Night's Omen

Evan had actually felt good for the first time in a while. He'd laid pretty low, for the better part of a year actually, and on this day he woke up and felt like there was an end to all of the bullshit, finally. He would return to work Monday, and he was eager to get back into the swing of things. There were new marks, new trainees, new everything. He'd been offered a trainer's position for a while, Stavros expressing how happy he'd be to have him, but Evan felt like he could do more without being stuck in just one spot. As it stood, he'd be able to float, at least until he settled back down.

The guild was usually slow on Sunday; they had 24-hour shifts, but most of the higher level trainers were home doing things, and so he was genuinely curious to see the light on through the frosted glass of the office door he shared with Aurora. He opened it, fully expecting to find someone like Zahra or Shannon in there going through their files (since neither woman apparently had a life outside of work, if their constant presence around the compound was any indication), and felt something when he saw Aurora, half-seated on her desk, thumbtacks in her mouth, and reaching to pull down her chart.

  "Guess you don't need that anymore," he chirped, not to be set back by feelings. As he came closer to his desk, he realized that she had done more than take down the crazy Pepe Lives conspiracy board - her whole desk was empty, and there was a box in the chair.  "Oh," he said. He didn't know what else to say, but he was sure she'd inspire him as he heard her take in a breath to speak.

"I got transferred," she said after spitting the tacks into her hand. As she spoke, she glanced over her shoulder at him for a second. It was obvious she didn't want to hold his eye contact for long, and so she turned and went back to what she was doing.

He stared at her, crossing his arms. His expression said a lot - more than what he could verbally convey at the moment, unfortunately. When it came to Aurora, he felt himself locking up automatically. Wonder why. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected. After all, you did kind of burn an asset and go rogue," he said flippantly, tossing a hand up as he tilted his head. He turned, pointedly going to his desk and taking a seat. He had his back to her for a moment so she couldn't see his face, which wasn't as impassive as his tone would suggest. He wanted to throttle her, still. But it wasn't out of anger - well, a little was, but even after a year, even after all their conversations and the subsequent apologies, he couldn't let this one go. At least, not for right now.

"Yeah, that about does it. Plus, they want me to keep an eye on Bacchus, and the nomination for that job wasn't at my request," she added flatly. She finally got the whole sheet down, and then folded it up and put it in a second box marked SHRED. Really, that had been the last thing she needed before carrying the burn bin into the small room they kept the printer and shredder in. It was fortunate that she routinely cleaned out her paperwork or she'd have a year's worth of shredding to actually do.

"I didn't say it was," he said, holding his hands up as he straightened out his chair to face his desk more. He busied himself looking at a report that had been put there for his eyes on Monday, something that caught him up on all the theatrics he'd missed, but he found himself reading the same paragraph repeatedly and being unable to discern what it actually said.

Wordlessly, she picked the box up of shit she was keeping, and placed it outside the office door. He could see that she was planning an escape; she'd take the shred box last so that she wouldn't have to come back in. Part of him felt a little guilty; he obviously still cared about her, and he hated that this is how it was about to go down, but at the same time, sometimes all of the apologies in the world couldn't fix something. Maybe Bacchus knew a thing or two about holding a grudge, but he'd never lived as long as a Phoenix had, and they were professionals about it when they deigned to be.

"Alright, Evan," she said softly. "I'll see you around."

Just as her hip was on the door, he finally spoke. "Did you ever love me?" he asked. He set his pencil down from where he'd been angrily doodling a dick on the corner of the report and looked up at her, brows raised. He asked her just like he'd asked her a normal question about the weather.

She sighed, shifting the box. Briefly, she debated setting it down to have this conversation out, but then she thought about the other times she'd already had this conversation. She kept it in her arms. "Why do you keep asking me the same question expecting to get a different answer? Yes, I told you that already."

"Yes?" he asked, sitting back in his chair a little.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Evan, I was in love with you. I told you the truth. I'm telling you the truth, now. Get your head out of your feathered ass and maybe you could see that."

He snorted when she suggested he had a feathered ass. It was rich considering she'd never even seen his other form, but he chose not to highlight the fact that she would never. He looked at her for a long second, studying her, and in the few seconds of silence had walked through every memory he had of her, the last six months or so in particular. "No, I think you're telling me the truth," he said, nodding.

"Wait, what?" She hadn't been expecting that. "What made it suddenly click?"

"Because, you loved your goal," he said matter-of-factly.

"Fucking... alright, Evan," she sighed, setting the box down. She approached him at the desk, and slapped her hands on the front, bending forward to look him in the eye. "This vague shit? I don't have time for it. I know that you do, since, you know, immortal and all, but the rest of us have shit to do. So. I loved you. I didn't lie. I didn't know what the fuck was happening until after it had already happened. I didn't choose to be bitten. I didn't choose to be followed. I did choose to end things with you after you told my fucking sister that Orpheus broke into my apartment because the one thing I told you not to do, ever, was to tell my family anything about my job, and you decided to sit down for bottomless margaritas and tell her the whole story about how he murdered everyone in my fucking building and I got put in a crazy room for a few days while Stav had to clear me mentally fit because of the repeated traumas I suffered."

"Well, I had to tell someone!" he exclaimed. "Rory, you were falling apart at the seams!"

"First of all, you don't ever, EVER fucking call me that," she hissed. "Only one person earned the right to call me that, and it isn't you." She took a breath, backing up a little.  "The problem is that you did tell someone, because EVAN KNOWS BEST, and my brother found out, and got himself killed for the trouble, which is why I didn't want you to tell anyone!" she yelled. "I could never trust you after that!"

Evan responded by slapping his hand next to hers on the desk with a loud noise as he rose and bent, matching her energy. "And I have apologized for that, and I will always regret how that happened, Aurora, believe me." He paused. "But you're not going to talk to me about breaking trust."

"Oh, now it all comes out," she said, pulling away from the desk. "Let it fucking GO, Evan! I almost got you killed, you got my brother killed, let's just - let's just fucking call it even, okay?" She was yelling loud enough that people outside the office could hear them, not that anyone was out there, but it was a testament to how heated they were getting. She put her hands to her face for a moment. "I'm done," she said. "I'm gonna go."

He reached out for her hand, catching her by the wrist. "Aurora - "

"Oh, no," she said, jerking her hand away from him. "You don't get to touch me like that anymore. You lost that right."

Well then. "Okay, Aurora," Evan said, nodding. He walked around the desk and sat on it, gesturing to her. "You want to talk about lost rights? We can talk about that. You lost the right to even look me in the fucking eyes after you used me the way you did. I thought that after a year or so you'd get your head sorted and we could get back to the way things were, but it's painfully fucking obvious that you only loved your obsession, and that obsession was killing Bacchus. Funny story, I heard from a guy on the Onyx payroll that Bacchites' curse is being obsessed. Crazy, right?" he said, raising his hands and laughing.

"I'm going," she said, turning on her heel.

"It's wild that you two ended up together after all this," he said.

That hit her square in the back like a cold knife. She stopped in front of the box, and then took a deep breath, willing herself not to respond. When she bent down to pick it up, he went in for the killshot.

"Honestly, you two deserve eachother. Should have seen it sooner. I mean, you had his photo on your wall, looked at it every day. When you kissed me, it was always his name on your tongue. It wasn't ever going to be you and me. It was always you and him. Isn't that right, Rory?" he asked. His voice was soft as he spoke, almost no emotion in it whatsoever. For a creature of fire, Evan had mastered the art of ice.

She walked out of the office without looking back, her cheeks hot as salty tears stung them. She wouldn't sniffle and she wouldn't sob - she was far past that point in her life, but still, he had known just what to fucking say, hadn't he? It was like he had reached into her soul when he spoke, dragging out all of the dirty things that she didn't like to examine in daylight. She might have been upset, but anger swelled in her body, and at the core of it, something worse, something small, dark, and shameful. Guilt.

“I told him this would happen, I fucking told him.  I didn’t raise a fledgling to be this stupid,” Justinian ranted as they cut a swift pace through the building to the front, Alexander half of a step behind him, but at his shoulder, as was his preference.  Justinian would have had him at his shoulder, but Alexander seemed to take some significance from standing slightly behind him, as though he preferred his place as a shadow at his back over being a direct participant in his business. 

“Not to defend him, but you did drive him completely batshit and then leave him to rage out for a century,” Alexander remarked dryly.  Justinian scoffed.

“I didn’t know that my power would have quite such an extreme effect at the time.” It was only partially true, particularly in that Justinian hadn't cared how much of an effect it would have at the time, and Niall had pissed him off. Niall had once been a rather valiant young warrior of noble blood, and he'd taken issue to the monster in his lands. The problem was that this particular monster was too much for him to handle, and Justinian had left him to be the monster ravaging his own countryside.

“I offered to put him out of his misery,” Alexander pointed out, to which Justinian rolled his eyes. Justinian had found the punishment, as it were, to be fitting, while Alexander had told him he was being childish and tried to talk him into letting him kill the poor fool when it was obvious that he was utterly destroyed.

“It was only fair to give him a chance.”

“I offered again a month ago," he pointed out, giving Justinian a look that actually made the other vampire turn to look at him over his shoulder, pace slowing. Alexander had offered a month ago, and he'd threatened more times than that, particularly when he and Justinian had gotten into a blow-out argument about what had happened to Corinne while he was gone. Justinian, for his part, hadn't actually done anything to harm her himself, and neither had Iloquil, but it had been neglect on their part; they hadn't kept her safe, and they'd trusted Niall and Verity with her, which never should have been allowed. Alexander knew that Justinian's fledgling hated him, and Justinian was no fool himself - he just didn't want to deal with it, and never had to before because Alexander was more than capable of handling his own issues. Corinne, on the other hand, had been brutally abused in his absence, and he'd made clear how he felt about it.

Justinian, being himself, had mostly yelled because he didn't like being told that he'd screwed up, but he'd given in after the initial explosive bits and acknowledged the mistake. He hadn't given in on Alexander's 'offers' to remove Niall from the equation, even if he hadn't outright said that he'd have any issue with it if Niall were to attack him, which Alexander also figured was an eventual thing. He was just more impatient on the issue than usual.

It was Justinian's turn to give him a dry look, apparently not entertained by Alexander's uncharacteristic impatience, but after over two thousand years, he was not only used to his friend's manner, but trusted him implicitly. Justinian didn't have to agree all of the time, but Alexander gave him typically unfiltered advice, and usually with the intent to temper Justinian's own impulses. If Alexander was the one with the impulse this time around, perhaps Justinian was simply not seeing things properly.

"I have everything under control."

"I'd hate to see it out of control, then."

"Alexander, I swear to fuck, if you don't give me a fucking break," he snapped, irritated to see the slightest smile from the corner of his eye. "Listen to me. The unicorn is being freed and her human friend is fetching Gareth. We'll make his entrance a little easier, just to be on the safe side for anyone who doesn't feel inclined to die for this shithole, and Niall can make his own fucking decision. Either he weighs the outcome and abandons this shit, or he's too stupid to live and the monster hunter takes care of the rest."

"Unnecessarily complicated, as usual, but it'll do. I can appreciate letting him make his own bed," Alexander admitted, even if he'd have preferred to just take him out.

"Thank you for your input. As usual, it's both appreciated and not," Justinian shot back, but there was no more to be said. They had the job of clearing the gate, which really just meant that Justin gave instructions while Alexander very deliberately rolled up his sleeves and braced himself for the upcoming fights, and whoever followed them was apparently on their side and told to report to the dungeons and other quarters to assist in evacuation privately. The rest refused, and Justinian shrugged. They'd be the ones that Gareth cut through when he arrived, and Justinian really didn't care enough to discuss it.

They were headed back towards the center of the fortress, both considering what would be coming next when both of their expectations and guesses were proven wrong. There was distant yelling, screaming actually, that started with a woman's voice screaming Niall's name, Alexander heard 'silver-eyed bitch', glanced at Justinian and they both broke into a run. Given that they were ancient vampires, that run put them there within only a few seconds, but it was long enough for the scene to have fully taken form.

Verity's corpse was bleeding on the floor, her eyes gory holes and Corinne wearing her blood as she screamed her rage in Niall's face. Niall was also screaming, rage and grief and madness in his voice and his eyes wild, a side of him that Alexander hadn't actually seen since his early days. He'd come around to put on the airs of being quite the gentleman over the years, and usually seemed more bored and dismissive than anything, but this was Verity who was dead on the floor, so exceptions were understandable. It was a scene that actually managed to dumbfound both Justinian and Alexander, who faltered long enough to really take in Corinne obviously having not only bested Verity but outright killed her and the way that she was defiantly facing down Niall. She couldn't win, not when the first thing he did was sweep up the madness and nightmares that he commanded around them, and Justinian huffed.

“Well, old friend.  Looks like you get your chance," he said, sounding tired of the whole mess already as he squared himself off to block the fight off from the rest of the fortress so that nobody else got caught in the backlash of Niall's nightmares. That left Alexander to rush Niall as Corinne's screams turned from fury to fear.

Niall had apparently been so overtaken with his own emotions that he hadn't taken in his surroundings, because Alexander hit him from the side hard enough that they both went rolling away across the floor and away from Corinne. Alexander rolled to a crouch, looking up to ensure that Corinne was still okay and nodding to her to get to Justinian's side, then focusing in on Niall, who screamed once more and charged him, features distorting with his ability, even though Alexander didn't need the visual to know the monster he was facing.

They went at it hand to hand initially, both bloodying the other with instantly healing injuries in an attempt to get a more dangerous blow in. Alexander smashed Niall's entire body into the stone of the fireplace, only irritated that Niall had managed to move enough to avoid the flames themselves, and snatched up one of the wrought iron tools standing alongside it. Niall was no fae, but the weapon was solid and would do the damage he needed, starting with breaking the younger vampire's arm when he threw it up to protect his face. Alexander didn't falter, swinging again, but Niall twisted the very reality around them, darkening the air and twisting away as what seemed like a swarm of twisted, screaming bat-like lizards tore right at his face. He knew it wasn't real, but it felt real enough to his mind to draw blood when he didn't immediately acknowledge them, which forced him to back off enough to protect himself lest they rip his face off. In those precious seconds, Niall had reached for a real weapon, a sword that Alexander didn't actually think was on fire, but he could feel the heat of it even before Niall got into swinging distance. Fantastic. Justinian was hereby banned from creating any more vampires.

The swirling darkness only became thicker with the black smoke coming off of what had become green flames on the sword Niall held, the acrid scent lodging itself into Alexander's sinuses well enough that he wondered idly if he'd still not be able to get rid of it for the next few hours, even after the illusion itself lifted. The bat-lizards circled, unable to spread out to make space for their growing numbers in the area that Justinian was keeping Niall's influence enclosed in, so the roar of their shrieks and wings desperately beating the air was so deafening that it was almost possible to miss the sound of that flaming sword striking Alexander's fire iron, which he braced with one hand on either end to absorb the full blow and the next that swung lower, trying to push Alexander's crude weapon aside.

When brute force didn't work, Niall slid the blade sideways down the iron's length, forcing Alexander to release that side with a hiss as both heat and blade clipped his arm for a long slice that sprayed the floor with blood just before the heat cauterized it. His other arm brought the fire iron around in a quick, sharp strike that took Niall in the back, pitching him forward and bloodying him and the floor when the ancient yanked the hooked part of the iron back out of his flesh with a scream from the younger.

Even that sound was distorted, as though every new injury, every spot of blood and spike of pain was just compounding the grief, rage and agony that was already consuming the mad vampire. Some of the bat lizards spinning and diving above them, streaking towards Alexander or Justinian where he was focusing on keeping them trapped there, began to scream those distorted screams in an echo of their master, except that those were the ones that jerked around in midair, ripping and popping as they changed into new nightmares with long, hairless legs erupting around their mouths, like a squid's tentacles, if only they were sharp and jagged looking. The fresh beasts dove at Justinian, who swatted one out of midair before it reached him with the kind of disgust he'd have reserved for no more than a fly while Corinne took out another, but there were a lot of them and Justinian wasn't inclined to break his focus.

Alexander threw the fire iron like a javelin and skewered two of them, but in the breath that it had taken him, Niall had apparently lost touch with his own reality enough that he'd just gone and sprouted bat wings of his own, and he was going for Corinne and Justinian right along with his creations, because of course he had.  The ancient darted forward, grabbing him by one of those wings and whipping him backwards in what would have been an impressive arc if Niall hadn't suddenly shot spikes that were up to an inch and a half thick in a wild spray.  Justinian moved slightly towards Corinne and grunted as one embedded itself in his ribs and one in his thigh, Corinne ducked and Alexander could only hope that Justinian took the brunt of it, though he couldn't see anything with the way Niall's flying creatures descended on him right after the harsh impact to his chest that flung him backwards, and then he woke up in his bed with a gasp. 

"That fucker," he hissed, wanting to rub at his chest where he still hurt, but dropping right back into a projection into Midnight's hall.  He was just in time to see that Niall was approaching Justinian and Corinne again, albeit slower and working against Justinian's own power.  Alexander wasn't quite prepared to walk into that wave of insanity, but he blinked rapidly, reining in his two millenia of iron-gripped control, and stalked forward himself.

“Tsk, tsk.  You’ve gotten slow, Justinian,” Niall sneered, and really, Alexander thought that Justinian losing his own grip on his power was not helping matters.  He came up silently in what Samantha had once described as his 'murder strut', all fury waiting to be unleashed, and grabbed him by the back of the neck.

“And you were never smart, asshole,” Alexander snapped, plunging his fist through Niall's ribs, though he had to be honest in that he wasn't really expecting quite the show out of the other.  Justinian's bloodline seemed to all bend reality in some way, such as Alexander's own ability to project a perfectly solid and real version of himself into the world that could die without harm to himself and Corinne's drugging capabilities, but Niall's power seemed to have been heavily formed by the insanity that Justinian inflicted upon him during his transition.  A blow that should have been deadly on any other vampire had Niall shrieking and writhing around, slamming Alexander with those wings as his body twisted and became something that it wasn't.  For all of Alexander's strength and calm, he couldn't actually keep a grip on him, and though he wrenched a piece of Niall out when the younger vampire tore himself free, Niall kept moving around, obviously in intense pain and still changing and distorting as he went. 

It wasn't just Niall twisting himself up, however; the creatures that had been flying around and that had contributed to Alexander's death just moments before were in a frenzy above them, the floor felt like it was throbbing with a heartbeat beneath his feet, and even the walls were writhing with shapes that seemed to be trying to rip through some boundary keeping them confined.  Alexander went after Niall, but it was only in time to see him throw himself literally off of the balcony into the courtyard, and then he sighed, only barely refraining from pressing at the bridge of his nose to ward off the very mortal threat of an expected headache. 

He glanced back at Justinian, who had recovered his hold on the location with only a small leak of Niall's influence that hopefully hadn't done any harm, and was pulling in the power over sanity that he held.  Iloquil and Deja had arrived in the last moment or so, probably drawn by Justinian's lapse in control, and there was a lot of fuss over in that direction.  Alexander ignored it in favor of approaching the balcony to look over.  What he saw just made him want to scream in frustration.

"Fucking really?"

An enormous, black goddamn dragon beat its wings as it shot up towards the balcony, landing with crushing weight that utterly destroyed the railing and a lot of the balcony itself.  Alexander shot backward to safety with a quick movement, but he sighed and shot a nasty glare at Justinian.  "If you ever make another vampire, I'm stabbing it and you."

He didn't think he was ever as happy in his life as when Gareth and Nicolas fucking Santos swung the doors open.

yell at me later for placeholders

Nica had gotten up early, letting her husband sleep in like the lump he was. To be fair, it was early, mostly because she knew there was no way he was going along with anything until it was already in full swing. It was kind of funny; he and her father had never gotten along, but if he knew how alike they were, he might have changed some of his behaviours. At any rate, she was downstairs, and then outside, next door in her silk robe, talking with another brunette in a fuzzy robe. They laughed over cups of tea, and made plans for the day - plans their husbands didn't know about yet - until the distinct cries of a toddler pulled the other woman from Nica's company. She said her goodbyes and darted back home, coming in to smell the very specific scent of her shampoo from upstairs.

"No, the 3-in-1 is fine," she said to herself, imitating Bob, "you don't need to get me something fancy. My ass." She shook her head. She knew he'd been using her shampoo, she knew it! Now she'd just finally caught him in the act. Unfortunately, unless she actually ran up there and flung the door open, she'd never have enough proof, and right now, she didn't have time to get caught up in a shower with him. It was regretful.

By the time he came downstairs, she had breakfast going, and texts were flying on her phone between the neighbors who had been in on this little plan - a barbecue. She was learning names quickly in her group chat - Skye, Shane, Mike, and Chase. She was sure there were others coming, but they weren't in the chat. She'd meet them later. More importantly, Bob would.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" he asked, dropping down at the counter and scanning the stocks on his phone. He made a noise of approval, and then glanced up, taking the coffee she held out to him with a nod of thanks.

"Can't I just be in a good mood?" she asked innocently.

He set his coffee down. "Nica," he began, "I've known you for a long time. A very long time. And I've never seen you happy to set an alarm for anything prior to noon. So spill it."

She pursed her lips. "Welllllll," she said, turning so he couldn't see her face. She finished with the eggs she'd prepared, sliding them onto the plates, and dropped the pan in the sink "to soak". She turned back around.

"Nica," he said, his voice raising in warning.

"So I was thinking."

"Here it comes."

"Well, we're new here, and we don't really know anyone, and the couples next door to either side of us seem so nice...."

"We're having a barbecue aren't we," he said flatly.

"Yes!" She dropped his plate in front of him. "And I have a list of things I need you to pick up, so hurry up and eat."

---

"Stormy, sweetie, that's not - that's not a toy," Andi warned, pointing with the hand that didn't hold a margarita in it. She gestured to her husband with the glass. "Mike, can you?" she asked, waving wildly at the 'can you' part.

"I can't believe she can even pick that up," Skye mused, watching Mike try to bargain for his daughter to let go of a decorative ball that was actually pretty fucking heavy. She gasped as the girl flung it at her father, only for her older brother to come in for a save and gently catch it before Mike got smeared.

"That Witch blood," Andi said, laughing as she shrugged. "They're at that awkward stage where they're both really strong, but too stupid to know their limits." She made a face and tipped her drink back. "Honey?" she asked, shaking the glass at Mike.

While Mike ran interference between his two kids and his wife, their third child had taken to following Bob around. He was currently at the grill, while Jonathan, Nick and Shane stood around in a circle, and each of them criticized his cooking. Apparently it was some masculine rite of passage, but Bob was here for it.

"Yeah, but how long is too long for a burger?" Shane asked.

"It just needs to be warm," Nick offered, sipping his beer. He scanned the backyard until he saw Skye, and smiled to her when he made eye contact.

"Okay, LaCroix, some of us don't want food poisoning," Jonathan snorted.

Bob opened his mouth to say something, and felt a tug at his side. He glanced down.

"Can you pick me up?" the small child asked.

"Who lost a kid?" he called.

"Oh, that's just Dreama. Man, she really likes you," Shane said, arching an eyebrow at the girl.  At Bob's blank expression, he went on. "Yeah, she's uh, Mike and Miranda's youngest. Our kids play all the time."

"Stormy! Quit trying to drown your brother!" Andi screamed.

"Nice bunch," Shane concluded.

"If I pick you up, can you cook for me? I'll show you how," Bob said, crouching down. He held the spatula out to the blonde, who nodded, looking far too serious for her age. "Okay, let's go," he said. He scooped her up, and began instructing her over the grill. Of course, full supervision - Bob wasn't an idiot. "You want to make your mommy a burger? No?! Okay, you wanna make your daddy one? Okay, okay, here, this is how you flip it..."

---

"So, Andi, I heard you guys got taken over by Garden Security?" Chase said, sitting down in a lawn chair next to the blonde. "It's a firm downtown - where Jonathan works," she explained, giving Nicola some exposition. "They had a competing agency, but I guess as of a few days ago, they were bought out."

"Yeah, it's not so bad. Dude gave us a few days to get ready for the merger, but next week I'll be at a new office. I mean, I'm an admin type, so I go wherever and sit in front of a computer, nothing really changes for me except the client list," she shrugged.

"Wait, you're not a hunter?" Nicola asked, confused.

Miranda nearly choked on her drink. "God no," she said, coughing. She accepted a napkin that Chase handed to her. "Sweetie, I had a wild youth. I am done with that life. Even if I miss it a little." She sighed wistfully.

"I thought about quitting," Skye said. "A few times. Especially after Nico was born," she admitted.

"It's not even really about the kids," Andi said. "It's just - Mike would fucking fall apart without me," she said. "Listen, I know it looks like he does everything, but it's because he wants to. Trust me, the dynamic seems really one-sided, I know it does. We both had it pretty rough."

"It does seem kind of one-sided," Nica admitted.

Every woman sitting at the table laughed, and Nica blushed. "Sorry, I don't mean to be unfair."

"You're fine," Andi said. "But I promise, you won't find a better guy to babysit."

"Yeah, Nick's good with kids, but not like Mike is," Skye laughed. "I think Nick is only good with Nicole because she's his."

"We stopped with one. Tyler is a little terror. And lord, when he gets going with Stormy and River? I think about just leaving the planet," Arielle said, shaking her head.

"I think all this talk makes me glad to be in the child free club for right now," Nica said. Chase nodded in accord.

"Oh yeah. Jonathan and I both come from huge families. It's not a race," she said. "Besides, the way Andi's luck goes, she'll probably just end up pregnant again before the year is out," she said, giving her a Look.

"Ooooh no, don't you put that evil on me," Andi hissed. "I'll crush a bottle of tequila a night to make sure that doesn't happen."

Chase put her hand on Andi's shoulder. "Andi, honey, that's exactly how that happens."

~

The women at the table were positively cackling, and Jonathan looked over at them, and then back at the guys. "Do I want to know?" he asked.

Nick, who could hear their conversation, shook his head. "No man, you do not." He paused between bites of his burger. "Dreama, this is excellent. You're a great cook."

"Thank you," she said, positioned on Mike's lap, mustard and ketchup all over her face. She made a grab for his beer, and Mike moved it out of her reach.

"So now that we've mostly sectioned ourselves off by gender, weirdly, is this where we all go try to take something apart in the shed and thump our chests, or?" Shane asked.

Bob cleared his throat. "Well, now that you mention it, I've turned the shed into a woodshop. It's kind of a pet project of mine, since Nica has her hobbies, and - you guys aren't into that sort of thing, are you?" He realized they were all staring at him.

"I've been trying to get a he-shed for years," Nick admitted. "I had one, but Skye saw that she-shed commercial, and that was the beginning and the end of that. I don't even know what she does in there. She won't let me in."

"Yoga," Shane said. "Arielle kicks me out of the living room every day for two hours to do yoga."

"Maybe she hung a punching bag in it," Jonathan suggested.

"Alright man," Mike said. "Let's see this wood shop."

---

"And then Mike said that he's always wanted to learn how to do woordworking so now he and Jonathan are going to come by next week and I'm going to show them some of the beginner's projects I made back in the day - "

"Back in the day? Honey that was ages ago, that's hardly fair," Nica said, pausing from brushing her teeth.

Bob stuck his head around the corner and glared at her in the mirror. "I can still teach them," he said defensively. "And anyway, apparently they've been looking for something to do in their off time that isn't go to the range. I guess they're spending way too much on ammo." He laughed.

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time," she said after she rinsed her mouth. "And to think, you were so against this only a few hours ago." She turned as she heard a noise, and saw her husband had jumped into the bed. "Apparently you had a really good time."

"I did," he admitted. He held his arm out to her, and she turned out the bathroom light and came over to him, rolling into the bed and directly into his grasp. "You know what would make it even better?" he asked, leaning down and burying his face in her neck, giving her a dozen little kisses.

She giggled, trying to squirm away. "What? Let me guess, you want me to scratch your back?"

"Mm-hmm," he said into her hair.

"Alright, you big bear, roll over," she instructed. He did as he was told, and as she began to slowly run her nails across his back, she smiled. "I'm glad you had a good time. We have good neighbors. Most of them are guild hunters! This was a good find, honey. We can probably stay here for a while."

"Mm-hmm," he said, face in his pillow.

"Are you falling asleep?" she asked, poking him in the side.

He pretended to snore.

"Bob! You are so abnormal!"

He sat up suddenly, grabbing her before she could react, and yanked her down, pinning her with his upper body. "Nica, I'm the pinnacle of normal. And so are you. We even got a picket fence," he said, as though that somehow proved it. "Now, let's see how long it takes for us to mess it all up."

Most of the time, criminal activity happened and he was sent to investigate it.  That was how it was supposed to work, and up until this particular point in Jake's life, it had followed that pattern.  He was on his way home from a few drinks with some people from the station and thinking maybe he should have gone along with the taxi idea because he did not feel like the walk once he was a few blocks in, no matter how nice the night was.  He was just thinking how the last thing he wanted was to admit that to Charlotte when he took notice of a young woman walking quickly on the sidewalk across the street, her body language selling the anxiety he was feeling from her, which wasn't necessarily fear, but she was definitely on edge.  His own state of partial drunkenness didn't help in clarifying that, but other than catching sight of her and being curious, he had no reason to be overly concerned immediately.

As she passed a streetlight, her shadow huge as it followed her down the sidewalk and drawing his eyes once again, Jacob realized there was a larger form behind her, coming up fast.  There would have been no time to call out a warning to her even if he'd thought that it would have done anything.  The man shape lunged and grabbed her right as she was passing the alley, dragging her into it, and her scream was almost muffled by the hand closing over her mouth just a little too late.

"Shit," he hissed, knowing already that there was no way he could walk away from that, but also pretty damn sure either the girl or her attacker (or both) had seen him staring.  That would make his attempt to help harder if he was expected, but it wouldn't be the first shitty situation he walked into.  He was just less prepared for this one, no big deal.

He put in a quick call, identified himself and requested aid even as he crossed the street, and had the phone pocketed and his gun drawn before he reached the alley itself.  There were sounds within it, and he cringed at the light that he had to pass through before the dark alley, making him far more visible to anyone inside than they were to him - that was a problem.

He saw the woman first, her attention on the man who seemed to have been the same who grabbed her, as he passed a small packet of something to her, and the drinks must have fogged him up, because Jacob actually took a few seconds to figure out what the hell was going on with that.  Getting cracked in the side of the head by a guy he hadn't seen as his eyes adjusted from the streetlight to the darkness of the alley was his own damn fault for being so slow to see the obvious trap, and he twsted with the gun in time for another man he hadn't seen to slam his forearm with a...bat?  He didn't drop the gun, but he wasn't bringing it back up again in time to avoid another hit, and then he did drop it.  It was then that he realized that the woman hadn't ever felt afraid to him, and now she just seemed...excited.  There was an anxious thrill going through the group at large with the start of the violence, and Jake shuddered, trying to blink back the emotions that were not his and clear his head of the drink he'd had.  The pain helped with that, but getting hit in the head did not.

The woman was gone, having disappeared down the back end of the alley with her prize, desperation washing over him and then fading out.  A bribe, then.  He was so fucking stupid, she'd never been afraid, why hadn't he realized that she wasn't afraid?  He'd read her anxiety instead, but she'd just been on the edge of a withdrawal, so of course she was fucking anxious.

"McLaren, right?" the first man asked, watching without a move to join in as Jake threw his weight into a shoulder check against the guy with the bat, knocking him off balance just to take another shot from the first.  He hit the brick of the building wall, bleeding either from the impact with the wall or the punch (maybe both), and zeroed in on the knife that had just been drawn.  The Talker kept going while the Bat righted himself and the Knife looked for an opening.  "Our boss doesn't like you fucking around with his business, so consider yourself off the case.  Your pretty partner is next if she doesn't take the hint."

The Knife rushed him at about the same time the Bat swung his weapon, but Jake turned his body into the bat swing in an attempt to catch it in a place that wouldn't instantly debilitate him on impact, and put his focus more onto the guy who was trying to stab him.  He figured that being hospitalized or killed would be equally good for taking him 'off the case', and the latter was probably preferred, since this would look like a mugging gone wrong, even with his phone call.  He just had to hope the cavalry showed up quickly.

The Knife moved so damn fast that he wasn't sure how he avoided getting skewered, but the near miss wasn't actually a total miss - he'd need some stitches, but it didn't feel like it had hit anything important, even if it hurt like hell.  It sure as hell wasn't the gut wound that he'd nearly taken, though there would be more attempts in his very immediate future if he didn't figure something out, and the Bat was trying to knock him down or hold him still, whichever worked first.  Neither was in his best interests.

He was far too distracted by the adrenaline of his own struggle and the various excited sort of emotions running around the crowd in the alley to take notice of another feeling nearby, and his soon-to-be rescuers brought their own swirling emotions, particularly in the fact that the first guy to hit the scene, literally smashing into the Bat and practically smearing him into the brick wall, was probably even more pumped about the fight than Jake's attackers had been. 

There was another presence who was more calm and collected, which didn't draw a lot of attention to himself and actually seemed a little reluctant, but there were a few quick, sharp emotional spikes to reveal his presence before he actually appeared on scene.  He was less brutal in taking on the Knife, but only because Jake was comparing his performance to the smaller man who had struck first and with far more violence, not to mention the fact that he'd taken the bat up and turned on the Talker before the asshole really even had a chance to decide if he should run or not.  Spoiler alert: he should have run. because once that guy had that bat in hand and started swinging, the screams stopped before the sounds of impact did.  The surprise, fear and pain from all three of them had been instantaneous, but also cut short very suddenly as they were dropped.  Jake was honestly okay with that.

It happened really fast, which wasn't surprising because most fights happened fast and even Jake had only been struggling with the two armed attackers for about a minute, but these two were fast and effective. 

"Really?  I was expecting an actual fucking fight out of these shitbags," the smaller guy complained, and Jake groaned, pulling himself up off of the dirty alley ground to at least sit propped against the dirty brick wall. 

"Shit, well at least he's still alive," the bigger guy said, coming to kneel in front of him while his companion stayed where he was, watching warily with the bloodied bat rested on his shoulder.  "You okay, man?  I'll call an ambulance.  I'm Shaun, what's your name?"

He didn't know who this guy was, nor did he have any way of knowing what Shaun did for a living, but the guy was far too calm about the whole thing not to be something, and asking his name in case he passed out was pretty basic training.  "Jake McLaren, I'm a cop.  Someone's on the way."

"Shaun, we gotta jet.  We're gonna get fucking arrested, just leave him," Shaun's friend hissed, which made Jake actually blink through the blood on one eye to try getting a better look at him.  That one was a lot of emotions, most of them negative and all of them strong, enough that Jake sucked in a sharp breath, working to back off enough and focus more on Shaun.  He did not have the ability to deal with that on top of the rest of this.

He was trying to push himself up the wall to get to his feet, some instinct that he'd always had not to stay down, even if it was made harder by pressing on his side for the bleeding there.  He wasn't sure where on his face was bleeding, but he could feel the heat there, and the way Shaun looked at him definitely suggested that he looked about as bad as he felt.  Something about the other guy just made him feel like he really preferred to be standing, like any show of weakness that he could help might make him prey.  "Might wanna take it easy there, Ferrari, you're bleeding pretty bad."

"Nothing I haven't done before, I'll be fine.  You two just go, I appreciate the help and I'd rather not thank you by having you hang around for a thousand questions, okay?" he managed, getting the thought out pretty clear, even if his voice wasn't as steady as he'd have liked.  Shaun regarded him critically, like he was wondering if he was going to go down any second, but the other guy was more than happy to do as he'd been told.  Jake got the impression he didn't do what he was told often.

"Alright, well, it's been fun, always glad to help kick some ass.  Try not to die before your friends get here," he said, mood apparently improved after the burst of violence and with the promise of not having to talk to the cops, and as confusing as his internal emotional state was feeling currently, at least the good humor was a help.  "Let's go, dude."

"Listen, just...yell if something else happens before they get here," Shaun said, to an eyeroll from his younger companion, but Jake just nodded a few times, then leaned his head back against the wall that he was very obviously using to support himself.  Then, he waved them off, and just in time; they'd barely left the alley, the bat going with its new owner, when he heard sirens approaching. 

It was only when the red and blue lights were lighting up the whole street that he even considered relaxing, not that the idea lasted all that long.  The adrenaline that came with people hitting that particular scene - a cop beaten and bloodied with three thugs down stirred up some serious emotional responses - would at least keep him going awhile longer.  He was already surrounded by people by the time Charlotte hit the scene, Simon barely a step behind her and both of them obviously more sober than he'd been a few minutes ago.  He saw them scan the crowd briefly through a break in the bodies blocking his line of sight, both of them taking in the thugs that were being arrested even as they were loaded onto gurneys for a hospital trip and the blood in the alley that was lit up and being photographed.  Jake had argued to wait a few minutes longer while his attackers were taken care of, but most of that was because he really was in better shape than they were.  He hadn't expected Charlote to appear, but it made sense.  He'd have been pissed if something happened to her and he wasn't notified.

"Jake!  What the fuck happened?" she shouted, zeroing in on him.  "I only left you like ten minutes ago!"

"You do look like shit," Simon added appreciatively in support of Charlotte's outrage at having left him in mostly-new condition so recently, albeit a little drunk.

"Don't worry, I'm fine.  Just a few scratches," he said dismissively, and the EMT directly looking him over snorted loudly.

"That is not true, for the record.  You're going to need x-rays on your arm and ribs, pretty sure there are fractures in there, if not breaks.  Stitches on the headwounds, and while I do think you'd be in worse shape if the knife wound hit anything major, that still needs actual medical attention.  You're getting an ambulance ride, Detective."

Theroux whistled and Jake sighed, eyes dipping shut.  He was so damn tired, even if the burn of Char's fury tore at the drowsiness he felt.  He didn't have the energy for anymore violence or anger, but she very much did, and it was bleeding all over him.  "It was a set-up, don't be alone tonight, Char.  I'll tell you everything tomorrow."

"Fuck that, I'm coming with you," she asserted, already moving as the EMTs made to get him into the back of the ambulance and Simon nodded. 

"Give me a call if you need anything, I can drop by your place and grab it.  Either of you," he said, stepping back to give them all space and effectively denying Jake the one person in the area that wasn't dumping emotional static all over him.  If his head and the rest of him weren't already throbbing, he'd have thought that he had a migraine coming on just from input, but why not both?

It seemed like a 'both' kind of night, but hey, he hadn't been on the receiving end of Benji's bat, so he'd count it as a win.

placeholder because it's super late

If one would have asked Jake McLaren what he thought about his partner, he'd have tried to answer politely at first, saying that she was a little rough around the edges. He wouldn't be wrong, either. Ever since the incident that spring, though, Jake had developed a little bit of a deeper understanding about her. He had transferred to homicide because he'd previously worked SVU in Seattle, and for an empath, that was not an ideal environment. He knew that Charlotte had worked SVU with the city before she'd come to Ramsa; she'd told him one night that it had been because of a promotion offer, but he felt that she wasn't being totally honest.

He would have been right. Charlotte may have indeed been rough around the edges, and her claws were sharp. It was true sometimes she didn't know when not to use them, either, but luckily Jake had usually been there to temper down whatever fire she'd stoked up with her mouth - or sometimes, with a mean right hook, or well-placed kick. On more than one occasion he'd had to literally drag her from the interrogation room. She ran either hot or cold, and there was no in between for her.

The truth was, Charlotte had a rough life prior to being dumped unceremoniously out of the system when she turned 18. She'd stolen/saved enough money to get an absolutely tiny apartment and had gone to the academy as soon as she could. Her juvenile record almost prevented her admission entirely, but there were some extreme circumstances that had ended up working in her favor, however damaging they'd been to her psyche. She acted like nothing bothered her, and rarely spoke of hardships she'd experienced. In fact, Jake noticed she didn't really talk about herself at all.

It wasn't until he was approaching their office when Simon grabbed him by the arm, hooking him and turning him in the other direction. "Walk with me," was all the blonde had said, his face uncharacteristically grim.

"Is everything okay?" Jake asked. He couldn't read Simon at all; it was simply the nature of Anubi, though. He followed Simon into the office that he shared with Laurel, and dropped down in a chair. He accepted a cup of coffee Simon poured for him, and watched as the man sat across from him, a pensive look on his face. "Well? Spit it out," Jake said, making a motion with his hand.

"Listen," Simon said. "She's in there on the phone right now, and you don't want to go in there. You, specifically, don't want to go in there," he added.

Jake stared at him for a second, and then nodded. "Ah, I get it," he said. "Thanks for the save."

"Anytime," Simon replied.

"Can I ask who she's on the phone with? I'd like to steel myself for the next day or so, if I need. You know how she can be. All or nothing."

Simon chuckled, kicking his feet up on the desk. "Yeah, that's Char for sure," he agreed. "She's uh, on the phone with someone from her previous job. Court case is all over the place right now."

"Oh, no," Jake said, immediately understanding more of the situation. "Is her vic having a breakdown or something?"

"Yeah," Simon said, shaking his head. "The defense ripped her up today in court. It was bad. Charlotte didn't even get to testify; they called it for the day. I don't know who she's on the phone with, exactly, but it has something to do with the case." He paused. "You're a good guy, McLaren. I like you. I don't know about Charlotte, but you're good in our book," he said, gesturing to Laurel's empty seat. "We'll help you however we can. She can be... hard to deal with, sometimes. She had it pretty bad, growing up. I know she doesn't act like things get to her, but trust me, they get to her. Probably worse than some of us."

"She doesn't really talk about herself," Jake said, shrugging.

"It's not my story to tell, but maybe someday she'll trust you enough to tell you."

"I wish she'd trust me now, " Jake admitted, setting the cup down as he leaned forward in the chair. "It's hard working with someone that feels like cold steel all the time. It's not like how you are, just a blank, which is to be expected. That girl is..." he trailed off. "She holds a lot in."

Simon nodded. "She does. Just give it time, man. She'll come around." He looked away from Jake and up at the open door, where he saw her leave her office quickly. "Office is open," he said, nodding to Jake. "Want my advice?"

Jake stood. "Yeah, of course," he said. He appreciated anything Simon could give him.

"Tread lightly for right now. Not a warning, just advice. She's usually volatile after a call like that."

"I understand," Jake said, nodding. "Thanks for the tip. And the coffee." He gave a wave to Theroux, then walked out of the office and down the hall to his own. He saw Charlotte in the hall, and raised a hand. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied gruffly. "I'm uh, I'm gonna go." She rubbed her face; fortunately for her, the hallway had a few lights out, and so she was confident that Jake couldn't see her eyes were red and watery.

"Sure," Jake said, trying not to be taken aback by the things he felt from her. It was heavy sadness, but she was trying to hold it all in, and it nearly gave him a stomach ache. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said. "Tomorrow." She left, squeezing his arm as she passed him, which was completely out of character for her. Enough so, that Jake stood in the hallway long enough for her to leave, and then turned around to follow her.

She'd gotten ahead of him quite a bit; she had to have been running, he assumed, and he would have been right. She'd practically sprinted to her car, but by the time she got there, she was crying so hard that she couldn't get her keys out of her bag. She dropped the purse on the trunk of her sedan, sobbing as she tried to comb through it, but she was so emotional that she wasn't getting anything done.

"Charlotte?" Jake said, coming up behind her. Without thinking, he put a hand on her shoulder, trying to guard himself as much as he could. He expected her to swipe at him like a big cat, but instead, she turned, wordlessly, and planted her face into her chest. She was wailing now, and it was more of an emotional outpouring than he'd seen in a while - bigger than her whatever a few months prior, even bigger than some family reactions they'd had lately when they'd gone to deliver bad news.

"It's okay, it's okay," he said, holding her tightly. He could feel her squeezing him as hard as she could, and god damn he'd forgotten shifters had such a grip. "Ribs," he grunted. She relaxed her hold by a little, and it was enough where he didn't think he would sustain permanent damage. Bruises, though, he'd definitely have a few of those. "What happened, Char? Can you tell me?"

She pulled away from him finally, wiping ungracefully at her face. She put a hand on her hip as she did so, her other hand going between her face and gesturing as she spoke. "One of my girls just fucking offed herself tonight," she said, shaking her head. She almost couldn't believe it as she said it, but no, the mother calling and crying to Charlotte about the trial and what the girl had gone home and done - it was too much for her and she broke down. "Two years she waited for this trial, and the guy's defense lawyer just... it was bad, Jake, you should have seen it." She took a shaky breath.

"She just... just went home, told her mom she was going to take a bath, and then - her mom called me when she found her, she didn't even call 911, called me. I had to call it in." She looked up at him. "She was just a kid, man. She was my age when - " she paused, and then looked away. "She was just a fucking kid."

Jake nodded. "I won't stand here and give you platitudes on the why of all this; we worked the same jobs before we met." He reached out and touched her shoulder, and she lowered her head, placing a hand on his in quiet gratitude for his lack of cliche-riddled speeches. He'd never been one for them, and she appreciated it.

"I know, I know, in time I won't feel this way," she said. "There will be another murder tomorrow, another notification, another case. I just - fuck man. Not tonight, okay? Not tonight."

Jake nodded. "Do you want me to call someone for you, to come get you?"

"No, I'll be okay. If I can find my keys," she said, laughing a little.

"Well, that's what you get for having a bag of holding," Jake joked, brushing some of her hair out of her face. "Come on, let's dig them out. I'll wait until you're good before I go."

She seemed to accept this, and went back to searching for them, now that she could see more clearly. "Bag of holding," she repeated as she secured her fingers around the key fob and pulled it out. She looked over at him. "Are you a secret D&D nerd?" she asked. When he shrugged, she smiled. "Jake McLaren, you are. Let me guess, Paladin?" she teased.

"Cleric, actually," he informed her. "It's not much, but it's honest work."

"Barbarian," she said, picking her purse up.

"I wouldn't have assumed anything else," he said smoothly. When she unlocked the car, he opened her door for her. "You sure you'll be okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She paused. "Thanks, though. Of all the people to follow me out here, I'm glad it was you. Just - don't tell anyone you saw me cry, okay? There's a pool. I want to wait until it hits a thousand before I cry in a mirror and record it."

The comment was so unexpected that he let out a loud laugh. "I won't. Cross my heart," he added with a smile. "Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, pulling the door shut.

Every spring, Charlotte put in for leave. It was clockwork since she'd been with the PD; for two months, she completely vanished. Everyone speculated she went up to some cabin in the Adirondacks and lived like a forest witch while the snow melted, but nobody really knew for sure. What they did know was that she never took leave any other time, for any reason - unless it was medical. There had been that time that she'd been thrown out a window and she got a week off, but recovery was quick for shapeshifters, and so she'd just enjoyed the free time off.

"Wait, you're going to be gone for two whole months?" Jake said, following after Charlotte. He'd just noticed the big line through her desk calendar. Apparently he was the last person to know that she was taking her annual sabbatical - but then again, they'd only been partners for about five months, so it wasn't that surprising.

"Yeah," she said, and the way she walked away from him, continuing to sort files at the tall cabinet, showed how little she cared about his surprise.

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked, setting his coffee down and folding his arms.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder. "Are you serious?" she asked. "I do this every year. I have since I've been here. Why are you acting like you didn't know?"

"Because I didn't know! Excuse me for not being aware of your tradition, I've only been here a few months, Silver," he said hotly, careful not to raise his voice. This woman was fucking with his blood pressure. "We have two murder cases that are getting more sordid by the day, and you're just leaving?" he asked, holding his hands up.

"Yep," she said, not looking back. "You'll be fine. Just piggyback with Rivers and Wakefield," she said.

"It's Volos now, not Wakefield," he reminded her.

"Right, whatever, listen - I don't care what you do while I'm gone dude, just don't fuck my desk up, okay?" She shut the filing cabinet drawer and turned around, giving him a Look. "Don't act so heartbroken, McDreamy. I'm sure Theroux will let you spoon him now that I won't be here for you to suck all the warmth off of," she sad, slapping at his arm on her way out of the room.

Jake turned and went after her. "But, Charlotte - "

She turned so fast that he ran into her, and backed up a few steps. "Listen, Jake, I'm leaving. You'll be fine. You came from LA for Christ's sake, this should be small potatos for you! I get that you're still the FNG here, but they'll stop hazing you eventually. By the way, I heard about the Cheez-Whiz thing, that was a pretty good retaliation," she said. "But I digress. Look, Theroux will know how to get ahold of me if you absolutely need to call me, but otherwise...." she sucked her teeth and held her hands up as she shrugged. "You're on your own. It'll be fine, dude. Blue skies."

He opened his mouth, but she held a hand up. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You lost. Go. Shoo shoo shoo," she said, fluttering her hands at him until he turned, defeated, and walked back down to the bull pen. "Christ," she muttered to herself. "You'd think he had some serious attachment issues or something."

She woke up early the next day, bags already packed, and got on the road. She'd been on schedule for the last six or so years, now, thankfully. Getting through the academy had been easy enough; she'd just gotten in on a class that started right at the beginning of summer, and systematically saved her leave up so that she could do exactly what she'd been doing now. It had been rough before then, but now, as she drove, listening to static-laden country music and enjoying the fresh air of the mountains, she felt good.

Three weeks had passed without a peep. Simon texted her every few days to let her know whether or not the precinct was burning down to the ground, and unfortunately it wasn't, so she supposed she had work to look forward to when this was over. She had been squirreling things away in her cabin at every opportunity, and so she had enough supplies so that she wouldn't really need to leave for anything. She felt like a doomsday prepper, but then again - it pretty much was doomsday as far as she was concerned.

One evening, she'd settled down on the couch for some time with her audiobook - Birdbox (it felt fitting since she isolated herself) - when she heard the distinct sound of tires on gravel. She sat bolt upright on the couch, throwing her iPad into the chair opposite her, thankful on the backside that it hadn't bounced off and broken. But right then, she wasn't worried about it so much as who the fuck was coming down the driveway. Oh no. Oh no. She darted to the window, looking out at the car as it came up the driveway. Did she recognize it? YES.

She grabbed her phone, and dialed his number. "Jake, WHAT are you doing here?" she demanded, rushing up to the door and locking it.

"Char - hey, I was worried about you,  I got a weird feeling and I just - " he broke off suddenly, having finally gotten within a good enough range of her to really get that weird feeling. Except, it wasn't weird at all. It was -

She pressed her hand against the door, fingers curling against the wood. Christ but she could smell the aftershave he had on from where she was in the house. It sent a bolt up her spine and she grit her teeth. No, she told herself. Friend, not food, Charlotte. "Jake, bud, you gotta turn your car around and get the fuck out of here," she told him, her voice weak. She pressed her forehead to the door, thumping it softly. Why, why? Why could this motherfucker just not listen? "I need you to get back in your fucking car," she warned him.

"How'd you know I wasn't in my car?" he asked, his voice strange - for an empath, he was holding it in pretty well, but that didn't mean he wasn't feeling some type of way.

"Because I can fucking smell you, Jake. You need to go."

"Let me in," he said. "Charlotte, something isn't right." His voice wasn't at the phone, it was at the fucking door. Charlotte jumped back from it like it had burned her. Every muscle in her body ached; she wanted to tear right through the door and into him.

Friends, not food, friends, not food, she repeated to herself over and over again in her head. She was so frustrated she wanted to cry; WHY would he come here? If he'd only known how much this would have messed with her, surely he wouldn't have done it. She felt a brief flicker of paranoia as she wondered if he did know. The thought was quickly dismissed - there was no way. If he was that much of a piece of shit, Rivers would have sussed it out of him already, wouldn't he have? Or Britton - for fuck sake, Britton was a vampire, he could read minds. They'd tell her if her partner was a psycho, right? Right?!

She could hear him outside of the door, could hear his heart palpitations as he struggled to work against the fucking tractor beam she inadvertently had him in. Charlotte had no idea about his abilities, because they just hadn't shared their shit like that yet. He knew she was a shapeshifter, and maybe he knew she was a cougar, but clearly he didn't know anything about cougars, or else he'd never have come. She could smell him, too, god, could she smell him. He smelled of salt and musk; sweat from his nerves mixing with the aftershave that she'd caught in the air earlier. It made her grit her teeth so hard she thought she'd crack one.

"Is now a bad time to tell you that I have this - this thing, where I can feel what other people are feeling?" he asked, his voice apprehensive.

Charlotte closed her eyes, tipping her head back. "Of course," she said, holding her arms out. "Of course he does." She looked at the door. "Jake, bud - that's great and all and thanks for sharing your feelings or whatever but I NEED YOU TO GET BACK IN YOUR CAR AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" That last part she roared.

She heard a thump against the door. "I can't," he admitted. He'd put his forehead against the door in a moment of exasperation - funny.

"What do you MEAN you can't?" she screamed. She wanted to kick the door as hard as she could and blow the bitch off its hinges, sending Jake down the front steps. She didn't, though, pacing wildly. She hadn't even shifted and already she looked the part of her big cat alter-ego, eyes wild as she moved back and forth. The door was going to become her goal - no, the thing on the other side of the door was her goal. The door was just the obstacle in the way.

"I am caught in the gravity of you," he said, and it was so matter-of-fact that she could tell that he was trying to keep himself aware of what was happening so that he didn't just get rolled by the emotions. It would have been poetic if it hadn't been so terrifying to hear, because she didn't want him.

Instead of going to the door, she sank down behind her couch, covering her face. "I need you to go!" she yelled again. She didn't want him. Could he feel that? Could he feel her fear at what would happen if one of them opened the door? She was prisoner to her nature, it was why she went so far away for so long. As a girl, she had fallen victim to it, and she never wanted to feel so powerless again. "I don't want you," she said, though this time she didn't yell it so much as just say it aloud, so that she could establish how she felt before anything continued, so that she could have her "no".

That seemed to snap him out of it. Instead of feeling the need, he felt a sudden wash of fear, and of powerlessness. He broke away from the door immediately, skipping backwards a few feet. "Oh, god," he said to himself, scrubbing at his eyes. What the fuck was happening? He practically ran back to his car, and took off before he got stuck in that pull again.

A few moments later, Charlotte's phone rang. She was still behind the couch, crying, and, too lazy to stand, crawled on her hands and knees to where she'd dropped it earlier. "What!" she sobbed, seeing Jake's number on the screen.

"I'm so sorry, Charlotte, I am so sorry," he said, talking a million miles a minute. "When you were at work you were acting secretive and my ability lets me feel what others feel and I felt like you were maybe hiding something and I got the address from your desk because I thought you'd be in trouble and I fucking had no idea, I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot," he said, not giving her room to say anything.

"Yes, you're a fucking idiot!" she cried, slapping the floor next to the phone. "Why wouldn't you just listen to me?!"

"Because I'm STUPID!" he shouted back, still buzzing after having all of those emotions playing pinball with his entire being.

She was quiet for a moment, and then he heard a little laugh. "Yeah, you are," she said, sniffing.

"I'll see you in two months, Silver," he said. "I'm sorry."

"I'll see you," she said, and pressed the button to disconnect the call. Sighing, she laid down on the floor next to the phone. The wood felt cool against her body, which had been burning up from the frenzy she'd been worked into. She'd practically been drooling on herself. She closed her eyes. If there was a cure for this shapeshifter thing, she would be the first person in line.

"Here's to a quiet two months," she said aloud, still laying on the floor.

Vik stood outside, slowly smoking a cigarette. He usually sucked them down, but he'd literally locked Tommy in a closet upstairs in Dahlia's room, and he wanted to savor his freedom while it lasted. No doubt she'd see him and go looking for the other one immediately. Fucking buzzkill. Honestly, he was working up to just taking over the single body instead of splitting off of him. It had worked a few times, but Tommy was getting stronger in his fight, and Vik was often too tired to try and fight for the damn remote. He didn't understand what she saw in that anxious mess, honestly. And speak of the devil - he spotted her coming down the block, talking to another blonde who looked like she was hassling her. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the body language was clear enough.

"Listen, Grancourt's not your guy, your friend is right," Dahlia snapped, coming into earshot finally.

"Look, I'm fucking running out of options. I know about that ring of yours - "

"SHHH!" Dahlia exploded, waving her hands. She grabbed the other blonde and jerked her closer, practically dragging her to the front of the hotel. "Listen, that's not something that we just announce, okay? And anyways, this ring comes with a problem set of its own, so trust me when I say, you need to go back over some of your other options."

"Is there a problem, Dahl?" Vik asked. He didn't make any move toward them, but he did shift his position to be more upright instead of slouched against the wall.

"No, there's no problem, because my new friend here was just going," Dahlia said, now pushing the blonde away from the hotel.

"Wha- hey!" Aurora snapped. "First of all, quit fucking jerking me around - literally - or I'm going to break your fucking hand," she said.

"Ohhhhhhh," Vik said, making a face. He pushed off the wall now.

"Not now, Vik," Dahlia snapped. "Listen, Aurora, I can't help you. And neither can they. You already talked to Eli, you know the gig. My dad isn't going to give you a better offer; it's going to be worse. You think Aristide is bad? You gotta find another way, man. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but I promise, there's nothing in here for you," she said, her voice almost desperate. She stood between Aurora and the door of the hotel purposely, and Vik got the general gist of the fact that she was trying to stop her from going on. She hoped he'd listen when she told him to chill, or else this was going to end up bloody - for all of them.

"Yeah?" Aurora said. She had a look in her eyes, one that they both clearly saw meant she wasn't going to listen. "Let me be the judge of that."

Dahlia looked like she wanted to say something else, but she held her hands up. "You know what? Go right the fuck ahead. I'll even tell you where to go. Lounge, back left table. Oh, and tell my dad I'll be late," she spat.

Aurora stared at her for a second, and then went inside, leaving Dahlia outside with Vik. Dahlia let out a loud, frustrated noise, and then held her hand out to Vik.

"Gimmie it," she said.

"Ask nicely," he said, a fresh cigarette now in his mouth.

"Vik," she snapped.

"Dahlia," he said back, mocking her tone. "Listen, you want one, you gotta ask politely. You can push Tommy around, but you're not doin' to me, got me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Can I please have one?" She made a noise when he finally went for his pack. "Some time today, before my dad comes out," she said, rushing him along. She lit the cigarette and went to the other side of him, trying to make herself less visible. After a few drags, she just shook her head, muttering to herself.

"You need me to go inside and drag her ass back out?" Vik offered. He could see she was still clearly bothered.

"No, no," Dahlia said, waving a hand. "She'll figure it out. I just - like, I'm happy that I've got some mojo keeping me alive, but man, the trade off is fucking terrible."

"You still seeing shit?"

She nodded. "Dad said he can help manage it, but he said that there's always a price, all stern and shit. He's still pretty mad I did it, but, no undoing it now," she shrugged.

"You ever realize you can just take the ring off?" Vik said, giving her a Look.

"Yeah, sure, and then get shot in the face, or poisoned, or in a car wreck, or whatever else happens." She took a final drag off of her cigarette, then flicked it out into the street. "No thanks, man. Dying is for losers."

Vik tossed his cigarette and followed her in. On one hand, he was enjoying his 'me' time, but on the other hand, he wanted to be close when she found Tommy's unconscious ass so he could jump back into him before she could start swinging on him.