Night's Omen

She snarled softly, though a part of her still felt a guilty pang. Whether it was routine or not, Mars had been the cause of this incident, and had it not been for her recklessness, both she and Darren (but especially Darren) would've made it home in one piece, unscathed and unscarred.

The Corvette ran smoothly till they exited the highway and maneuvered through the city streets of upscale Greenwich, passing the Whole Foods market and local wine and cheese bar before passing into the parking garage of their apartment complex.

With a weary 'click', the door to their apartment, furnished mostly in vintage pieces, artful and simple designs, and the occasional painting, swung open and Chase was greeted by a light growl and a pur. Dante had lept off his sleeping pad situated by the doorway between the foyer and the kitchen, and greeted the girl with a gentle pur. Upon seeing Darren, Dante turned his back and strolled off without a word.

"He loves you, I swear it," she laughed, leaving the keys on the kitchen island and heading to their shared bedroom, removing her velvet blazer as she walked in. She couldn't wait to get out of the clothes and into the comfort of her sheer cami and panties. Besides, Darren liked it almost as much as she did when she stalked around the place in her just her underwear. It just FELT better, short of being stark naked.

As she walked towards the bedroom, her voiced trailed down the hallway, "The bread pudding and cupcakes are in the fridge..."

Living in Greenwich was something interesting, at least for him.  His family had some money, but not nearly enough to pay for an apartment for him there, and he wouldn't ask it of them.  Of course, his parents also thought it very important for him to pay for his own things since he was on his own, but even they couldn't argue with the generosity of the Lang family regarding their daughter and her boyfriend.  And their apartment really was gorgeous, so all around, nobody was complaining.

Except the cat.

Dante, as much as Mars loved him, seemed to hate Darren.  He didn't understand why the cat felt that way, but he had two theories.  Either Dante didn't like him because he was a feline shifter and smelled like cat himself, or he was jealous of the attention he wasn't getting when Mars was spending time with Darren.  Or, maybe it was both, who knew?  

"Well, maybe someday he'll realize who usually feeds him," Darren remarked lightly about the cat, not even trying to reach down and pet it.  He'd only get bitten or ignored.  

Unlike Mars, who had gone to the bedroom to strip down to something comfortable immediately, Darren went for the kitchen.  He did, at least, pull the somewhat bloodied shirt off and just drop it right in the trash, but that was as far as he got in cleaning up before peeking into the fridge for one of those cupcakes.  He'd need a shower and then probably attack the shrimp afterwards.

Having already taken a shower as soon as she had gotten home with the goodies a few hours earlier, Chase had left her sweater and dark denim slung over the seat in front of their dresser. Examining herself in the mirror while she stood in front of it, she frowned slightly at the dried blood on her bandaged left hand, and peeled it off gingerly.

The wound beneath hadn't been terribly deep, but it seemed to have scabbed over nicely in the past few hours, much to Mars's relief. She didn't really need Darren fretting over an unhealed wound because really, he worried about her enough. She dotted some ointment on it - unnecessary for the healing, really, but vital for escaping it unscarred - and wrapped it up in a fresh layer of bandages.

Slipping into a pink satin camisole and silk panties, she was about to head over to the kitchen before she thought twice and pulled on a pair of faded, flannel pajama pants. They had actually been Darren's before she had snagged them, but he had only laughed and didn't seem to mind it in the least. Besides, she had gotten him new pairs ages ago, and he had worn this pair in rather nicely. Too nicely to just toss, anyway.

Sauntering out into the kitchen, she scooped up Dante along the way and cradled him, knowing that Darren would mutter something about the feline being 'unsanitary', but Mars knew better than that.

"Besides, you're the cleanest cuddly-wuddly kitty in the world," she cooed, smooching Dante. He licked her nose appreciatively, evoking a giggle from her, and she set him down to wander about the brightly-lit kitchen. Settling on the kitchen island, she observed Darren's rummaging as she rinsed her hands, dried them, and peered over the man's muscled shoulders.

"Behind the skim milk," she offered helpfully, with a laugh. Removing the melon liquor - which she had thankfully saved before exiting - from its bag, she walked over to the cabinets to retrieve two martini glasses. Ahh, domesticity.

He had to roll his eyes at her talking to Dante like that, since the cat surely loved the attention, and didn't deserve the compliment.  That cat got into any mess he could manage around the house, and made plenty that he didn't get all over himself.  Sanitary wasn't a word Darren would use to describe Dante.  Ever.

"Ah, thank you," he said happily as he moved the skim milk to find his prize.  He pulled the whole box out, just in case Mars wanted one, and had to shoo Dante away from the counter in the process.  Fortunately, he was wearing shoes still and was safe from little feline teeth.  Dante was surprisingly vicious in the face of the much bigger feline he lived with.  Darren could deal with it, though.  Mars made it worth it, and it made him smirk every time he saw her wearing those flannel pants she'd swiped from him.  He didn't understand why she liked it so much, but seeing her in any of his clothes was kind of...cute.  It also reminded him of just how tiny she was, though.  He both liked that and hated it, all things considered.

With the cupcakes on the island, he popped the box opened and made an appreciative sound of approval.  "Well done, Mars.  They look amazing."  Not that she'd made them or anything, but he approved of her taste.

"Mmhrhgh," she muttered something in agreement; it was probably 'mmhm', but already the chocolate butternut frosting had nearly glued her tongue and the roof of her mouth together, and she swallowed the rich bite before digging deeper into the sprinkle and candy-covered confection, not even bothering to notice the dab of frosting that had found its way to the tip of her nose. It rested there in all its chocolaty glory, with the consumer blissfully ignorant of its rather cute presence.

"Yea, I figured half chocolate, three vanilla, and three strawberry made an even dozen. You know how I annihilate these things," she slid smoothly off the stool then and sauntered to the fridge again, licking her fingers and leaving the half-eaten cupcake on the counter for now.

Retrieving the cardboard boxful of the leftover shrimp scampi, she quickly assembled a sauteeing pan and let the contents of the leftovers warm on the stove with a quick flick of her wrist, turning on the electric stove.

"Shower now or later?" the aromas of the garlic-butter sauce quickly filled the kitchen, and Mars gave the pan a quick stir.

Alright, so even if he dug into his own little cake, that bit of frosting on her nose was just too much to resist.  He let her get as far as the stove with the shrimp while he finished off his own cupcake (three bites, no problem) before he stepped up behind her.  His arms slid around her waist while his head slipped right in against her neck, kissing lightly before he reached up to tip her face more towards him.  He could have easily gone for a real kiss right then, but he didn't.

No, he smiled wickedly and licked the frosting off of her nose.

"Mmm, you're such a messy eater," he teased, though he now found himself with a decision on his hands.  He needed to go get a shower because he had dried blood in his hair by now, but that shrimp and garlic butter smelled amazing.  "That smells good, but my hair's pretty gross right now," he pointed out.  Personally, he could sit through a meal like that at this point, but he had no idea what her breakdown of the evening included.  If it would be more convenient to get his shower out of the way first thing, he wasn't going to complain.

Mars couldn't help the small giggly that escaped her as she felt his hands slide smoothly around her waist, half from amusement at his antics and half from the fact that he knew she was just a tad ticklish there. Despite that, she held onto the spatula even as he reached her nose, then rubbed the place where the frosting had formerly resided rather sheepishly.

"Caught me. I was hungry!" she pointed out, before waving the spatula around the pan's contents once more, "And I'd love to let these festivities... continue, but you need your shower and I need to add a few more ingredients to spice up these leftovers," she muttered softly, as if in protestation of his hands around her waist and his affectionate kisses. The way her body pressed against his, though, suggested otherwise.

Before things got a bit too heated, a low growl came from their ankles. Dante peered up at them expectantly, intelligent chocolate eyes searching for that elusive seafood he could now smell as well.

That 'suggesting otherwise' was enough to make him hesitate, but she was right about him needing that shower.  She wasn't going to want to be near him all that much if he stunk of alcohol, smoke and blood, now would she?  Of course, he wasn't against a little affection before he disappeared to clean up, but he wasn't going to get very far.  Dante decided otherwise.

Darren stared down at the other feline, raising an eyebrow at it.  For such a small animal, the housecat was surprisingly fierce, but he'd be damned if it was getting at his seafood.  He had no doubt Mars would toss Dante a few pieces, simply because the cat was spoiled, and there was nothing he could do about that, but he tried to put a limit on just how spoiled Dante was.

He dropped another kiss on her skin, right where her shoulder met her neck, and his lips practically brushed against her skin when he spoke.  "I won't be long then, and try to keep the little fiend from swiping all the shrimp," he requested.  And so, even if it wasn't his preference, he peeled himself away to go shower.

Another soft chuckle, as Mars reached a slender arm upwards and brushed his side with her fingertips, seeming to have forgotten about the small animal. When Darren stole away for his shower, however, she scooped up two pieces of shrimp and tossed them at Dante, who lept up in the air and caught them with such agility that Mars briefly considered tossing him some more before remembering Darren's warning and deciding not to.

Opening up the spice cabinet, she drizzled a dab of sesame oil on the dish for taste, then went heavy on the pepper and thyme. There were those little cherry tomatoes in the fridge too, which were quickly tossed in, with some fresh sprigs of basil. Mars had never really thought of herself as a 'domestic' type, but surprisingly, she threw simple meals together fairly well.

Turning off the stove, she doled the leftover scampi on a shallow, mint-green dish, garnishing it with some more fresh basil, and set it on the kitchen island along with the rest of the cupcakes and some of the bread pudding, too, which she set to warming up in the oven. By the time Darren was done with his shower, the pans had been cleaned, and Mars was quickly pouring out the cocktails - 1 part melon liquor, 1 part lemon/lime juice, and 1 part Squirt soda, which gave it a tangy kick - into two martini glasses. The aroma of bread pudding hung in the air.

Well, he was hardly going to miss only two pieces of shrimp, so Dante was welcome to those.  He had a habit of slipping the little feline scraps of 'people food' on occasion as well, though he didn't do it often when Mars was around.  No sense in confirming her belief that he was a bit of a softie, especially since Dante gave him plenty of reasons not to.

The shower felt incredible, especially when it came to washing his face and hair.  He'd noticed that his face felt the grossest after a full shift of him slipping into the kitchen to grab customers' food and spending the rest of the night behind the bar, and he could only assume it was the air in the kitchen and the smoke in the bar.  It was pretty gross, but it made showers extra-pleasant after work.  Mars beat showers, though.  Especially when she cooked, even if it was simple and not all that often.

"You know, if you keep feeding me this well, I might stop cooking altogether," he threatened happily as he wandered out in a pair of the aforementioned pj pants she'd gotten him and an old tee.  Comfy clothes.  "This all smells excellent."

Mid-pour, she glanced up at him, freshly scrubbed from the shower, and privately thought that he'd made a better dessert than the bread pudding. Keeping such thoughts to herself and revealing nothing but a bit of a grin, Mars flashed him those honeyed eyes and slipped in a curved smile.

"I can't say my cocktails are better than yours," she remarked, topping each with a bit of lime, "But I still make a mean scampi, no?"

Dante had gone off somewhere to amuse himself, leaving the studio lights in the kitchen illuminating a softly tiled beige floor without the constant feline shadow. As they ate - he his scampi and she a bit of the bread pudding and the remainder of that cupcake - she recalled something he might've been curious to know. Besides, anything was better than reminding him of that wound she had.

"Y'know Eliska? That pretty young grad student who's TA'ing my Economics discussion group? The other day she turned her head and I could've sworn that she had feathers at the nape of her neck. I mean, I've known for a while that she's a shifter now, but since she's never said anything to me... but a golden eagle?" she raised an eyebrow at him, "Think this is anything to write home about?"

He may have been oblivious of her thoughts, but something similar had already crossed his mind regarding her.  They were very much on the same page in that regard.  "Yes, I do have to agree that you make a good scampi, so I will stand aside for you to work your magic there from now on," he told her happily.  He was more than fine with letting her cook when she found something she liked to make and made well.  Digging into the dish only cemented that in his mind, and he actually didn't have anything to say until she brought up Eliska.

She'd told him about the girl, but if he'd met her, it'd been brief.  He thought that he could have figured out what sort of shifter she was by scent alone, but he was interested to hear that she was an eagle.  He hadn't ever seen one.  "I'm no expert on other shifters, but I've never seen an eagle.  I could mention it to my mother and see if she's ever heard anything about them, but maybe you should say something to Eliska about it if it won't freak her out that you know.  I imagine a golden eagle would be kind of rare, no?"

She took a few sips of the cocktail and retrieved a pewter spoon from the silverware drawer, digging into the bread pudding with that. Dipping the spoonful of bread pudding in the creamy sweet sauce, she licked her lips before taking it to her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

"Mmm. Yeah. I meant to bring it up to Connor but I haven't seen him in a few days," she added darkly, running slender fingers through her dark hair, "And if Eliska really is a golden eagle... I'm almost certain that she knows it's particularly rare, no?" The girl must've known it herself, "But maybe I'll hold off until after this semester's over. Maybe she's sensitive about it or something."

With another shrug, she finished off her first cupcake. At the rate she was going with sweets, one would've thought her enormous by now, but thankfully she had her training to maintain a trim figure.

"But otherwise - how's graduation gearing up?"

She could enjoy that bread pudding all she wanted, since he had eyes only for the scampi.  She was going to hate him later, when she wanted to be close and he stunk of garlic, but he couldn't resist.  He'd have some of the bread pudding afterwards in an attempt to neutralize some of the garlic, but not yet.

"I haven't seen Connor either, actually," he said, frowning.  Usually, he ran into his cousin at least once a week.  Of course, he also hadn't been going to the guild to do any training.  "I'm sure he's just busy and we'll catch him next time we're in the Guildhouse, and you can bring it up to him then.  That man's like a damn cockroach, he'll outlive everyone.  Eliska might not know how rare a golden eagle is, though."

He stopped, considering it over the pasta.  The only way the woman could really understand how rare her form was and what that meant would have been for someone else to tell her.  If nobody had yet, then she would be shockingly easy to grab, if someone wanted to.  Of course, his form was supposedly rare, and he hadn't had any trouble, either.

"Eh, it's gearing up just like it should.  Course work's a pain, professors stressing themselves and us out over everything they've ever said in class, typical," he said with a dismissive wave of his fork.  Of course, graduation.  It was strange, what his worries had become as he got older.  He'd gone from worrying about getting a car and a job when he was graduating high school to being responsible for his boss' safety against a couple of crazy, scary vampires and worrying that his girlfriend was going to get carved up fighting monsters as he tried to graduate college.  Wonderful.  

Her golden gaze had taken on a glimmery quality as he described his plans gearing up for graduation. She'd be there that day with flowers and balloons, undoubtedly.

"Yeah, I hear Professor Reed isn't taking it easy on you at all. What about after graduation?" she took another sip of her cocktail as she finished off her share of the bread pudding. The alcohol had finally taken a bit of a toll on her, imparting on her cheeks a glowy, dewy sort of sheen. She indiscretely stole a piece of the scampi with her fork, and a brush by her ankle told her that Dante had come a-calling once more.

"Shush-- no more shrimp for you," she cooed again, gazing down to the cat, who shot her a somewhat mournful expression and went to snapping at Darren's ankle.