Chapter One: Save Today
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June 1st, 2052.
This wasn't the world I was born into.
This was never my path to take, perhaps this is why I have
Never been able to feel as though I truly belong.
Though, unexplainably I continue to find myself crawling along, grasping at
The surface, desperate to make it just a little further. See just a little more.
Witness just a little more of my own self-destruction.
I wear the clothes, smile at the privy anecdotes, and memorize the tales.
I turn a blind eye to their injustices, while pretending to understand.
But I am nothing more than a clever sheep in wolves' cloth.
How easily they forget now as the time passes I wasn't born one of them.
Minutes to hours, hours to days.
Days become weeks, and eventually weeks become years.
It's truly awing how quickly a century falls upon us now.
I've seen the rise of modern empire…along with their falls.
I've aided to the demise of several.
Some for a cause I believed in, and some to assure them I am just like them.
At times I even convince myself.
Though it's no more than a chameleon indulging in its own current illusion.
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June Second—4:45 a.m.
God, it hurts…..
Three little words create a silent chant I've grown accustom to.
Three little words that bring me a strange sense of comfort until I slip into the inevitable lull.
Slowly I bring my eyes open. Accumulated tears that could not slip through, now free. Running down my face to create a tiny puddle on the cold concrete beneath me. I no longer need to look to know there will be a puddle when I sit up. I no longer even need to look to estimate the size.
Best guess today, three inches-easy night.
The final tears make their way to the ground, vision beginning to clear.
A thick, argent gray wall greeting me. I'm so sick of argent gray. If I ever find myself in charge of the world, I will be sure to eradicate the color. I had thought it was a nice, neutral, calm color. Soothing and comforting even. Truth be told I'm sure it is still, but for me it's just a reminder of pain.
Pain that could never truly described.
Every muscle and ligament within my body tears. Every bone breaks in some way-the little breaks are the worst. Every organ shifts as they begin to function as an animal needs rather than a human-or general Fae. Every inch of skin stretches to accommodate each and every single change. Particular chemicals release in droves as others come to a halt.
Though I would never speak this aloud, I've found myself wondering in these moments of desolate silence, had Dyson changed so many time that it didn't affect him any longer. Or was there a true difference between being a shifter and a full-blooded creature.
Though I don't know if a hybrid can in good conscious use the term 'full-blooded'.
Life's little mysteries I suppose.
Sighing, I roll onto my back earning an array of cracks from various bones. These don't bother me, not anymore. In fact these, I hardly feel now.
There was a time when I awoke and I couldn't remember how to breathe. I couldn't remember how to think. I couldn't move unless it was trembling from agony. An agony so great I had begged to be killed.
It was far from my finest moment, but neither Bo nor Noah has ever judge me for it.
It's hard to believe this, 'there was a time…' was only three months ago.
A snort escapes me. Eyes closing while I arch my back as high as I can, desperately trying to earn one last crack. The crack to set everything back into its proper place.
It like the rest of my body, remains stubborn.
Laying back flat, I look over to my right. A six foot long as well as wide, charcoal tinted window. Though the material is far from glass, the material actually coasted double my house. I insisted against it, not out of modesty, something I've seemed to have lost some time ago, but rather out of fear I would escape. However, the unlikely yet dynamic duo of my wife and bodyguard joined forces to dub it necessary. Something or other about if I was in need of assistance, while being out of range from the six inch window on the door. My argument being there would be no one to assist me if I broke through the window and eat their throats out.
Strangely enough the vote was still two to one.
I pointlessly look around the room for a clock, I know isn't there.
Restlessness becoming a near maddening annoyance in my life as of recently. Restlessness was something I had learned to control many years ago. Imprisoned by the Light, given a cage with a leash as I learned my so called place. I had mastered little tricks, little techniques that would free me beyond my chains.
This restlessness though-it's far greater than anything I have ever felt before.
It's a hunger.
It's a growing organism taking on a life of it's own.
I wonder if I allowed myself free when I change, if it would subside.
It's highly possible, but I can never risk it.
Never.
Another sigh fills the room. The bottoms of my feet pressed firmly against the floor as I bend my knees. Closing my eyes I draw in a deep breath, palms mimicking my feet. A slight hesitation as I hear the door open behind me.
A smile curves my lips as I catch Bo's sent in the air. She's just showered. The mixture of her shampoo, body wash and perfume creating an intoxicating mixture.
I arch my back once more aiming for the same result, yet there is a growing ulterior motive now. It's nature far from pure, and quickly drifting further as she continues to remain silent. Then I hear something, a little-clank. Actually it's two forming one, she must have brought drinks.
My smile growing, back arching just a bit more as I take a whiff of the air. I was right, she brought coffee—Starbucks I think.
Her nearing footsteps pull my smile to a smirk, the predatory nature of her steps exhilarating. Furthering the arch of my back I finally achieve my initial goal, though I no longer care.
The feel of her near non-existent fingernails being slowly dragged down from my just beneath my chin to right where the hem of my panties would be. Wasting not a single second, she works her way back up. Circling around my belly button, pulling a soft moan from me.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me Doctor." She say in this husky whisper that drives me insane.
"Interesting observation." I can't help but to smirk, slowly lowering myself back down.
"Where do you think you're going?" She teases, and though my eyes remain closed, I know she's biting her bottom lip as she runs her eyes over my body.
"I think the better question is," My eyes opening to find hers. "Why aren't you following me?"
She doesn't say another word, just flashes me that devilish smirk she tends to get. Eyes never once leaving mine as she steps over me with one foot, before lowering herself down atop of my waist. The feeling of the chilled leather material on my skin sending a shiver down my spine. My hands moving over the floor, up her bended knees, along the outside of her thighs stopping at the curve of her hips. She leans back against my legs, hands lazily yet masterfully running over my stomach. No clear destination, yet every spot touched appears to be the right one.
"I must say," Her eyes move to my lips, down my neck to my breasts. "I am thoroughly enjoying this new found lack of modesty."
"Oh," I nod with a smirk, arching my hips firmly up against her. "I bet you are."
"Should I not?" She's daring me to say no. Hands sliding up to cup my breasts, thumbs running over my nipples pulling another moan from me. My grip instinctively tightening on her hips.
My lips part to give her my answer, tease her the way I love to do.
Instead I find her weight shifting as she leans down, pouty lips covering mine.
"Always a sure way to shut me up." I whisper against them when she pulls back just a bit, eyes opening to peer into mine.
"I can think of a few others." Her tone as husky as ever, tip of her tongue tracing my lips while she teasingly rocks her hips.
"Care to share?" My breath beginning to labor, hands sliding to the small of her back.
"I'd rather show you."
"A demonstration?" Left eyebrow raising, tilting my head up just enough that my lips find her throat. I can't help but to inhale, eyes drift shut once again. "I love demonstrations." Words whispered against her sensitive skin, the simple and somewhat innocent action pulling a hushed moan from her. The vibration on my lips curving them into a smile.
"Again? Seriously?" We both look over at Noah as he stares at us from the doorway. He continues shaking his head, and taking a drink of his own coffee. "Learn to hang a sock on the doorknob." Another laugh and shake of his head as he turns back around, heading right back out.
"Poor boy," I turn my head to look back up at her only to find she's already looking at me. "I think we've traumatized him."
"Oh well." She gives me this shrug, a smirk on her lips as she tries to catch her breath.
I run my hands back to her hips, then down her legs before resting them on the floor.
She doesn't want to stop, honestly I don't want to stop, but we're not exactly about to continue with him in the next room-though that would be interesting.
A smirk curves my lips once more and she just gives me this curious look as she stands. Curious or not, she doesn't say a word, just holds her hand out and waits for me to take it.
"And they say chivalry is dead."
"Whoever says that, clearly hasn't met me."
"But modesty obviously is."
"Pfft. You've never found modesty attractive." She says in a slight chuckle, walking over to our temporarily disregarded coffees.
"Who told you that?"
"If you did then we wouldn't be married." Smile over her face hidden as she brings her cup to her lips, walking toward me. "Hell, we wouldn't even have dated."
"Thank you." I say returning her smile, trying desperately not to give her the satisfaction of winning so easily. "Tough day ahead?"
"Eh," She gives me this little shrug, taking another drink. "The starting of my morning is making the though bearable."
"Feeling particularly charming this morning?"
"I'm always charming." A smile tugging at her lips as her eyes fall down my body.
"Don't forget pervy."
"I'm a succubus."
"So that makes it okay, hm?"
"If I wasn't then I would be defective."
"Defective?" My left brow raising once again.
"Mmhm," She nods, eyes narrowing as they linger around my waist. "You'd have a defective succubus on your hands."
"Can't have that." I tease, moving closer to her. "Then again, on the other hand. The endless tests that would have to be conducted, would be fun to say the least."
"Endless tests doesn't exactly sound like my ideal day." Her eyes come up to meet mine, this slight surprise there as she realizes how close I am now.
"Oh, but these tests would be," I trail off, fingertips of my left hand running over her stomach. It's something which causes her breath to hitch.
"Well, I may actually be a little defective."
"Stop it." An interesting mixture of a chuckle and giggle escaping me, fingers slipping within the waistband of her excessively tight pants. "There isn't a single defective thing about you."
"You don't know that." Her words followed by a baby pout.
"Oh, but I do."
"No way you could know for sure." Pout growing, she leans in letting the tip of her nose graze mine.
"I do nightly inspections." My own words a whisper, leaning in myself as my lips tease hers.
"You're gonna drive me insane woman."
"You love it." Another whisper, her bottom lip slipping between mine.
"I love you." Her free arm wraps around my waist pulling me against her. Lips covering mine for another kiss, a lingering one. Her nose teasing mine once more as she pulls back.
"I love you too, baby."
"Have I ever told you I love it when you call me that?"
"I call you that all the time." A little laugh escaping as I move back a step, taking a sip of coffee.
"Nope," She shakes her head. "You say hun, hunny, babe, occasionally my love, but hardly ever baby."
"I think you're crazy."
"I am, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"Well I think you are."
"I think I'm not."
"I understand that-but you are."
"We'll agree to disagree."
"I guess we will." I can't help but to laugh again, shaking my head at her. Leaning back into her, another quick kiss to her lips. "It has to be getting close to six, you should head in."
"I know." Her words masked in a sigh. "I just don't want to." With a firm pout she places another kiss to my lips. "See you later."
She flashes me a smile, before turning her back to me and heading out.
I want to ask her what's been bothering her lately, but then again I'm afraid of the answer.
I honestly don't think it's me or rather us. Certainly isn't the kids, well-the two living with us anyway.
Ten years since moving back to England, ten years in which she's always seemed comfortable here—until recently.
It isn't any one thing that seems to throw her, just everything.
Sighing to myself I shake off the thoughts, I would drive myself mad if I spent too long thinking about it. It's something both me and Bo spent a massive amount of time working on, no overthinking. No overthinking every little detail until it drives us mad. No more fixating on if she looks a little too long at someone. No more fixating if I was flirting with someone or just being polite.
We are still far from perfect, but I've given up on the notion of perfect. I now accept-no welcome the notion of 'perfect for me', and that's what we are.
She's grown so much over the years, sometimes I find myself looking at her and I can't believe it's the same woman.
I can't help but to grin, finding a pile of clothes neatly folded on the 'command central' as Ksenia likes to call it. Or in reality, the observation station. A thick, metal, circular desk fifty feet from my 'cage', and twenty-five feet in the opposite direction to the lab. It wasn't anything special really. Just a big desk with six monitors fixed along the curve, a single keyboard, a mouse. No phone, just a panic button.
Safety first mentality here.
Placing the coffee down, in no real rush I dress myself. Today he set out the navy blue scrubs with a black undershirt. Must be aiming for brownie points. I look over the gym-shoes curiously, new, lime green ones. They're appealing, just not sure what happened to my white ones.
Shrugging it off, I slip into them and walk around the desk taking a seat, only to have to stand back up to grab my nearly finished refreshment. Left hand bringing the cup to my lips as the right fiddles with the mouse until I find last night's files.
And….play.
I watch as I walk around the room naked, sit in various corners waiting for it to happen. Then it does. I watch as I turn into this uncontrollable beast. It's almost as painful to watch as it is to go through-almost.
Another drink as I fast forward through hours of a rabid me slamming myself against walls, clawing at them. I wonder if I'll ever gain a sense of knowing when I turn, a sense of control. Dyson had one. Kate had one. Several other older Fae I know learned to gain control over it, yet I continue to struggle.
I press play to watch the excruciating process of my changing back, my bones beginning to hurt just watching.
Every night I do this. Every night I torture myself. Every night I wait to see something different.
Every night, I'm disappointed.
Closing it out, I push myself up and walk over to the door on my left. Punching in the code and waiting for the sound of the bolts opening back up.
"Bout damn time." Noah smirks, though his eyes stay on the computer.
"I'm sorry, wasn't aware the world was ending."
"Haven't you learned by now," He glances over at me. "The world in a constant state of ending."
"Feeling philosophical this morning, are we?"
"I'm always philosophical. My thoughts have thoughts."
"And those thoughts have thoughts." I finish for him, a line I've heard a million times these past few years. It never fails to make me smile though.
I toss my cup in the garbage can by the entrance, walking over to stand beside him. I just stare at him for a second, even sitting down he's giant. I chuckle to myself, right hand messing with the messy-bun he has his medium brown hair pulled back in. I would have gone for the slight, close trimmed whiskers that he swears is a beard, though last time he bit my hand.
"Pet yourself, feline." He laughs, but shakes his head a bit.
A six-eleven, lean beast of sorts. He's the most unintimidating—intimidating man you would ever meet. Always with his long hair pulled in a messy ponytail, it was odd in a sense yet perfectly him. That really summed him up, odd yet in the perfect way.
He was a-bodyguard of sorts, but more of a friend than anything.
The company, Fae politics demanded as my position grew that I have one and then one day he shows up on my doorstep. He swears up and down Kate didn't send him, that she had nothing do with him showing up.
I know better.
He spent several decades with her when she was in France, he was actually like her in a lot of way. Perhaps that's why it was so easy to grow close to him.
Every so often I press the issue, one day I'll get him to admit to it.
"What are you looking at?"
"A report for what you got coming in."
"Me?" I look back at him. "Where is the we?"
"I ain't working today."
"Excuse me?"
"Yep, vacation day for this wolf."
"You know Kate used to use that same tone with me," I smirk while he desperately tries not to. "Do you know what the outcome always was?"
"Hot, passionate sex?"
"And you said you hadn't talked to her since the seventies." I can't help but to laugh, the look on his face priceless. "Please don't tell my wife I said that."
"I was about to say." He shakes his head, getting a laugh.
"No, really."
"No promises feline." He laughs, using his elbow to nudge me a bit.
Birds of a feather, I tell you.
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Bo's POV
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GENI-TECH / North Wing-Combative Training Facility—7:23 a.m.
"Fuck." I mutter to myself, hands hitting the thick black mat I find myself sprawled out on.
Rolling onto my stomach, bringing my legs to my chest as I do, palms pressing down against the supposed cushion. Twisting my head from side to side trying to earn a crack, before spitting a mouthful of blood out.
"You need a break?"
"Do you?" I snap back, glancing over my shoulder.
He doesn't reply, just smirks.
I'm wrong, his reply is another attack.
He leaps through the air, cutting our ten foot distance to mere inches. I throw myself on my back, his fist hitting the mat right where my head should have been.
My right leg kicking out and to the side. It's an awkward kick, but hard enough to buckle his leg. He falls down onto his right knee, groan filling the room. Lifting my leg over his head I bring my heel into his chest, left leg hitting his back as I force him down onto the mat.
The second he's down, I'm maneuvering up onto my knees, right crushing his chest as the left digs into the mat.
I take a needed breath.
It's a mistake.
His left hand grabs my face, throwing me off of him sending me rolling a few feet only to end up on my back.
"The fuck do I look like to you Bo," He snaps through a slight pant. "A human?" Words near venom as he comes toward me. "Stop pretending to fight me," He brings his foot down where my chest should have been, I've already rolled away. "And fight me."
He leaps again toward me, I swear he was a frog in another life.
I throw myself on my back, bent knees to my chest for a mere moment. Just long enough to get enough power behind them. Bare feet hitting his ridiculously hard and sweaty stomach as he attempts to come down on me. Kicking not only up, but backward he flies over my head. The thump his body hitting the mat sounds serious.
Rolling back onto my knees, spinning around as I look him over.
"Poor baby." I chuckle, as I watch him mimic my 'stance', blood dripping from his mouth. "Need a break?"
"Do you?" His brow raises, smirk pulling at his bloody lips.
We both jump up to our feet, eyes locked.
I try and slow my breathing, try and slow it without showing him that I'm having difficulty.
He's a definition of a monster. A six-seven, two hundred and thirty-seven pound, who's built like a tank. Then again when you weight that much and have only ten percent body fat, it's not hard to understand why. His baby face doing wonders to often disarm you-until he's aggressive, then you should worry.
I would worry-if I didn't know he was like a gigantic puppy.
I watch as he runs his hand up from the back of his neck to his forehead, pushing off a shitload of sweat. I can't help but to grin, I told him he needed a haircut and this morning he showed up with a fresh fade. It suited him better, made him look softer, younger, and for someone who sweats as much as him, it has to feel better.
We start to circle one another, the intensity level beginning to drop as I see him adjusting his shorts. I can't help but to laugh.
"Stop laughing, wedgies ain't funny when you're a guy. Shit gets suffocated."
"They aren't fun for women either."
"Yeah, but for men it's worse."
"I doubt that."
"It is, God was cruel to make it so sensitive."
"God was cruel when he invented the idea of squeezing a watermelon out of something the size of a marble."
"I like how you say that shit like you've experienced it."
"Hey!" My glare accompanied by a laugh. "Asshole."
"Just saying. You ain't never been kicked in the nuts, never suffered a wedgie as a man, and never popped out a watermelon."
"I've seen it happen."
"Seeing isn't experiencing."
"So are you saying I lose tough points cause I've never experience any of that-two of which is physically impossible?"
"Actually I was just trying to prove a point," Hesitating, he takes a step toward me with this serious look on his face. "But yeah, you really do."
"Screw you." I chuckle. "Dick."
"You know what, you should swap with your wife. She's popped out four watermelons."
"Hey!"
"Nia, actually looks a little like one." He laughs, and all I see is this bottle of lemon lime gatoraide fly through the air. It was meant to hit him, but he catches is, twists the mouth piece and starts to down it all in one motion.
"Could you be any more of a dick?"
"Language." I turn to bleachers, my daughter sitting on the bottom one next to my gym bag, this scowl on her face.
"You just said that like ten seconds ago!"
"Do as I say, not as I do."
"Jawohl." She barks, rolling her eyes at me. God I miss when they're cute and tiny.
"What happened to your hair?" I stop mid-step toward her, brow furrowing.
"Like it?" Smiles widely, this look written over her features that tells me my answer better be yes.
It's not bad-just different.
Ksenia was like her brother Adian, an interesting mixture of me and Lauren, far more of a mixture than Ethan and Isa. Ethan and Isa both take more after one of us more than the other, slight mixture of characteristics. These two on the other hand were a mixture in the true sense of the word.
Nia was Lauren's height, with her slender build with a more feminine square type of jaw. Her eyes as dark as mine, her skin a natural tan matching my own. Her lips the shape of Lauren's with my fullness. Her hair long, and thicker like mine with a slight natural wave she got from Lauren. The color on the other hand matching mine, or it did.
I smile, and just look at her.
I never thought I would see the day she died her hair, but her she was with these auburn highlights that makes the original color look like the lowlights.
She looks beautiful, just different. Maybe that's the problem, just one more thing showing me she's growing up.
God I hate when they grow up.
"You look beautiful sweetie." I flash a smile, and make my way over to her. A quick kiss to her temple, before taking a seat beside her. "Has your mother seen it?" I ask, slipping on my socks and then shoes.
"Nope, I was going to stop by, but Noah said they were pretty busy right now."
"Why would you text Noah rather than your ma?" Jimmy asks, walking up toward us.
"Beause Noah is Noah, and he has a better track record of answering while working than mother does."
"Seems odd."
"Something going on?" I ask, only half paying attention as I stand, slipping my phone into my pocket. Looking between them, both shaking their heads, I simply shrug. "Okay, whatever this is I don't get, but hey, kids will be kids." Another smile, another kiss to the top of her head and a nod for him. "Take my bag back home please, I don't have time to drop it in the car and if I leave it in my office-it'll get left."
"Sure." She answers a little too quickly.
What is going on?
I walk out without another peep, even walk a few steps down the hall before creeping my way back to the door. Pushing the left door open just a bit, peering in the window.
"What was all that about?"
"Just wondering why you're always texting Noah." He takes a seat next to her, eyes focused on his bottle in his hands.
"Jimmy he's a few thousand years old."
"And I'm a few century."
"But it's different."
"How?"
"Because he stopped aging at like-thirty something, and he's-I don't know. He's like mother's brother. I don't seem him as anything, but like a cool, older uncle."
"Yeah." He nods, and for a second they're just silent.
"I need to tan," She says after another moment, leaning against his arm, chin resting on his shoulder. "You're just always so much darker than me."
"I'm black." He finally looks over at her, this semi annoyed yet puzzled look written over his face.
"Wait, you're black? I thought you were just really, really-really tanned." She laughs, nudging him. "Got you to stop being cross." She laughs again, he just stares, and stares, and then finally gives in and laughs. "Mum uses that all the time on mother. Works every time."
I carefully let the door close, looking down as I pull my phone from my pocket.
This is most certainly needing to be addressed later.
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LO aka DOCTOR SEXY: Babe, hope your morning is going good. I need a minute when you have time. (8:01 a.m.)
ME: Always have time for you. What's up? (8:01 a.m.)
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The word sent practically just appearing as her picture pops.
Must be serious.
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"Well hello Doctor Sexy." I smirk.
(Babe, I told you to change my name in your phone.)
"Why? It's fitting."
(It's odd. People can see that.)
"Yeah, and your picture comes up too. I repeat, it's very fitting."
(You're impossible.)
"You love it."
(No comment.)
"You don't need to, I know it."
(Moving along. Sadly I didn't call for a little morning flirtation.)
"Yeah, I figured when Nia said she couldn't get a hold of you."
(We just received the third U.U.K.)
"U.U.K?" I ask, smiling politely at a passing co-worker.
(Unidentified. Unknown. Kill.)
"I thought that was U.K.s?"
(U.K.s are Unidentified Kills, which are kills we know are Fae, but not sure which kind. U.U.K.s are kills in which we aren't sure if they're human, Fae, animal or God forbid something we don't know all together.)
"Can't keep up with all the damn acronyms." I mumble more to myself than her. Every other month we have new lingo to learn, new policy and laws. Can never seem to keep up.
(Bo?)
"I'm here babe, did you find something?"
(No. Well I don't know, I haven't started this one yet. I had to prepare. I was calling to find out if you've been assigned this.)
"No, I haven't. I wasn't even aware there was a third kill yet."
(Do you know who was assigned?)
"No," I trail off, pulling the phone from my ear. I see an urgent text. "Speak of the devil, Cole just text me. I assume he's about to assign me."
(Good, I need you on this.)
"Lauren we talked about this. About me flying under the radar for a bit."
(I know, and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary, but I can feel there is something to this one. There's something beyond what the company is going to want investigated.)
"What about Jimmy?"
(Yes, I want him unquestionably involved. I want the whole family involved, but they won't assign him lead on an investigation, nor Hale after his last mishap.)
"Then I guess I don't really have a choice then do I?"
(You do Bo, I'm not going to tell you what to do or guilt you into it. I'm just saying that something feels off. Off like back when we were playing Scooby-Doo in the Dal.)
"Yeah, I got it." I sigh, slowing my stride as I'm within arm's length of Cole's office. "I'm here, I gotta go."
(I love you.)
"Love you too." I shove the phone back in my pocket and knock on his door before walking in.
He's behind this desk, phone to his ear as he stares down at a piece of paper.
Alexander Cole, or simply Cole. Certainly far from what you would expect as management, even if it was management for all things violence related.
Jet black hair that always looked wet, well what her had of it that is. A three inch high spiked Mohawk that stopped just as his head began to curve, everything else a tight fade, just enough to still have stubble. He was smaller in the sense of the other men around, only five-ten, but build beyond belief. I always wanted to ask if he was over compensating for lack of height, but never seemed to grow close enough to do it. His features seemed harder than they really were due to his build, but he had a somewhat boyish face. Unique features in a way, a product of a German mother and Chinese father, one of the few personal facts I know about him.
Beyond the hair, his oddest quality was his dressing style. Always in sweats of some kind or dark jeans with Jordan shoes from all the way back in the nineties. Strangest of all though was that he never wore a shirt, not a real one. Always a black or white sleeveless muscle shirt.
I wanted so much to hate him, but everything about him screamed rebel and in a way I related.
I admired it.
Reminded me of me from a time long ago.
Honestly most of all beyond the look, what made him impossible to hate was something he said one time back when we first met, one of our only conversations past work. We sat through a thirty minute reaming and he turned to me at the end of it and said, 'He may be pissed cause of what we did, but I promise you succubus, he's more pissed I refuse to wear a shirt with sleeves'.
Skipping over the next few lines of bullshiting, he finished up with, 'People like us are freaks to people like them. We will always feel pressure to conform, always be criticized when we don't. The important thing to remember is that they need us. We have something they will never have, and though they might not understand why, regardless they need us. So you may as well do you, let them do them, and get some laughs at how mad they get-cause they make some funny fucking statements when they get pissed."
It wasn't Shakespeare, it wasn't even completely coherent. What it did have though was an essence, and that's what stuck with me.
"You look like shit," He hangs up the phone. "Smell like it too, you heard of this crazy invention called a shower?"
"Did you seriously call me in here to insult me?"
"Yeah actually, I was feeling bored."
"I really hope you're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"I don't know," I tilt my head to the right, staring at him. "You always have the same bulldog expression."
"I'm assuming your wife called you already?"
"My wife calls me several times a day, gotta be more specific."
"Called you about the body. Third fucking one, she can't identify shit."
"She's doing what she can."
"Whoa. Whoa. Back off, I ain't saying anything derogatory, the opposite actually. If Lauren can't figure out what this is, then I don't know anyone else who can." He leans back in his chair, an expression on his face that resembles concern. It's odd. "These three kills can't even be officially linked according to the bosses' bosses. Let's be honest though, we know better. Not to mention these are all young girls, human girls who the human press has taken notice of."
"Just assign me already."
"These walls talk Bo, the grapevine has whispered that you want some time off."
"These walls should really mind their business, and ask me what they have to ask me, if they have something to ask me."
"Is your heart not in this?"
"My heart was never in this. This is a job to me and I've done it exceptionally. Yes, I wanted to have a break. Time off? Never, I know it wouldn't be permitted. Even after all this time, I still make people nervous, it's fine though, I enjoy it. I wanted an easy workload, time in my office, catch up on paperwork—"
"You hate paperwork."
"Everyone hates paperwork. Still needs to be done."
"Like this?"
"Yeah, like this." I sigh, running my hand over my hair, lose ponytail growing looser by the minute. "Just assign me Cole. We'll handle this, give Lauren the support she needs."
"Good, because this can't spin out of control."
"Is this you speaking, or those whispering walls?"
"Keep the mentality that dead, mangled girls are not something you ever want."
"Fair enough." I force a smile, nod as I start backing up toward the door.
"Question, and do tell me to go fuck myself if I overstep. This wanting to cut back on work, be home and accessible a bit more, would that have anything to do with someone returning to town?"
"What?"
"Kathryn Vergara. Word on the street is she's returned."
"If that's true, then I look forward to seeing her."
"Yeah, I bet."
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Lauren's POV
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GENI-TECH / South Wing-'THE-CAGE'- 11:43 p.m.
"I hate this." I say softly, squeezing her hand as we walk down the hall. My finger brushing against her wedding ring.
"I know. It won't last forever though."
"You can't know that."
"Oh, but I can." She glances over at me, this gentle smile covering her face.
"How?"
"I won't let it."
"Is that so?"
"Mm-hm. One way or another, it will eventually come to an end Lauren. This will become just one of those things that we look back on and think, damn we've come so far."
"I love your optimism."
"Well I'm the idealist and you my love, are the realist."
"Perfect combo, huh."
"Perfect," She comes to a stop, pulling me along with her. Her hold on my hand pulling me into her body when she does. "Combo." Words a whisper, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to my lips. "We've always been, and always will be."
"How do you always know the right thing to say?" I can't help but to return her smile, free hand moving up to cup her cheek.
"It's a skill." She leans back in, another gentle kiss that lingers.
The sound of the ten minute alarm ringing throughout. My eyes closing, her forehead coming to rest against my own. Her hands moving to the back of my neck.
Eventually this will pass.
"Goodnight Bo." I whisper against her lips, eyes slowly opening as the alarm comes to an end.
"I'll see you in the morning." She gives me another kiss, before turning and walking away.
I watch her walk away from me as I've had to every night since this began.
She vanishes behind the door and I quickly kick off my flip-flops, pull my scrub-top off dropping it atop of them, and then my pants.
I remember a time when stripping wasn't such a chore.
Walking into my own personal cage I pull the door shut, just as the one minute alarm sounds.
Pointlessly I take a seat on my knees in the middle of the room, palms flat on the ground.
This ravenous feeling beginning to stir in the pit of my stomach, heart beginning to race as pressure builds in the back of my jaw.
Eventually this will pass.