Sometimes, Ishmael hated the instincts that had been hammered into him by the infection. It never wanted to let him slow down, always wanted him to push forward, go, hunt, feed, take… sometimes even kill. He had managed to bury many of those instincts, and the more he learned about these humans, the more he focused on trying to speak and trying to understand, the easier it became.

The instinct that was welling up in him now as he sat in the tent with Zoey and Jan and the other humans was getting very hard to ignore indeed.

He desperately wanted to get Zoey alone. Tasting her, breathing in her scent again only reminded him of the scarce moments they shared together while the others were unaware or absent. He would give anything for one of those moments right now…

His silver grey eyes stared up at her eagerly, taking in her appearance and presence and making a slow smile curl across his face.

They were all talking, but he didn't fancy trying to understand them.

Not right now.

All that mattered right now was her, beside him, close enough to touch. He straightened from where he crouched, ignoring the way the biggest human stiffened where he sat, his clawed hands reaching out to touch her.

His female… it was so good to see his female again.

…

Francis eyed Ishmael warily as the Hunter straightened. He knew they were more dangerous when crouched to pounce, but he wasn't used to seeing him stand like that and the overall image was a little intimidating.

Imagine that, he told himself. You're intimidated by a scrawny kid you could probably have snapped in half on a bad day. Raking his eyes over Ishmael's form, he grunted, shifting them to gaze at Zoey.

She seemed blissfully ignorant of the fact that Ishmael was pawing at her with a look in his eyes any guy could recognize. It didn't go so far as to sicken Francis, but it sent a little shiver squirming up his spine. It didn't sit right with him, seeing an infected think this way, and no matter how much they had travelled together, this was somewhat of a safe zone and bringing an infected into it seemed a little too much like Russian Roulette.

It didn't help that he'd come pretty damn close to liking Zoey in the past weeks they'd spent together, and while he didn't push the matter at all; he could clearly see that all the effort in the world to make her notice wouldn't mean a thing right now.

Ishmael was now growling to get her attention, which she gave to him quite willingly, the two of them sitting down on the floor together to 'talk.' Mainly, this consisted of Zoey talking to Ishmael and Ishmael attempting to mimic the words she was saying.

He had gone from dog to goddamn parrot. Maybe falling off a couple buildings had jarred something loose in that already fuddled head of his.

Reaching up to run a hand over his freshly shorn hair, Francis breathed a deep sigh, turning his eyes away.

His eyes met Bill's, the old man standing with the woman who had saved Ishmael from the top of Mercy Hospital. When their gazes held, Francis could tell Bill's thoughts paralleled his own without even needing to say anything. Maybe Francis wasn't the brightest man on earth, but there were some things he understood quite clearly.

This was the ninth inning, and the rookie had just made a winning play.

It was at that moment Jan's phone buzzed across the desk she had set it on, the woman turning to look for it hurriedly. Francis thought it was odd behavior, being so worked up over a phone call, but the reason for her almost frantic search became clear when a dark figure soared through the air, landing heavily on the desk and snatching up the phone before she could grab it.

Ishmael stuffed the phone in his mouth, leaping easily away again before Jan could catch him.

"Oh Jesus, not again… Ishmael!" She shouted, pointing to the spot in front of her. "Come here, this instant! Bring that back!"

"What's the beef he's got with your phone?" Francis grumbled, raising an eyebrow at the Hunter.

"He associates phone calls with tests." A hiss came from across the room, strangely muffled by the phone Ishmael was still gripping in his teeth. "Every time the phone rings; he thinks he's going to get more. I've got it on vibrate to keep him from hearing it, but the little bastard is a fast learner and I seem to have a bad habit of setting it down on hard surfaces."

Jan hurried towards Ishmael, who leapt off again, this time landing next to Bill. The old man turned to grab him, but the Hunter scurried out of his reach faster than he could move, soon ending up diving under Francis' bed.

Strangely luminescent eyes peered out at them, the glowing of the phone also visible, and soft growling issued forth from beneath the bed. It was as if the little bugger was daring them to even try to take him.

Now the parrot dog was a cat as well. True to form, he batted at hands and faces that got too close, not hard enough to actually hurt them but enough to surprise them the first few times it happened.

"Have you tried telling him the tests are over?" Bill couldn't keep amusement out of his voice, lighting up another cigarette.

Jan sighed softly and dragged her fingers through her short, dark hair.

"You try telling him. He won't believe me, considering I'm the one who kept dragging him there for tests in the first place." She muttered in reply, Bill stomping over to the bed and shooing the people sitting on top of it off. He crouched down to look beneath it, Ishmael offering him a cheeky growl, and then Bill snapped his fingers sharply.

Silver grey eyes blinked rapidly in the darkness under the bed.

"Get out here now and give the lady back her damn phone, Ishmael." He barked, the Hunter immediately darting out from under the bed and hurrying to hide behind Zoey. "Oh, don't you dare!"

"Too late Bill." Francis laughed. "He already knows who's gonna protect him."

"Zoey, get that phone will ya; it might be important," Jan called, Louis laughing as he watched Zoey attempt to wrestle the phone from Ishmael's grip. She had at least gotten it out of his mouth, but he was intent on keeping it.

"Jesus, what did they do to him at those labs? He's pretty keen on not letting you have that thing," Bill remarked, turning almost suspicious eyes to Jan. The woman took the time to pull out one of her own cigarettes, lighting it and shaking her head.

"He hates needles about as much as he hates being naked," she murmured, Bill raised an eyebrow and Francis made a face. "He wouldn't bathe on his own, I don't know WHY. He would whimper and carry on until I helped him, and then he wouldn't even take his clothes off to let me help. He's an odd duck."

"He's a freakin' Hunter," Francis offered, both Bill and Jan frowning in his direction. "What?"

"For the last time, Francis, Ishmael is different." Bill didn't go so far as to swat him, but Francis still flinched like he had. Bill's bark was as bad as his bite. "He's not just another one of those things. He was part of the team then and he's part of the team now."

"Yeah yeah," Francis muttered, looking over at Ishmael and Zoey, who had stopped wrestling for the phone seeing as Zoey had finally managed to get it away from him. Ishmael was now sulking, lying on his back on the floor in a manner that suggested he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "Doesn't change what he is though."

…

Jan accepted her somewhat damp phone back, offering a grimace and a 'thank you' to Louis, who had brought it to her. She wiped it off on her pants and flipped it open to check if there were any messages. Guilt was chewing at her again, mostly for not going back to see if Steve was alright, and her heart began pounding rapidly when the phone rang again as she opened her mailbox.

Answering it, she turned her back to the crowd, moving into the corner.

"Hello?"

"It's about time. Did the h-… did Ishmael steal your phone again?" Jeffries voice was irritated, but she had hardly spoken to the man when he wasn't irritated by one thing or another, so she ignored the tone.

"Yes, he did. But I've got it now, so what are you calling for?" Jan was aware of Bill's eyes on her as she spoke, understanding the man's caution and suspicion. She was the new girl, and she had mentioned unfinished business, she had a working phone and she was responsible for Ishmael having a mini freak out every time her phone rang.

"I'm afraid the news isn't as good as it was this morning. Your husband checked himself in about an hour ago to the lab, claiming he thought he was sick. I was wondering if you noticed any strange behavior as of late."

"No stranger than usual." Rubbing the back of her neck, Jan turned to look over at Bill, who didn't bother looking away, gazing at her through a haze of cigarette smoke. "He and I had a fight, I told him to go and get checked out because he wasn't looking too hot."

"Have you been back to your tent, outside the town walls?"

"Never managed to make it there, I met up with Ishmael's friends and we ended up talking in their tent." Jan turned away from Bill again, lowering her hand in an attempt to hide its shaking. "What happened?"

"Your husband tore it apart. I sincerely hope there wasn't anything important in there, and if there was, I apologize."

"Tore it apart?" She breathed, frowning deeply. "What do you mean, tore it apart?"

"Exactly what I said, it's been destroyed: shredded paper everywhere, the sides ripped, the furniture smashed and things strewn about all over. Quite literally torn apart."

"Well, all we had in there were Ishmael's reports and the things we were given when we got here. Nothing I'm emotionally attached to. How… how did he do such a thing?" She asked, no longer watching the volume of her voice.

She was aware that all of them were looking at her now, so she turned to face them again, shaking her head slowly.

"I'm afraid that's the bad news. As you were aware, your husband is not immune. We went over his tests and discovered something startling."

"Is he infected?"

"No. Not in the traditional sense of the word, at least." Jeffries took a breath, and Jan noticed that Francis and Zoey did as well. Bill was silent, Louis muttered a curse under his breath and Ishmael growled softly, crouching down again. "There's been a mutation."

"Mutation?" Jan repeated, shaking her head. "What kind-"

"Something has altered his blood, his DNA. He's mutating, but we're not sure into what. The infection combined with some outer influence is altering him in both body and mind. We've got him sedated, but we need you to come to the lab for tests."

"Me?"

"Yes, you Jan. We have a theory we want to test."

…

…

…

Author's Note!!

This is a chapter I actually had to rewrite two or three or more times before I found the way to get across what I wanted to get across. I promise there will be more romance in the near future for Ishmael and Zoey! As I mentioned in the last story, every 'movie' needs some love scenes or shower scenes or both!