A/N: first chapter that justifies the M rating. Story is progressing in a direction I hadn't anticipated so just going with it. Hope you're happy to follow!

Chapter 8

The Pack needed a place to meet and recover from missions, and that place was a safe house in the Pimlico area of London on the aptly named Lupus Street. John was the last to arrive and could hear the others arguing as he descended the steps to the lower ground floor flat.

"It was supposed to be a straightforward collection," Lestrade growled around a mouthful of pizza. "It didn't feel right from the start. Some other wolf had been there, I'm telling you, I smelled him."

"There was no other wolf, other than Moran. I would have sensed him. The perimeter wasn't crossed – no scent trail." Mary stood with her hands on her hips glaring at the half-naked policeman where he leaned on the kitchen counter. "Unless you're saying I missed something?"

"Well he got in somehow, he was there! Maybe you were a little distracted? Or maybe you're distracting us?" He took a step towards her, dark brown eyes clouded with lust. "Maybe you should just open your legs right now for me. A five day fuck-fest sounds glorious." He adjusted his half-hard cock through the thin material of the joggers he'd pulled on, advancing on the petite naked woman, but she stood her ground. As he reached for her left arm, her right flew out and connected with his cheek delivering a slap that could be heard in the next room and rocked him back on his heels. John bared his teeth, growling deep in his throat.

"Leave her alone! She's mine!" Mary turned to glare at him instead.

"Don't make me hit you too!" She threatened, her fingers clenching into a fist and subtly changing her stance so she could throw her entire weight behind the punch if necessary.

John heard Mycroft chuckle behind him as Mary stormed out to find some clothing leaving the two men sizing each other up. "Thank goodness we only have this problem once a year. Lestrade, you know from experience your advances will be rebuffed - painfully - so I suggest you stay away. John, you need to eat before all this gets too cold."

Half a dozen take-away boxes were spread out on the small dining table, their contents already half gone. Calories were necessary, and the cheese-and-meat laden beauties were a perfect mix of carbohydrates and protein. John snagged a piece in each hand and happily tucked in, the altercation quickly forgotten now Mary had left the room. Lestrade still stared at the door after her, an odd look on his face until Mycroft touched his shoulder and offered a pack of cigarettes. He took one with a rueful grin "why me? Every fucking year Mycroft! Why me?"

Mycroft smiled, lighting their cigarettes and slipping the gold lighter back into his pocket. Unlike the others he was already fully dressed, not quite his usual dapper self, but smart in dark grey dress trousers and pale blue polo shirt. "It's not you remember, it's your wolves. They call to each other and unfortunately for you your bodies demand you answer. It's only a short while, and this year it looks like you might have competition." He nodded at John who simply looked confused, not following the conversation at all.

Lestrade looked at the puzzled doctor who was already munching on his fourth slice of pizza. Younger, fitter, army-trained... Yeah Lestrade could take him down in a fight - in his dreams! It was a while since the DI had needed to throw a punch, and it was decades since he'd fought over a woman. John was his mate, his drinking buddy! Normally they didn't even hunt in the same pool having opposing gender preferences in recent months, but apparently Mary's wolf had decided Lestrade's needed some younger competition. Christ, he was going to have to fight his best mate for sex with a woman neither of them even wanted, and Mary sure as hell didn't want either of them! "Can't I just concede?" He asked hopefully.

Mycroft laughed and yawned simultaneously, patting his arm fondly. "I'll leave you to explain your joint predicament to the good doctor; I'm off to bed."

John dropped to the sofa beside Lestrade tucking his feet under him. The DI had found something to watch on TV - a repeat of a cooking show John had seen earlier in the week - and was gulping noisily from a large bottle of water while he criticised the chef's take on panhaggerty. "No, no carrots," he grumbled, "that's just plain wrong!"

"It's a regional variation; he explained it earlier in the show."

"It's an abomination, is what it is! You can't have carrots in it." John just shrugged, not giving a damn whether it came with or without. He had something more important on his mind.

"That was Lord Moran tonight, yes? The guy selling secrets or whatever to Mycroft?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, I've seen him on TV. I don't think too hard about Mycroft's business with him, safer not to I reckon. We're just muscle at these things."

"OK, it's just... Was Moran ever Pack?" Lestrade was startled at the question, looking unconsciously towards the door and lowering his voice.

"What makes you ask? Oh god, you recognised his signature? But how? He hasn't renewed the bond for more than twenty years so even we find it difficult to detect. You should find it impossible not being full Pack."

"I think... Actually I'm pretty sure, that Moran was the one who bit me."

"Fuck! Mycroft needs to know about that but not tonight, he needs to rest. We'll talk about it tomorrow ok?"

"Talk about what tomorrow?" Mary said, flouncing into the room still barely dressed. She'd put on pants and one of John's old t-shirts, but it looked like that was as far as she'd bothered to go. Greg shifted uncomfortably when she wriggled her way between the two men on the sofa stretching her bare legs across his lap and leaning against John's shoulder. Her hair was still damp from the shower and she smelled good, like strawberry, vanilla and sex. Without thinking Greg ran his hand up her shin, coming to rest just above her knee, and began stroking his thumb over her kneecap in repeating circles making her sigh. His wolf stirred, looking up at him from where he lay in the shade of a tree, alert to the sudden smell of female close by. She stretched and slid further down John's shoulder, pushing her legs further over his and forcing his hand further up her thigh. He grinned down at her, eyes darkened with arousal, and stroked his hand all the way to the apex of her legs, sliding between the soft silky skin of her thighs to brush teasingly over the cotton of her pants.

"Um, Christ Greg, what are you doing…?" John murmured, acutely embarrassed and more than a little turned on to watch his female flatmate sprawled against him while his supposedly 'I'm -100%-gay-never-looking-at-another-woman-again' bisexual best friend flicked his fingers between her legs. Mary smiled up at him and licked her lips, pouting suggestively and suddenly in his mind the silver wolf was brushing against his sandy flank. The she-wolf dipped her head submissively, licking at his mouth and he came back to the room with his mouth moving over Mary's and her tongue sliding against his in a hot, dirty kiss. He looked down her body to find her t-shirt had ridden up exposing her belly and Greg's fingers were slipping wetly inside her, his thumb caressing her clit. John couldn't tear his eyes from the vision of his friend's fingers dipping into that sweetness and he was instantly hard. He wanted all of that wet heat for himself, it was his by rights. Mary moaned when he pulled her into his lap away from Greg's dextrous hand, but she rapidly scrambled against him, straddling his lap and rubbing wantonly against his erection.

He had to break the kiss to fumble with the thin cotton pants he was wearing, silently thanking every god that he wasn't battling with jeans, and as soon as his cock sprang free Mary was guiding it into her tight heat. Greg growled and then he was behind her, kneeling between John's legs and pressing his naked cock along the cheeks of her arse, squeezing his rigid length along the dip between them. Mary rocked hard on John, clenching her inner muscles around him and rubbing her arse against Greg. The DI's expert fingers reached around her and dipped to her clit once more, while John delivered a bruising kiss, thrusting his tongue between her panting lips. Mary pulled away from John's lips, gasping over her shoulder to Greg "kiss him!" and Greg leaned forward, sandwiching the petite woman between their bodies while he curled his free hand around the back of John's head and pulled him in for a rough open-mouthed kiss. John tasted blood when he fiercely kissed the other man back, thrusting his hips upward as hard as he could and then he was coming in sharp bursts inside her, seeing stars from the male assault on his mouth and the female heat around his cock. Before he'd even finished Mary's hips were lifted from him and she was pushed roughly face first against his chest, Greg thrusting into her from behind, grunting at the tight slick grip of her that sent him spilling over the edge only seconds later. His fingers didn't falter however, teasing, pulling and rolling at her centre until she too reached orgasm with a wordless yell of pleasure.

All three were breathing heavily by the time they collapsed back onto the sofa, sex-mussed clothing hurriedly dragged back into place. Mary curled up across Greg's lap, her feet resting on John's thigh. "I don't know if that was a good thing or not," chuckled Greg.

"Felt good, though I'm not sure what the hell happened… Now it just feels a bit weird. Me, and you two… well, not something I ever pictured!"

"Um, yeah… I think I was supposed to explain before it happened, but I was sort of expecting a fight first. That's generally how it goes."

"Explain?"

"My wolf is in oestrus," Mary said sleepily. "She decided she liked the look of you two as potential mates. She's been keen on Greg's wolf for a number of years, but you're something new. Normally she would flirt to get you both interested and then let you fight it out to decide who gets the pleasure, but for some reason she's decided to share. Not that I'm complaining… that was bloody good for me boys."

"Yes, no complaints here, though still frankly a little shocked. Does this happen often?"

Greg laughed out loud. "Once a year for about a week, she turns into a bit of a nympho. I wasn't joking about it becoming a fuck-fest earlier. Alpha-female privilege. Unfortunately the wolves don't really respect the human rules for relationships, sexuality, or common decency, so things can get a bit… interesting."

"And by 'interesting' you mean weird…?"

"You got it!"