Summary: In which Wes is a vampire, Travis is a werewolf, and their biggest problem is not the fighting. It's the UST. Oneshot.
Warnings: Paranormal AU. Implied interspecies relations of a sexual nature. Some swearing. Some crack.
Disclaimer: I neither own nor am affiliated with Common Law in any way.
This story was vaguely inspired by a prompt on the lj kink meme. I didn't end up fulfilling the prompt because I don't write smut, but I liked it so I wrote this anyway.
OOOO
Paranormal Romance For Dummies
The supernatural is the natural not yet understood.
-Elbert Hubbard
0.
"Wes, Travis, since you'll be joining our group, I'd like you to introduce each other."
There are few things Travis and Wes agree on, anymore, but when they turn to each other and share incredulous looks, they silently agree that of all the things they would be expected to do during this therapy crap, this was not one of them.
"Each other?" Travis asks with a frown.
"Why?" Wes asks on the heels of that sentence.
Dr. Ryan smiles encouragingly. "It's something I prefer to do here. Our job is to facilitate a better relationship between you two, and this way, we learn how you think of each other."
It's a plausible argument, but both men share a wary glance amongst themselves. Dr. Ryan keeps her tone light. "It's quite alright. Everyone in this room is parakind in one way or another. There's no need to hide anything."
Two pairs of eyes lock onto her.
"Everyone?" Travis looks curious.
"Even you?" Wes just looks irritated.
She smiles again. "Even me. Now, which one of you wants to start?"
Another look passes between the two of them, and then Travis sits up. "Well, this is Wes. He's a literal blood-sucker who used to be a metaphorical blood-sucker, and now he fights evil at night. He's obsessed with his ex-wife's lawn—note the 'ex' there—and he is addicted to bloody wheatgrass smoothies which is disgusting because seriously, wheatgrass? And he's pretty much always an OCD tight-ass." He beams charmingly at the group. Wes just stares woodenly ahead.
"That was…good, Travis, thank you. Wes, it's your turn."
Wes smiles thinly. "This is Travis. He's a mutt."
"I am not a mutt!"
"Really?" The blonde half-turns, throwing his partner a scornful look. "You were abandoned at a firehouse and don't know what you are. You certainly don't have any pedigree. Which makes you a mutt in my book."
"Oh, so pedigree is all that matters, mister my-sire's-sire-was-a-count?"
"Boys, boys." Dr. Ryan holds out a placating hand, voice pitched low and soothing. "That was a very good start, let's not ruin it by sniping at each other. I'd rather you not start a row in the middle of your first session." She makes a note on her pad. "Wes, I'd like you to try again. Without the insults, this time, please."
Wes gives an exasperated sigh reminiscent of teenage angst. "Fine. This is Travis. He's a werewolf who used to work in narcotics and now works in the LAPD Night Squad in Robbery-Homicide. He's a consummate womanizer who doesn't know how to keep his relationships out of the workplace, which causes all sorts of problems, you have no idea. He has no respect for authority, even less respect for other people's possessions, and he doesn't know how to say 'I'm sorry,' which is why we're here."
There's a moment of silence as the group processes what they've been told, and then, because they always love to delve into other people's problems and not their own, the questions start.
"A vampire and a werewolf?" Clyde asks. "Isn't that a really unusual combination?"
"Normally, yes," Wes agrees with a shrug, "but we make it work."
"We're the best," Travis adds, a triumphant grin on his face.
Dakota leans forward, staring sympathetically at Wes. "Is that why you're here?" she asks, arm curled in Peter's. "Because he keeps cheating on you?"
Both of them freeze. They see the way Dr. Ryan bites her lip to hide a smile, and Wes shoots her an annoyed glare while Travis throws on his disarming nothing-to-see-here grin.
"No, you don't—"
"We're not gay—"
"They're police partners," Dr. Ryan clarifies. Badges are flashed as evidence. Dakota is not the only one who doesn't look completely convinced.
Introductions done, the session continues uninterrupted until the end.
They both leave wondering what they got themselves into.
1.
"—so Travis disappears in the middle of our shift for thirty-five minutes to flirt with the cafeteria lady."
Travis sends an incredulous look Wes's way. "Seriously? You counted?"
"Of course I counted, Travis. And guess who's going to pay for each and every one of those minutes I waited?"
"Me." Travis paces in front of his chair like a caged wolf. "You already make me pay every single moment I'm with you. This will just be icing on the goddamn cake."
Wes leaps up, jabbing his finger at Travis's chest. "Well maybe if you stopped wasting your time on relationships that you're going to drop in less than a week, I'd stop nagging you about it."
"At least I have relationships. Or maybe I can do what you do, fixate and obsess over someone I left over a year ago!"
"You don't get to bring Alex into this, you damn mutt."
"Oh, name-calling? Really, fangs? That's where we're going with this?"
This is the point where it can go one of two ways; they will either start physically fighting, or they will start calling each other juvenile names.
Today it is the latter.
Across the room, Dakota sighs and drops her chin on her hand. "My god, you two are tense. You really need to work that out."
It takes a second for her words to cut through the (increasingly childish) insults, but when it registers, they both stop and stare at her.
"What?" Wes asks flatly.
"You know." She makes a vague hand motion. "You just need to get it on and get it over it."
At their continued blank stares, Rozelle chimes in helpfully, "She's saying y'all need to have sex."
Wes sputters incoherently. Travis lets out a bark of laughter and drops back into his chair, all the anger gone in an instant.
"You…that's…" Wes throws up his hands. "We're not having sex!"
Everyone in group shares a look. Dr. Ryan sits there, composed and looking much too amused.
Finally, Dakota looks back and simply asks, "Why not?"
Wes slumps into his chair with a groan.
"I hate you all," he mutters, and spends the rest of the session sulking.
2.
When Captain Sutton first pairs the two of them together, everyone thinks he's crazy. A vampire and a werewolf? It will never work. The two species have been fighting so long no one even remembers why they fight. Sure, Wes and Travis solved a serial killer case together, but it won't last.
From day one, people are betting on when they'll snap and kill each other.
Wes and Travis defy the odds. For five long years, they're partners and it's wonderful and they're better than anyone could have hoped.
Then the fighting starts, escalating more quickly than their bickering ever did, and people start whispering behind their hands. It's happening. We knew it would. Vampires and werewolves just can't work together. People erase five years of good teamwork and focus on the constant fighting.
And people wait for everything to fall apart.
Because everyone knows vampires and werewolves can't work together.
Wes is a vampire. Travis is a werewolf.
That's not their problem.
3.
The Travis-and-Wes show is temporarily put on hold when Rozelle and Clyde get into a truly impressive screaming match. Since Clyde is telekinetic and Rozelle is pyrokinetic, this involves a lot of ducking to avoid flying chairs and fireballs while Dr. Ryan tries to get between them and stop the fighting.
During the last five minutes of the session, with Clyde on one side of the room and Rozelle on the other, Dr. Ryan looks at the group and says, "Why were Clyde and Rozelle fighting?" Before anyone can offer their opinions, she says, "It's because they didn't understand each other's point of view. They weren't communicating, so things got lost between them."
"Communicating with your partner is a vital key to a healthy relationship," she continues, looking right at Travis and Wes (which really doesn't seem fair when Clyde and Rozelle are the ones who started throwing fireballs and folding chairs around). "So your homework this week is to explore one of the issues between yourselves. Sit down, talk it out. The goal is to find a new understanding with each other, so that in the future, these sorts of problems won't escalate so far."
She gives the entire room a pointed glance. "You have to be open and honest with each other. I know it can be scary, but it is essential to the process. Open, honest communication is the first key to healing the bond between yourself and your partner."
Her last words sound incredibly final. "Without communication, there's nothing."
4.
Wes and Travis talk all the time. They talk about work. They talk about suspects and murder weapons and alibis. They talk about office gossip ("They've really started a betting pool to see when we'll sleep together?" "Yup. And it's just as popular as the one where we kill each other.") and the new intern in the forensics lab and is Jonelle doing something new with her hair?
They talk about therapy and Dr. Ryan's new dress and my god, those yoga girls are annoying, can't they ever just wait five minutes for us to be done? They talk about the new girl at the front desk—no, Travis, you can't go flirt with her, she's a harpy and she'll rip you open if you piss her off—and how they're pretty sure that the mail guy has scales under his clothes. They talk about Wes's car and Travis's trailer and what they're going to get for lunch, no Wes, we're not having sushi again.
They talk about Wes's diet—not the blood, Travis could care less about the blood, but the greens, how can Wes eat so many greens it's disgusting—and Travis's annoying tendency to shed even when he's not in wolf form, god Wes it's kind of insulting that you keep lint rollers in your glovebox, asshole.
It's not like they never talk about anything important. They just make a habit of avoiding those sorts of topics.
It's easier that way.
5.
Pack is everything to a werewolf.
Travis has never had a pack. It's not really his fault. He was moved around so much he never really had a chance to become part of a pack. Oh, his foster parents did everything they could to make him feel welcome, all eighteen homes of them, and he loves his foster brothers and sisters as if they were actually his siblings, but it's not the same. Pack is home and warmth and belonging and heart, and as good as his foster families are, they're just not enough.
And then there's Wes. Wes, the slightly-neurotic vampire with weird quirks and a razor-sharp edge that prevents anyone from getting too close. The former lawyer who decided to have a midlife crisis and become a cop. The guy who stands beside Travis when no one else will and helps catch a serial killer that's terrorizing the underbelly of the city, killing girls no one else cares about except Wes cares, he cares so much, he cares the way Travis does, and that makes him different.
And then Travis learns that Wes is sarcastic and witty and can bend words to his bidding. He hates seeing people get hurt and he believes in the system more than Travis ever will. He's just as lonely as Travis is, even if he acts like it doesn't bother him. He's completely dedicated to his job, he always has Travis's back, and he's so in sync with Travis's brain that sometimes it's like they can read each other's minds. In less than a year, Travis is more comfortable with Wes than he's ever been with anyone else in his life.
That's when the wolf perks up and says Mine, and Travis realizes it's true. Wes feels like the home Travis never had, warmth and belonging and loyalty in one blood-sucking package. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle and it's everything Travis has ever wanted.
But Wes already has Alex, so Travis smiles and doesn't say a word. And if he flirts with girls, it's because he likes girls, not because the wolf is trying to make Wes jealous and notice him, because that would be stupid. Nothing is going to happen. Their relationship is fine the way it is.
It's better this way. For both of them. Wes has no idea, and Travis just ignores the wolf going Mine, my pack, my mate, my other, mine, mine, mine.
This is one of the things they don't talk about.
6.
Their latest altercation results in four broken chairs, a shattered computer (Travis's), and a cracked desk. Dr. Ryan is not happy when she walks into the captain's office.
"What happened here?"
Travis jumps up and points and his partner. "Wes went crazy and hit me with a chair!"
Travis," Dr. Ryan says, "Remember to use productive language. Ask why instead of making accusations."
"Fine." Travis whirls on his partner. "Why did you go crazy and hit me with a chair?"
"Why can't you keep it in your pants?" Wes snarls, lurching to his feet, hands clenched into fists at his side.
"Is that it?" Travis growls, pushing his face into Wes's. "You don't like me greeting new colleagues?"
"It's never just a greeting with you, Travis!" Wes hisses, lips drawn back and fangs bared. In vampires, aggression and defensiveness look the same—Dr. Ryan honestly can't tell which emotion Wes is displaying right now.
"I was just saying hello!" Travis shouts, right up in Wes's face.
Wes snarls and grabs Travis's collar. Dr. Ryan intervenes.
"Stop," she commands, despite the inherent risk in getting between a feuding vampire and werewolf. "Separate. Sit down. Now." She users her god-of-therapy voice, and they reluctantly obey.
"Wes hit me with a chair," Travis whines, sulking in his seat.
"Wes hit Travis with a chair because he didn't like your flirting," Dr. Ryan elaborates. She turns to the scowling vampire. "Wes. Why didn't you like it?"
"Because he always does this!" Wes throws up his hands. "He flirts with them, goes on one date, sleeps with them twice, and then dumps them and I have to deal with it!" He turns to Travis, full-on snarling. "Stop flirting with women!"
Well, isn't that interesting.
Travis misunderstands. "I wasn't going to sleep with her! A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone! It's got nothing to do with you!"
Oh. Interested indeed.
Wes bristles and looks like he's truly about to erupt. Before he can say or do anything he'll regret, Dr. Ryan steps in, putting a hand on either man's chest. "Boys, boys. Stop. You need to talk, not fight with one another."
"Talk with him?" Wes scoffs. "That's a waste of time."
"Oh, like trying to have a conversation with you is any walk in the park," Travis growls, hackles raised.
"Boys!" Dr. Ryan lets out a breath, folding her hands in front of her face. "Travis. Wes. Do you want to keep your relationship?"
That stops them cold. They look at her, then share a look that says, Of course I want to keep our relationship, why else would I be going to couple's counseling with this bozo?
Dr. Ryan nods. "Then in that case, there is an underlying issue here you need to bring out in the open. If you don't things will just continue to escalate until everything explodes, and I have seen enough relationships explode to know it never ends well."
They stare at her.
"What are you talking about?" Travis asks incredulously. Wes mirrors his expression.
She sighs. "Oh, boys. You are both aiming at each other, and you're both missing completely. You need to stop shouting at one another and start listening to what you're saying."
"What—" Wes starts, but she bustles behind them, shamelessly interrupting.
"Now, I've already talked to the captain. He's granted you the rest of the day off. I know how you two are, so I trust you to actually try and work this out without my supervision, but be warned, if there's no improvement I will bring this up in therapy on Friday." She pushes them towards the door.
They both look mildly lost, though Wes has his suspicious I don't like where this is going face on.
"What are we supposed to talk about?" Travis questions.
She gives them an encouraging smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Here's a conversation starter. Why was Wes so upset about Travis's flirtations?" She pats them both on the back and gives them another little shove towards the doors. "Go. Talk. Find a new understanding with each other."
They leave, sharing baffled looks with one another, and she mutters under her breath, "Good luck."
7.
There are people that don't know them, who see the bickering and constant one-upmanship. Who hear stories of drag-em-down knock-em-out fights that end in broken equipment and desk duty, and rumors of the half-dozen cases almost thrown out because the two of them couldn't stop arguing in court. And those people wonder if it's worth it, if a stellar arrest record makes up for the constant hassle and headache.
Those people, those strangers don't get it. Wes and Travis stay together, despite the bickering and fighting, because what they have goes way beyond just work.
It's because of the time Wes jumped in front of a silver bullet for Travis. Better for Wes to be laid up for a few weeks than for Travis to get even a scratch that could kill him.
It's because of the time they were taken and locked in a room for two days and Travis let Wes feed on him so at least one of them could keep up their strength for their grand escape.
It's because of all the times they've covered each other's backs in the field, and every time one of them has kept the other from spiraling out of control when a case hits too close to home.
They trust each other, implicitly and absolutely. Under the annoyance and anger, they know they can lay their lives in each other's hands and it will be kept safe. They are friends and partners and brothers in arms.
So when people wonder how they can stay together when all they do is argue, they just look at each other and point at the evidence.
Travis and Wes save each other, again and again, and that creates a bond strong enough to withstand anything.
8.
Travis follows him all the way to the hotel. Wes huffs as he slides the key in the lock. "I guess it's true what they say about stray dogs. Feed them once and you'll never be rid of them."
"Shut up, asshole," Travis grumbles, pushing into the hotel room. "I'm a mothafucking wolf." He plops on the bed without taking off his shoes or jacket. Wes grits his teeth and doesn't say anything because he knows that's what Travis wants.
"So are you gonna go first?" Travis asks sarcastically. "No? Okay, I'll start. Why'd you hit me with a chair, Wes?"
"We're not doing this," Wes snaps, hanging up his jacket.
Travis leans back on the bed, looking like he's ready to dig in his heels and wait it out. "Dr. Ryan said we have to talk, Wes. Use your productive language and your listening ears."
Wes glowers at his partner. "We have three days until our next therapy session."
"So you're just not going to talk to me for three days?"
"That sounds like a wonderful plan." He disappears into the bathroom. "You can show yourself out."
Travis does not show himself out, because Travis is a contrary jackass. He slides into view, leaning on the doorframe and scowling.
"Seriously, dude, what the hell is your problem?"
Wes glares at Travis's reflection. "My problem, dude, is that I'm partnered with an insensitive, womanizing asshole who can't keep it in his pants for five minutes after meeting a pretty face!"
"Yeah? What's it to you? It's not your business, Wes! If I want to alienate every woman in the precinct it's my fucking problem, not yours."
"It is my problem!" Wes grips the edge of the sink, gritting his teeth. "Everything you do is my problem, Travis."
"Oh yeah?" Travis puffs up, hands clenched, raring for a fight that Wes is all too ready to give him. "Why's that, Wes? Please, enlighten me."
Because you're MINE, he wants to say. He wants to shout it out loud over and over until Travis gets it in his thick skull that he's not allowed to flirt with women or sleep with them or even so much as look at them inappropriately because Wes has laid his claim and he doesn't give up easily.
Except he hasn't made a claim, he has every reason not to make a claim, so he clenches his jaw so hard he thinks his teeth will crack and he does the only thing he can do.
He turns and punches Travis in the face.
It's not quite what he wants to do, but it's just about as viscerally satisfying. And Travis has been itching for a fight since he walked in so he doesn't hesitate, meeting Wes in the middle. It's fists and fangs and teeth and claws, rolling around on the ground and bumping into things and they haven't fought like this in ages, a no-holds-barred battle of wills. And Wes's blood is pumping and adrenaline is racing and Travis is everywhere, Travis Travis Travis so he pulls his lips back and leans down and bites—
9.
The first time Travis meets Alex, he says, "Wow, you're hot," and Wes gnashes his teeth and grabs the edge of the desk to keep from wrapping his hands around Travis's throat. Alex is his. She's beautiful and smart and funny. She makes him laugh and she has no trouble staying up with him all night to talk law. Even though they both know it won't last forever, she wears his mark on her neck and they take it one day at a time and it's wonderful. With Alex, Wes doesn't feel the weight of forever looming before him.
So when Travis makes eyes at her, Wes wants to grab Travis by the throat and say, Look, look at the mark on her neck, those are MY teeth, this is MY wife, don't you dare lay a finger on her or think about her or even look at her or I'll rip your throat out.
It's a vampire thing. Vampires are very territorial, and Alex is his territory (even if he'd never say that aloud because she would not go along with any old-fashioned notions like that).
And then their time ends too soon. Alex decides she can handle being a vampire's wife but she can't handle being a cop's, and she's gone.
The only thing keeping Wes from sinking into depression is Travis. Travis, who is constantly there, bringing him coffee on bad days and shoving cases at him and horribly misspelling all his reports just so Wes will have something to do as he edits them line by line. Travis keeps Wes sane and normal and alive, as alive as he can be, and Wes gets over Alex so much faster than he thought he would.
Before long, Wes finds himself wanting to mark Travis the way he marked Alex. Wants to sink his fangs into Travis's neck and leave a clear sign for anyone to see. This one is mine. Back off.
He doesn't. He has a lot of self-control and he's learned to tamp down on most of his urges. This is just another thing he has to keep down. It's fine. Werewolves do things different and anyway, Travis has made every indication that he doesn't want to be kept, so it really wouldn't work out. Being loved by a vampire is kind of a forever thing, and Travis doesn't want forever.
(Travis makes fun of his continued obsession with Alex, but he doesn't get it. Wes has to go over there and see her, see how she's doing. She may not be his wife anymore, but he still loves her, she is still precious and important, so he has to protect her.)
It's fine. Wes doesn't let on that he feels like this and they continue to function like they always do, and if Travis realizes, he doesn't say anything. And every time Travis talks to yet another woman at the precinct, Wes sits at his desk and gnashes his teeth together and resists the urge to leap up and declare Travis is his, no one can touch him he is mine.
This is one of the things they don't talk about.
10.
Wes has bitten Travis before. Not often—even the simple act of feeding is fairly intimate, so it's only happened when absolutely necessary because it's so easy to go from a single bite to more. And this bite is more, so much more than just a simple feeding bite. It's sex and lust and power and everything a vampire iswasusedtobe, back before they got civilized and became part of the modern world.
And Travis—Travis fucking howls, bucking up into him, so he must be doing something right.
"You—" Travis grabs him, flips them so Wes is on his back on the floor. Travis looms over him, eyeing his teeth, his tongue, his mouth, and Wes licks his lips. There's blood, Travis's blood, and a bruise already forming on Travis's shoulder. A mark, a claim, mine mine mine you can't have him!
"You. Damn. Stubborn. Unexpressive. Bastard." Travis shakes his head, but before Wes can get too offended, Travis crashes their lips together, and this is much better than fighting.
They'll have to actually talk about this the way Dr. Ryan wants them to, later, once the adrenaline has worn off, but for now, it's enough to let their baser instincts take over and just let go.
11.
"Hey, Mitchell, come here! There's someone I want you to meet!"
The vampire walks down the length of the shooting range and the werewolf bristles. Before they're five feet apart, Wes's lips are pulled back to reveal his fangs and Travis is growling low in his throat.
Paekman chuckles and steps between them. "Alright, guys, now that you've both shown how very dominant you are, put it away."
They look at him, at this ordinary, powerless human who not only befriended a werewolf and a vampire but had the audacity to introduce them to each other. And now he's standing between them, completely fearless even though everyone knows that the first thing the two species will do upon meeting is fight.
David Paek is either extremely courageous, or he has a very good reason for throwing them together.
Slowly, Travis stops growling. Wes scowls, but he covers his fangs.
"Good!" Paekman claps a hand on each man's shoulder. "Travis, this is Wes Mitchell, from Missing Persons. Wes, Travis Marks in Narco and Vice." He gives them an encouraging smile. "Now shake and agree to play nice, because you two have a serial killer to catch."
"Serial killer?" Wes perks up mid-handshake. "You mean the missing working girls?"
"Yeah?" The hostility falls from Travis's face, cop instincts taking over. "What do you know about it?"
"I've got a few theories," Wes admits, "not that anyone is listening."
Travis rolls his eyes, huffing in frustration. "Same here."
Paekman leans against the plastic partition, grinning proudly. "What's the line from that movie? 'This is gonna be the beginning of a beautiful friendship'."
12.
Afterwards, once the anger is gone, once they've both stopped panting and some of the sweat has dried, Travis stares at the ceiling and says, "That was awesome."
Wes grunts and burrows his face in the pillow.
"Seriously," Travis moans happily. "That was fantastic. Why weren't we doing this before?"
"Because you're an asshole," Wes mumbles, words muffled by downy fluffy goodness.
"No, pretty sure that's not it."
Wes just grunts again.
" 's a shame, though." Travis stretches languidly, arms above his head. "If you'd waited one more week to be a possessive, jealous bastard, Kendall would have won the betting pool."
One baleful blue eye cracks open and glares at him. "So?"
"So." Travis rolls over, slinging an arm over Wes's waist. He snuffles into the back of Wes's neck, happily taking in the dry, scent of the other male. Wes smells like earth and blood and Purell and Travis. Travis has laid his claim all over his partner and the wolf is content. "If Kendall won the betting pool, she said she'd take us out for dinner. Somewhere fancy. But I think Amy won, instead."
Wes shrugs off the arm and elbows him away, but he turns and faces Travis so Travis counts it as a win. "Amy bet on us sleeping together?"
"Better than Kate. She's tossed money in the Wes-And-Travis-Murder-Spree pot."
"That is always still an option."
"Naaah." Travis wraps his arms around Wes's waist again, pulling him close. Grinning, he licks a long stripe from Wes's chin to his ear. "You wouldn't kill me. You love me too much." Mine mine mine.
"Really?" Wes grins a shark-y, toothy grin, rolling so he's on top. "That's what you think, is it?"
Travis growls playfully, flipping them over. "It is what I think."
And Wes just says, "You might be wrong," and Travis leans down to kiss those words away, which leads to another round of sweat and flesh and shared breaths.
After the second time, with Wes lying across his chest and Travis's arms holding him close, Travis says, "See? Told you," and Wes grumbles, "I hate you, stupid," which is really Wes-speak for You're awesome and I don't know what I'd do without you Travis.
After a few minutes Wes says, "Travis?"
Travis mumbles a sleepy, "Hmm?" already half-dozing from the exertion and the smell of Wes in his arms, warm and perfect and his.
Wes sighs. "I really don't think this is what Paekman meant about a beautiful friendship."
Travis laughs for like five minutes.
13.
Peter and Dakota start snickering the moment Wes and Travis walk in, and Dr. Ryan gives them a thoughtful look. Wes and Travis very pointedly don't look at each other when they sit, which only makes Dakota and Peter giggle harder.
"What is it?" Mr. Dumont asks, staring at the younger couple in bafflement. The couple shares a look.
"You can't tell?" Peter asks, flicking a sidelong glance at the two cops.
"I think Wes and Travis found a new understanding with each other," Dakota adds, hiding her giggles behind her hand.
Wes stiffens and sits up in his seat. "What do you mean?" he asks, sounding dangerously calm, which means he's probably on the verge of nervous panick.
The young couple just giggle again. "You really can tell, can you? You're completely scented," Peter snorts, burying his face in his hands.
"It's like Travis put up a big neon sign that says 'Mine, no touching on pain of death'," Dakota adds, sounding way too gleeful at the prospect. Though, considering how many times they've denied any relationship beyond the professional, she probably has the right.
Wes turns on Travis. "Seriously? You scent-marked me?"
Travis bristles. "Oh, like you have any right to talk to me about marking. Don't think I didn't notice this in the bathroom mirror this morning!" He yanks down the collar of his jacket, revealing, at the junction of neck and shoulder, a bright purple bruise surrounded by pinprick teeth marks. "If we're gonna talk about obvious neon signs, let's talk about this one, Mister Bitey McBiterson."
"I'm a vampire, I bite! At least I put it somewhere easy to cover. We have four shifters at the department, Travis. I can't just wash this off."
"Actually, you can," Peter jumps in helpfully.
"But he'd just scent you again," Dakota responds, and they burst into another round of giggles.
Travis and Wes both ignore them.
"Cover it? You thought I would cover it?" Travis sounds as incredulous as he looks. "Oh hell no. I plan on letting everybody know!"
"Why the hell would you do that?!"
"Because!" Travis leaps up, jabbing his finger at his partner. "After five years of putting up with your ass, I think everyone should know I'm getting something out of this relationship!"
Wes leaps to his feet as well. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"
"Boys, boys," Dr. Ryan placates, rising up, hands out soothingly. "Let's not ruin all of your progress with a fight."
They ignore her and keep shouting. Dr. Ryan sighs, Peter and Dakota continue to giggle, and the other two couples just look at each other.
The dynamics of their relationship are different now, but it really doesn't change a thing.
OOOO
Here's how I imagine them in this verse: Dakota and Peter are selkies, Clyde and Rozelle are telekinetic and pyrokinetic respectively, Mrs. Dumont is a minor seer, Mr. Dumont can turn invisible, and Dr. Ryan has low-level empathic abilities.
I'm really quite pleased with how this turned out, and I had a lot of fun imagining them as paranormal beings. I hope you did too.
Any critiques or comments would be awesome. I always love hearing from you guys.
Until next time~!