mentioned something about her, how it's just those two," I say as my eyes go over the drink menu. "What's the beer the locals get, Sheriff? I don't want a touristy beer."

Jonah smiles. "Let me do the ordering, law man. I know what's good here." I put my trust in the big ass Hawaiian with smiling eyes, and I don't even look at the menu as we talk shop, how policing on this island works, and how I can connect with these people, serve them better, without trying too hard. I recognize that I have a high level of otherness that I need to hurl over, but I still have a job to do.

Jonah tells me that a lot of the crime here is mainly poverty crime, which I'm used to back in my small Maine town. But you add on the tourist element and the resort on the island, there's a class and cultural strife I didn't have at home. This is not easy, and I don't have home field connections to lean back on. The sheriff and the other two Marshal deputies here are all I have in my "ohana," as they say, and I think Tom Callway is a little shit.

When Nani makes her way back to us, she has frosted mugs and two bottles in her hand. "When the sheriff drinks with someone, they get what he has," she smiles. "Want me to pour for you?" She doesn't seem excited at the prospect, as it usually just gives the tourists an extra chance to ogle the pretty island girls, I expect.

"No thank you, ma'am. I can pour just fine," I say as I reach out and take my half of the spirits and glassware. "You've got plenty to do, I see." It's a busy Thursday night on the island, and the place is a madhouse.

"Mahalo," she says with a relieved smile and scurries off to go see to a table of white men like me with their glasses in the air, waiting for another round of expensive fruity cocktails, no doubt.

"What's her story, Jonah?" I ask, flipping my head towards the hard working beauty.

Jonah sighs, and I know it's a tear jerker. "Nani and Lilo's parents died in a car wreck when Nani was still in high school and Lilo was really little. Their parents were two of the greatest people, super warm and inviting mana," he explains. "Nani was left a house and an old beat up car by way of inheritance, and not much else. That young woman is a fighter, and you did right by not ticketing her.

"Keep up that spirit, Mason," he says my name for the first time, "and this island will come to respect you. It's been a long... we've never had a white mainland lawman that could connect with us, gave a shit about us." I feel the energy change and his usually warm eyes harden over like steel and it makes me gulp. "Don't turn your back on us, and don't shit on us. This island has its ways, and if you're not meant to be here, you won't be here long."

The sheriff's usually kind expression returns and I feel like I can breathe again as Nani returns, a real smile on her face. It's a night and day difference from her customer service plastered smile. "What'll it be tonight, Sheriff?" Nani asks pleasantly, no notepad necessary.

"Law man from Maine here is more than familiar with lobster, but he's never had a good kalua pig taco. We'll split a family platter and two sides of sweet potato fries. Mahalo," he beams.

Nani smiles and throws him a half-assed, albeit adorable, salute, and hastens off.

"That family platter of tacos feeds six, easy," Jonah tells me. "Eat your fill, but if you don't mind, I'd like Nani to take the leftovers home for her and little Lilo."

I nod in understanding, and my heart does a little flip. This sheriff is what cops should be. He looks like he could wrestle a black bear to a stand still, but he's just a big teddy bear... until you piss him off, I bet. The way he looks after his own is entirely commendable and endearing.

"You got it, Sheriff. I've no problem with that."

As the night wears on, Jonah and I drink slowly and responsibly, and enjoy the stage shows the luau bar and grill has to offer, and I find a new obsession in kalua pig. The platter is just as big as Jonah warned me it would be. I usually don't like sweet potatoes, but these fries are otherworldly. I learn the secret is that once they've been fried, they're tossed in a bowl with seasoning salt and bacon grease. It's a heart stopper, but so fucking good.

"Oi, Nani!" Jonah calls once the majority of our skilled waitress's section clears out. "Law man and I have had our fill, and there's plenty of tacos and sweet fries left. Law Man is too humble to show his charitable heart, but he said you should take them home for you and Lilo."

The smile on Nani's face melts my heart and short circuits my brain. I'd die happy if I could see that smile at least once a week. "Mahalo, Deputy. That's so sweet of you. Lilo loves the sweet potato fries here, and the tacos are my favorite. We'd be more than happy to take your leftovers if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I nod and smile, happy to have the goodwill points the sheriff handed me. "Once you've got those squared away for yourself, I'll take the bill," I say.

"Mahalo, Law Man," Jonah smiles and grabs my shoulder. "That is very kind." I think he knew I was going to pick up the tab, but his thank you felt genuine.

After getting the check, I leave a generous tip, paying Nani for her service, but also an extra 10% because she was slammed and never missed a beat. I respect the hell out of that, and I wanted to leave an extra cushion in case she wasn't as properly appreciated by the rest of her tables.

As I leave my signature, I see a little note scrawled in aqua blue ink. "You were great. Mahalo! :)." I realize that I signed the customer copy and not the merchant. I sign the proper one, and something in my chest compels me to keep the guest check with Nani's note.

I look over at the sheriff and I know he saw my sleight of hand. "We talked about a lot of business today, Sheriff. That makes this a business meal courtesy of the United States Marshals," I bullshit, but he laughs knowingly.

"Nani's got you bad, doesn't she, Law Man?"

"Shut up," I say as I put my hat back on and stand to leave.

---

The next morning, I'm out for my early morning run, and I stop at a crossroads for the school bus to do a pick up. Again, I hear that voice.

"Have a good day at school, Lilo! And please... no fighting today!" I hear the pleading voice of a concerned older sister.

"No promises!" I hear a young voice answer back before the bus pulls its stop sign back in and pulls away. I hear Nani groan in frustration.

I kick up my heels, ready to continue my run, but Nani sees me and waves. "What, are you stalking me now?" Her hands on her wide hips and a stern face make me think she's serious, but then she cracks a smile.

I laugh back and relax a little. "Not at all, ma'am. Just a series of coincidences," I assure her. "Well, I best let you get on with your day. I know you're busy." I know I'm not wearing my signature hat, but I mimic tipping my brim all the same, and she smiles.

"Thanks for the leftovers last night, by the way. Your tip was very generous, too," Nani says, holding me back a little, like she wants to extend this chance meeting a little more.

"You're welcome," I nod and cross the street so we don't have to be so loud. As I get closer, my sensitive nose picks up her scent. She smells like hibiscus and ocean spray. It's intoxicating. "I wasn't going to eat all those leftovers. And you were busting a... you worked hard last night and I wanted to recognize that." I catch my mouth and adjust.

Nani smiles and flips her long black hair, the morning breeze having momentarily caught it to put it over her eye. Her eyes look down at my hands. "Is that a grease burn scar? You did some cooking, Law Man?" she asks with the sheriff's nickname for me.

"Good eye," I say and hold out my hand for her to examine. She takes it in her much smaller hand.

Her hands are small but far from dainty. They're strong with a toughness to them. Nani has the hands of a hard worker, a caretaker.

"Wow, you have a strong lifeline," she tells me, the pad of her thumb tracing the creases of my palm.

"What does that mean?" I ask, looking at her, and then my breath hitches when she turns those big brown doe eyes up at me from under her lashes.

"I have no idea," Nani says with a smirk. "I just wanted to see how you'd react. You just think all islanders are palm and tea leaf readers?" she teases.

I tilt my head back and laugh throatily, willing to admit when I've been had. I go back to answer her original question. "Anyway, I've had a few kitchen shifts. Worked as a dishwasher to support myself through high-school and then got into cooking at a fish place in college. Fantastic clam chowder, and I don't even like clams."

She smiles warmly at me. "A hard worker that recognizes game. I like that," she smirks. There's something quickly growing between me, a law man who's just closer to 30 than 20, and this early 20-something year old island girl in a flowing sundress. I need to separate us quickly.

"Well, it was nice running into you again, ma'am. I should finish my run and get ready for work."

Nani smiles and looks away, probably becoming aware of how much longer she held me here. "Yeah, I should clean up the house before Lilo can get home and trash it again," she laughs.

Sounds like an everyday kind of battle," I chuckle. Fuck. I still haven't left yet.

"One more thing before I let you go," Nani says, and my heart can't stop pounding. "When I get that new light for my tail light, do you know how to change them?' She looks a little shy. "Because I don't, and I'd like to save some money if I can avoid a mechanic."

We're playing on ice that's getting thinner and thinner, and I chip away another layer. "Yeah. I can help you with that. I'm usually free in the evenings, when you have a night off."

Nani smiles brightly, showing white teeth, and her eyes sparkle. "That'd be fantastic, mahalo! I have Monday off, if that works for you," she says, sounding hopeful.

"Monday it is," I confirm. "I'm out of the office by 5 most days."

"That'd be perfect, Marshal," she says seriously, seemingly happy to have me sunk in for the job. "Okay, I'll let you go now. Aloha oe," she says with a smile and a wave. I wave back and take off to finish my run.

I just need to survive two days and hope I can finish some basic tasks, but I know I'll be distracted as all hell with thoughts of this girl that's quickly stealing my common sense.

---

Monday at 5 rolls around and as soon as the 4 o'clock hour is done, I shut my work laptop, fit my fedora on my head, and I'm out the door.

"What's the rush?" Deputy Marshal Chief Craig Sanders asks my retreating back. "Hot date or something, big shoots?" he teases.

"Gotta go help a friend with car trouble," I answer vaguely as I wave over my shoulder.

As I get downstairs and slip out of the courthouse, I realize that I have no idea where the fuck Nani and Lilo live.

It doesn't seem to be a huge problem, because on a bench outside, I see Nani's profile.