A/N- Mmm...so I finished River Marked a few days ago...and I don't know how I feel about it. It's like we were plied with a ton of new information we didn't need, and were cheated the pleasure of all the characters we've come to love. Seriously, I think I'm displeased with it. Oh well, that's what fanfiction is for. Coyote was a lot of fun though. I like those quirky kinds of characters that display little to no shame.
FYI- I don't know if there is a red speckled-back toad, or it if it's actually in Africa, or if it's endangered. I don't really care because I shouldn't be doing this right now anyway...i'm just messing around before I sit down and prep for a history mid-term. There are mistakes in here but I just cranked this out in one go. I'm aware of them.
Red Speckled-Back Toad
By: Berouge
Wolf pack dynamics were a pain in the ass to deal for an outsider on a good day. There was so much stock put into who belonged where, why so-n-so was below wolf number six even though they were technically stronger or more dominant and blah, blah, blah…
They were a hassle on a good day, but on a bad day like the one Mercy was currently enjoying, she wanted nothing more than to rip her hair out before retreating to someplace remote, and quiet.
Unfortunately, she wasn't getting to do either.
Cranking the wrench with more gusto than was really necessary, Mercy cursed and grumbled quietly under her breath at the persnickety group of werewolves that just so happened to belong to her backdoor neighbor's wolf pack….the Columbia Basin Pack to be more precise.
"Damn…overbearing…" She chanted as she loosened a ruptured radiator hose from the engine of someone's shiny new Mercedes with more violence then she'd normally show a hundred-thousand dollar car. "'This is wolf business only'…my ass!" she mimicked the Alpha's smooth voice poorly in her anger.
The front doors' chime sounded mutely through the closed steal door that lead out into the garage where she currently resided. Mercy pretended not to hear the bloody thing and continued to work away at her current project.
When the door to her office opened, she reigned in her temper before pasting a fake, pleasant smile on her face in preparation for another customer. Gabriel was out sick with the flu, and until he returned, she was solely responsible for all functions of the garage…and that included customer service.
Learning around the popped hood of the car, she flashed a smile before entering her normal spiel. "May I help- oh it's you." Going back to her work, she let her false cheer melt away like ice on hot cement. "I would have thought a surprise visit from you would still be a few hours yet. The sun hasn't even set."
Stefan, clad in a purple Scooby doo shirt and grubby dark jeans took a seat on one of many work stools that littered the garage. "Well it's lovely to see you too. I'm doing fine, thank you for asking."
"Ha, ha." She said bitterly, slipping the bolt and screw jacket off a connector tube before swearing heatedly as oil started to gush. "What the fu- where is this coming from?"
"Engine block is leaking profusely."
"Gee, thanks Nostradamus." She said acidly, frantically trying to plug the oily flow. "This is great. Just great! I could really have done without this little…ugh!" nicking a finger on the sharp edge of a piston, something finally snapped within her. Pulling her hands back, she stood for a second and watched as the cars' lifeblood oozed down the engine block to the garage floor, before spinning and flinging her heavy wrench at the opposite wall with as much strength as she could muster. The resounding crash and clatter did little to satisfy her so she chucked her back-up wrench at the wall too for good measure.
The silence that fell after was deafening, and suddenly she was ashamed of her little temper tantrum. Her shoulder's sagged and she dropped her face into her uninjured hand. "Sorry, Stefan." Her voice was muffled, but she knew he'd catch her words regardless.
Stefan, having watched the whole rare display of rage, seemed vaguely amused, but made sure to stuff that somewhere she wouldn't see if she suddenly looked up. Wouldn't want one of those heavy tools being flung at his head after all. "So what's got your fur all ruffled today?"
"Statistics." Came her pinched reply as she dropped her hand and moved off to retrieve her abused equipment.
When nothing was more forthcoming, Stefan hummed for a moment. "You must forgive my lack of insight, but…statistics? I always took you for more of a math hater than a closet practitioner."
Mercy paced back over to the work bench he was leaning up against and placed her wrenches in their proper places with infinitely more care than she'd just previously shown them. "Yeah, statistics. You know numbers and data processing and all that. I can't figure it out." Pulling a door open, she retrieved a small, battered box of band aides. The box was smeared with grease as was everything in the garage, but she didn't seem to notice as she eased a larger dandage out with a mostly clean pinky and thumb. "You're clothes will get coated in grease if you continue to do that." She nodded her head at the vampires' relaxed pose up against the bench.
At her wise words, Stefan just waved an unconcerned hand before his face. "I've got stuff for that just incase. Now." Turning so he could pluck the band aide form her before she got it as dirty as the rest of her, he shooed her off. "Go wash that up before you get gang green or something equally unbecoming."
"That's caused by rusty metal, Stefan."
"Not always. Now get." He flicked his fingers at her and watched as she trudged off with a small smile tilting his lips.
"I don't know what you find so funny, Stefan, but I'm not in the mood to be laughed at." Her disembodied voice floated back to him from the bathroom in the far corner of the garage.
"I'm not laughing."
"Yes. You are."
Stefan actually chuckled at that, before leaning back and setting his elbow in a fresh grease spot. "Oh, dannazione."
"I told you." Mercy chirped brightly as she hit the bathroom lights and toddled back over.
Snatching a filthy rag, he desperately tried to wipe the offending sludge off, but only managing to smear it around some. "Well that was counter productive." He thought out loud, before chucking the rag back over his shoulder and gesturing for her, now clean-ish, hand. "So, statistics, eh?"
Mercy pursed her lips, not saying anything immediately. "I've always wondered about the numbers."
Nodding in encouragement, but not understanding exactly where she was currently going with this train of thought, Stefan deftly pulled the little back stickies from the band aid. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. How the numbers clearly indicate how things were turn out with those little patterns that show up time after time." She continued, watching him as he gently took her finger into his hands and messaged the skin to see the complete scope of damage. "Like, for instance, how the odds currently disfavor the Red Speckled-Back toad of Africa."
"What?" Stefan said in confusion.
"Yeah," Mercy bobbed her head, before hissing as he moved the skin of her hand in such away that the recently sliced flesh hurt as it split open again. "With all those bad things happening to it, I've wondered how long it can last in its little toady home before it's completely driven to extinction."
"I see." He didn't. Not really. But she didn't need to know that.
"And the World Wildlife foundation isn't really helping, since they have all those people tromping though its home, making a mess of things and upsetting its little schedule of catching flies and hopping around and stuff- all in the name of protecting it from outside dangers."
"I…see." He started to have a hunch to where this was going.
"Do you?" Mercy asked in a quiet voice, eyes firmly fixed on her freshly wrapped finger.
Stefan looked at her face. Her tightly drawn features were pinching off the normally friendly demeanor that usually radiated off her like a small super nova. "Mercy, they're trying to do what's right by the…toad."
"Are they?" She raised her brown eyes to meet his own. "Are they really? Or are they just doing all this for their own profit? You know, to keep the rabid hippies at bay and the ecosystem in balance. Is it for the toad, or the benefit of their own conscience over the balance of what things were that they do all of that?"
Stefan, cocked his head. "I think the rabid hippies make up the soul employee base of the World Wildlife Foundation, Mercy."
"You're missing the point." She huffed, intent to move on from him and this conversation, but he grasped her arm to prevent her from leaving.
"They're trying to do what they think is best." He said gently, searching her guarded expression. "It's a unique situation that this red splattered-butt toad is-"
"Speckled-back." She corrected heatedly.
"-in and there's a very good chance that they aren't entire sure how to proceed with protecting it. After all, those dirty hippies aren't used to looking at the world through a toads perspective. Or any rational persons perspective for that matter." Stefan reasoned without ever hinting he'd heard her interruption.
Mercy let the tension in her shoulders slowly ease out, with a long suffering sigh; she cast her eyes to the side, unwilling to maintain eye contact less he see something she wasn't comfortable sharing.
"Is what they're doing so wrong?" Stefan probed hesitantly.
Mercy closed her eyes, and let her thoughts on the matter air out. "Maybe the toads want change to come. Maybe the conservationists are keeping the toad from spreading her wings and flying."
"Toads can't fly, Mercy." He stated the obvious.
"Well maybe they want to, and people like you won't let them!" She snapped, before twisting out his grip and stomping back over to the forgotten Mercedes to button it up for the night.
"Mercy, it's possible that Adam and his wolves are so protective because, in regards to physicality alone, you don't have the muscle or the stamina to take on all the supernatural world has to offer by your self." Stefan said, finally dropping the ridiculous double conversation they had been having up till that point. "Hell, that's half the reason why most 'monsters' ban together in seethes and packs and...whatever it is the Fae do. There is safety in numbers."
Mercy paused as she went to fetch some kitty litter she had stored in large trash bins located next to the big bay doors. "I can't help that, Stefan." Moving forward again, she mumbled so quietly he almost didn't catch it. "It's not I that was the unwilling party in that respect."
Ah, the crux of one the many issues buried here. Stefan didn't think he had the leeway to venture down that path with her. At least not now, not tonight.
"What did you expect them to do?" He asked lightly, slouching carefully back against the bench again, this time weary of any more rogue grease puddles.
"Not smother me!" she burst out passionately as she scattered the litter over the pool of oil below the car. "I've managed just fine on my own for a hell of a lot longer than they bother to admit or recognize. I can take care of myself thanks!"
"Rouge werewolves, mad scientists, demon ridden vampires, the fae- you certainly manage to find trouble so easily that it is worrisome."
Wrong thing to say, he realized belatedly.
"I ended up in all that trouble helping them, you, and the fae!" She barked. "Do not misconstrue all that as my fault, Stefano Uccello!" Grabbing the hood with her free hand, she slammed it down with so much force it didn't catch and bounced back. Catching, it again, she pressed it down and made sure it was secure before setting about putting her garage to rights before going home for the evening.
"I never meant it as being your fault, Mercy." He said soothingly. "I just meant that bad things find you well, and you are so very mortal and so very important to several of us."
She snorted rudely, as she pulled a door open next to him. He stopped her again with a stilling hand on her arm. "Mercy, you are my friend. Yet, because of my inability and mistakes, you are now known to my Mistress for what you really are- a natural enemy to vampires. This makes you a target for her anger and that is extremely distressing to me." Her eyes softened and he kept going. "I'm sure, that my being what I am, and being your friend on top of that, that you would feel the same if the human populace became aware of my presence and spent great amounts of time nefariously plotting my demise."
Releasing a great sigh, Mercy nodded. "Yeah, I would. Am."
Smiling at her completely honest answer, Stefan let go of her arm. "And I know for a fact, that Adam, being a pack alpha on top of being insanely dominant, has a problem with letting people get hurt around him, for him, if it's within his power to stop it."
"That's Adam…but does he have to be so domineering? Honestly between him and Samuel, I'm losing my mind."
"He can't help that…either he." Stefan scratched at a spot on his chin. "Never thought I'd be singing the defenses for a wolf." He muttered slightly astonished with him self. Than he brightened. "Do you see where we're all coming from?"
"Yeah," She conceded tiredly, "but that doesn't mean I have to like it."
He bobbed his head in understanding, "I know what you mean. I drew the short straw this evening."
"What was that?"
"Nothing dear."
She eyeballed him suspiciously before moving off towards the bathroom again to change. "Has anyone ever told you that talking to yourself is a sign you're crazy?"
"Have you ever followed your own preachings?"
"I do not preach fang-face."
"Could have fooled me with you being such a feather head." He said unconcernedly as he flipped some invisible dust off his shoulder.
He heard her laugh through the closed bathroom door, and he grinned. "So, what are you doing tonight?" he called, knowing she could hear him despite the door and the running water from the shower.
"I was planning on baking some cookies before starting on my mountains of laundry, why?"
"Emergency bad movie night at Kyle's- I was sent to collect you."
"What's the emergency?"
"No idea, Warren seemed pretty harassed when he called and I could hear someone, who I believe was Kyle, ranting about Cashmere and bleach in the background."
A few minutes later, she stepped out with a billow of steam, clad in a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. "Oh dear, Warren did the laundry again."
"I see…" Stefan said slowly, clearly bewildered. "Is this a problem?"
"Warren doesn't comprehend that some clothes need to be cleaned by professionals." Shaking her head in abandon. "We should go save him."
Pulling his keys from his pocket, he fingered them with a gleam in his eye. "Ready little, toad? Or do the statistics still seem too daunting this evening to enjoy a night amongst friends?"
"Shut up, Stefan. If I wanted your opinion, I'd give it to you." But she smiled and snatched his arm before dragging him out towards his bus. Somehow, being reminded that it was because they cared so much, it made things easier to deal with. At least for the time being.
A/N- I'm supposed to be studying for some mid-term tomorrow. And that was a lame ending. ^_^ But I hope you enjoyed wasting all that time reading it!