In Cop's Clothing
chapter three
It was really, entirely too early the next morning when he woke to the sound of knocking. He groaned and rolled over, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away.
The knocking continued. Peering out from under the blankets, he realised the sun was up -- had been for a few hours.
Entirely too early to be awake.
"Go away," he yelled, pulling a pillow over his head.
"Bosco?"
It was his partner. *Again*. Swearing under his breath he got up, grabbed his robe and headed to the door.
She was knocking again as he reached the door. "Bosco?" she called again, then he heard the keys jangling.
"I'm coming already!" He jerked the door open before Yokas could unlock it.
She looked startled, when he got the door open; for a moment neither of them said anything. Finally Yokas asked, "Can I come in?"
He stared at her for a moment, feeling awkward. "Sure," he said shortly stepping back to let her in.
"So." She seemed at least as awkward as he felt, not moving past the entryway.
"If you're coming in, come in already." He turned and headed for his kitchen, feeling in desperate need of caffeine.
"Bos," she said as she came after him, then stood at the threshold of the kitchen. "I'm sorry."
He turned and looked at her surprised. "For waking me up?"
She shrugged, but said, "For last night." She grinned slightly. "I'm not sorry for waking you up."
"Didn't think so. You want some coffee?"
"Sure." She waited, watching as he began to make a pot.
Neither of them spoke until Bosco was handing over a mug of coffee to his partner. Then he said, "There's nothing to be sorry for." He paused. "Well, maybe the dog crack..."
"Dog crack?" She gave him a guileless look and took a sip of her coffee. "That was your own fault, you know. You should have told me you were staying home to turn into a wolf."
He felt his lips twitch. "My mistake."
"So, tonight and tomorrow, same thing? Then you're back to what passes for normal, for you?" She seemed calm, asking her questions casually. Bosco figured if he didn't start telling her more she would just ask some of the thousand questions she had and he'd have to answer, or hedge, anyway. Might as well answer and hedge, upfront.
"This is normal for me." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, what do you want to know?"
"Have you always been a werewolf? Or did one of your dates bite you?" she half-grinned.
"Yes, I've always been a werewolf and it's none of your business about what my dates have done to me." He grinned back.
"Good; I really didn't want to know." She tilted her head. "So were your folks werewolves?"
"That's generally the way it works."
"So you really were raised by wolves?"
"For three days a month anyway." He sat down at the table. "And I was very cute as a cub."
Her eyebrow raised. "You have pictures?" Her tone was eager -- a tone he had long ago learned to be wary of.
Bosco snorted. "Yeah, right, like I'm going to show them to you."
But that told her all she needed to know. "That's OK; I can call your mom."
Great. He made a mental note to visit home and "lose" the old photo albums.
She opened her mouth to ask another question, then stopped. Curiously, she reached out and scratched his head. Right behind the ear. He felt his eyes start to close in pleasure before sense kicked in and he pushed her away. "Yokas!"
She just laughed.
"Geeze, keep your hands to yourself!"
"I just needed to know if it would work." Setting her coffee mug down, she gave him a slightly stern look. "Bosco...."
He knew that look. "No," he said, holding his hands up defensively.
"You're going to tell me that you've never once gotten into trouble, being here alone?"
"Nothing I couldn't get out of," he hedged.
She folded her arms, and continued to look stern. "Before you changed back in the morning?"
Bosco opened his mouth, then closed it again under his partner's glare.
"You're coming over to my place tonight."
"Yokas-"
"From now *on*, Bosco. Or I'm going to sign up to work a K-9 unit three nights every month."
"Fred and the kids are just going to accept your partner turning into a wolf?"
She shrugged. "Fred gets along with my mother. This is nothing." With a sly smile she added, "The kids will love it."
"I bet." He sighed. "What -- did you promise them a dog or something and this is your way of wriggling out of it?"
"Five o'clock, Bosco. My place."
"Yok-"
"Don't argue with me or I'll come over here and drag you there, myself."
Looking into her eyes, there was no doubt in Bosco's mind she was serious and he had a sudden image of her pulling him along on a leash. "Fine," he grumbled, giving in.
With a satisfied nod, she picked her coffee mug back up and took it to the sink, rinsing it out before setting it on the dish drying rack. Bosco finished his coffee with another gulp, then handed his empty mug to her. She was halfway through rinsing it as well before she stopped, gave him a glare and returned the mug.
He gave her his most winning smile. "It was worth a try."
"I need to get back home," was all she said. "I'll see *you* tonight."
"Yeah, yeah." He muttered just loud enough to be heard by pushy partners.
She was almost to the door before she stopped. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Werewolves are really aliens from another world? You're secretly a libertarian?"
"Yokas, please. Me, a libertarian? Who would believe that?"
"Who would believe you read Anne Higgins?" she countered.
"Well, only when I sprout fur."
"So you turn into a libertarian on a new moon?"
"You found me out. Are you sure you want me around your kids?"
"They'll manage. They're tough kids. Besides, I like exposing them to people less fortunate than themselves."
"Hah hah. Very funny. You sure you're not in the wrong profession?"
"Like what, social work?"
"I'm surprised you didn't say dog catcher."
"Don't you have a license?" she asked, surprised. She frowned, slightly. "Does this mean you don't have your rabies shot?"
Bosco resisted the urge to bang his head against the kitchen table, but just barely. He'd just *had* to say that. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Other people to annoy?"
"You're right, I have to get home." Her tone made it sound much less concilatory than her words implied. She stopped, though, with her hand on the door. "You'll be there. Five."
He glared but acquiesed grudgingly. "Yeah, right, whatever."
There was a part of him, however, that warmed at his partner's concern and how quickly she seemed to have adjusted to this new aspect of his life. Not that he would ever admit it though.
This time she just nodded, then simply let herself out.
*************
It was ten 'til five. Bosco stood in the hallway outside the door to Yokas' apartment. He had, after promising half a dozen times to show up, almost decided not to. In fact, he had been well on his way to staying home when his partner had called his place at 4.15. She and he both knew it took almost half an hour for him to drive to her place from his.
She hadn't said anything -- she hadn't needed to. Bosco had felt immediately chastised in the way only his mother and police captain had been able to do before he was partnered with Yokas. Thus, here he was, standing in the hallway, about to spend the night with people who before today had had no idea what he was.
And he was going to be what he was, in front of them. He should have told Yokas just how awkward he felt, being on display like this. Maybe she'd have let him get out of it.
No, probably not. She'd just talk him into it, again. It wasn't like he'd gotten into *serious* trouble, on his own. Very often.
And it was never *that* serious. Except the time he'd had to call a friend of his folks' to come over since he couldn't very well call 911.
He sighed, and raised his hand to knock on their front door. If he'd breathed a word of *that* one, he'd be over here every full moon for the rest of his life.
Fred was standing there, looking as nervous and awkward as Bosco felt. That cheered him, immensely. "Come on in." Fred stepped back, waving him in.
"Thanks," Bosco replied as he walked by the man and into the apartment.
Fred closed the door behind him, and then headed towards the kitchen. He was obviously in the early stages of preparing dinner. "You, uh, eating with us?" Fred asked.
"Depends on when it'll be ready."
"Half an hour." He started, slightly, apparently realising how close to moonrise that would be. "You, uh, don't eat when...?"
"Not cooked meat."
Fred looked startled. "Oh. I could... I mean, I haven't started cooking it yet."
It was weird, Bosco reflected, to be talking with the man like this. Normally they barely tolerated each other -- Bosco enjoyed needling him and watching him simply deal. Now, though, they had to be polite -- without Yokas around to referee. "Um, thanks, but I'm... um.. not very hungry."
Fred nodded, looking relieved. Before either could realise they had to think of another topic of conversation, Emily and Charley came running in. "Dad, dad!" They stopped short when they saw Bosco.
"Uncle Bosco? Whatcha doing here? Gonna have dinner with us?" Emily asked in rapid succession.
"Umm.. something like that," Bosco answered, glancing at Fred. Hadn't Yokas told them about...?
He was going to kill her.
Fred just shrugged, unhelpfully. But he didn't answer his daughter's question. "He's staying the night, sweetheart. Remember?"
"Oh..that's right. He's sleeping over. Can he read me the bedtime story?"
Fred gave Bosco an amused glance. "Of course, Emily."
"Cool! He can read me the next chapter out of my fairy tale book." She grinned and bounced.
"Uhm..." Bosco said intelligently.
"You need to finish your homework," Fred reminded her.
She sighed dramatically, "Yes, sir." Then she wandered back to her room as if doom itself was awaiting her there.
Fred smiled, apologetically. Then Charley, still standing at Bosco's side, tugged at his hand. Bosco looked down at the boy. "Come watch cartoons with me." Charley said, tugging again. "Wanna ask you something."
"What?"
"Come on." Charley dragged him into the living room.
The TV was on, animated images flickering past. Bosco recognised the show and grinned. Charley had been watching his face and grinned back before pulling him over to the couch. "I love this show," he admitted. It was on in the late mornings, on another channel so he watched it a lot, while getting ready for work. He could see that he had gained a measure of respect for that.
"Cool, Uncle Bosco. I wanna ask you about the wolfy stuff." Charley cut right to the chase, "Are you really gonna turn into a wolf? How come? Does it hurt and get all icky like that one movie? Do you like to howl? What about--"
Bosco restrained a groan. Yes, he was definitely going to kill his partner.
"Does that mean you're changing now?" The boy looked positively delighted.
Ignoring the boy wasn't going to help, though -- soon enough he'd be changing, and then he wouldn't... Bosco smiled to himself. He wouldn't be able to talk. When was the moon rising again?
Twenty minutes, surely he could divert the boy that long. Fortunately, the cartoon would still be on for 15 minutes. On the other hand, he found at every commercial break Charley had more questions.
"Do you get fleas?"
"I'll be right back," Bosco said, getting up and going into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He stood there, staring at his reflection in the mirror for five minutes. They didn't know how long it took, he told himself. They wouldn't know he was hiding until he *did* change.
There was a knock at the door, "Uncle Bosco? Does the fur itch? Does Mom need to get you a collar or something? Can I take you for a walk?"
Emily's voice joined her brother's. "Is he changing? Uncle Bosco? Are you changing now?"
The boy's voice came through the door, "I think so. It's been real quiet. No growling yet, though."
Not that he didn't feel the urge to, but that had nothing to do with him changing. He was running out of time to stall. Part of him was relieved -- the other part was *not* ready to go out there and be seen.
"Do ya think his fur the same color as his hair?"
"I dunno. Is he locked in and can't get out? He's been in there forever. At least one cartoon already."
"Charley? Emily? What are you two doing?" Bosco heard Fred calling out, and walking down the hall towards them.
"Nuthin, Dad. Just waiting for Uncle Bosco to come out and be a wolf for us."
That time Bosco *did* groan. It lengthened, involuntarily, as the change began. He quickly stripped off his clothing, then soon found himself on all fours.
He heard the distinctive thump of an body being pressed up against the door, "It's happening! I heard him yowl or something."
Bosco looked at the door. Now or never. How long could he hide in the bathroom? The tile couldn't be that cold to sleep on....
"Uncle Bosco?" came Emily's hesitant voice. "I gotta go."
"Me too." Charley chimed in.
Faintly he could hear Fred, "Yeah, Uncle Bosco...me three."
Rolling his eyes and thinking up new and painful ways in which to get back at his partner, Bosco nosed the door open. And glared at the three people standing there.
There was a stunned silence then Emily stepped back. "Big teeth." Bosco just turned his head towards her. She examined him critically. "I like your face," she declared.
In spite of himself, Bosco found himself grinning at her. She giggled, then pushed her way past, into the bathroom. He looked up at Fred and deliberately yawned.
"Grandma, what big teeth you have."
Charley looked up at his dad and giggled. With as much dignity as he could manage, Bosco pushed past them and went back to the living room.
Dignity was tested when Charley clambered after him -- Bosco was only a bit taller than the child, and the boy seemed to be entranced by his new playmate. Climbing onto the couch and flopping down, Bosco gave him a "What?" look.
Charley climbed up beside him, half-lying on him. "You're cool, Uncle Bosco. Can I take you to show and tell?"
Bosco shook his head.
"We talked about that, Charley," his dad stuck his head into the room. "Remember? You can't tell anybody."
Charley looked disappointed, but nodded.
Giving in to an impulse, Bosco licked the boy's face, making him giggle. What the hell. The kid wasn't that bad. Charley grabbed him around the neck, hugging him tightly.
Which would have been fine, if he wasn't being strangled.
It was probably a good thing he couldn't speak -- he suffered in silence throughout suffocating hugs, fur pulling, and being lain on, for the rest of the evening. He had never been more grateful to hear the words, "Okay, bedtime!"
From the look Fred gave him, he knew his gratitude was not unnoticed. Charley tried tugging him towards the bedroom, though. "Can't he sleep in our room tonight?"
Bosco was sure he wore a look of horror at the suggestion.
Of course, Fred wasn't being entirely helpful. "If he wants to, Charley." The boy cheered, though his father continued, "But you gotta remember he ain't used to going to bed this early. You can't expect him to wanna go to sleep now."
"But-"
"Don't argue, Charley."
Bosco shot Fred a grateful look.
"Can he stay with me until I fall asleep?" he tried.
And if he was in there would the kids ever fall asleep? Or just keep tortu- playing with him?
Fred scooted his son down the hallway. "You get ready for bed. He can come in for a few minutes." Fred shot him a questioning look, to make sure he didn't mind.
Too much. He sighed and shrugged. Yokas was definitely going to owe him big.
He was lying on the couch, waiting for the kids to get ready to be tucked in, when the front door opened. Yokas.
"Hon?" she called out, as she came in.
"In here," Fred called back.
Bosco raised his head to look at the doorway, but otherwise didn't move. He saw her walk in, see him, and stop. "Bosco--" she began in a stern tone. Then she shook her head. "If you shed on my couch, you're vaccuuming it tomorrow morning."
He stuck his tongue out at her, then deliberately scratched in such a way to shed the maximum amount.
She muttered something about the things she had to put up with, and went into the kitchen. Fred headed after her, stopping briefly by the couch. "They're, uh, ready for you in there. Don't keep them up too long, OK?"
Oh you can bet on that. The sooner they went to sleep, the sooner he could have some peace and quiet.
Both the kids were in bed when he came into the room, and they both sat up, bouncing, at the sight of him. "Are you gonna sleep with us?" Charley asked excitedly. "There's room for you on my bed!"
He settled on the thick rug on the floor between the beds. He wasn't a fool. It would be a lot easier to sneak out if he wasn't on the bed. Not to mention there was less chance of getting kicked down here. Or huggle-squeezed out of air.
Or -- the excuse he had from Fred which he could use if anyone asked... not that he could answer anyhow, but it was a good answer regardless -- it would be less likely to keep the kids awake all night.
Charley and Emily hung over the sides of their beds. "You're a really big wolf," Emily said.
"He's the biggest I've ever seen!" Charley added in an impressed tone.
Bosco snorted. Somehow he doubted the city-bred boy had seen many wolves for comparison.
With the air of the more knowledgable older sibling, Emily echoed Bosco's thoughts. "You've never seen *any* wolves."
"Have too, at the Bronx city zoo on my class trip." A little pink tongue came out and made a defiant gesture.
She rolled her eyes. "Those don't count."
"Whynot?" He ran the phrase into one word.
Bosco rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to put his paws over his head.
"Because those are *regular* wolves. Not werewolves. Werewolves are always bigger than wolves."
"And how would you know? You read a book or something?" Charley's fingers reached towards him, trying to touch his fur. He shifted, moving out of reach. Which only moved him into more into Emily's.
"I know all about werewolves," she said, haughtily. Bosco caught the guilty glance she sent him knowing that he, of course, would know if she were wrong. But her brother didn't know that.
"So tell me. Tell me. Tell me!"
And there wasn't much he could do about it, given that his vocal chords were not capable of speech in this form anyway.
"They only change during the full moon, which means he'll be here tomorrow night, too." She ticked each Werewolf Fact off on her fingers. "They can only be killed with silver bullets," she added, then fell silent, thinking.
Bosco sighed. He wished that was true.
"So? Everybody knows *that*."
Except the werewolves, Bosco thought.
Charley's leg was now dangling over the edge of the bed. It wouldn't be long before they were on the floor with him.
"I bet you don't know they can't stand garlic," Emily said. She'd scooted a little closer, towards her brother -- and hence, towards the floor.
Bosco considered vacating the premises before he ended up with the two kids trying to strangle him again.
"No spaghetti tomorrow for dinner then." The little boy's gaze drifted from him to the door to his sister. Clearly debating whether it was worth getting trouble for.
"No spaghetti?" Emily frowned for a moment. "No garlic bread, either." She slid onto the floor and wrapped an arm over his neck in sympathy. "Poor Bosco."
That did it for Charley. He was there an instant later. Only the boy grabbed him around the middle since his head was already taken.
Oh, he was gonna get Yokas for this. He wasn't sure how or when, but he would get her.
"OK you two, back in bed. NOW!" Yokas added sternly, when the children got their protesting faces, but before they could actually whine. "Bos, you better leave their room else they won't get any sleep."
"But Mom we were just--" Charley hushed at his mother's thunderous expression. "Yes, ma'am."
Emily climbed into bed with equal disgust, pouting as much as she dared. With a grateful sigh, Bosco climbed to his feet and made his escape.
"If we're good, can he sleep with us tomorrow night?"
"Pleaseeeee?"
Yokas gave her kids a measuring look. "How good is 'good'?"
"Ultra special super good, Mom." The boy answered quickly.
Oh no. He was not going back in there. They couldn't make him.
"We'll even clean our room!" Emily said, earning a dirty look from her brother.
"And take out the trash." Charley upped the ante, getting a glare back.
"Uh-huh. Tell you what, you two clean your room tomorrow, and take out the trash, *and* do what your father tells you without talking back, and he can sleep in here tomorrow night."
What? Nope. No way. It wasn't going to happen.
There was a long pause while the siblings debated it silently between themselves, then in chorus they answered, "Yes, Mom."
"Good." She sounded pleased with herself. After they'd left the room and she'd shut the door firmly, she looked down at Bosco. "Don't worry," she said quietly. "They'll never manage to do all three."
Bosco just glared at her, making a note to have a discussion about "things you do not do to your partner when he's a wolf" in the morning.
"What?" she asked with exagerated innocence. "Hey, if they *do* manage, I'll owe you one! They haven't cleaned their room without arguing for five days beforehand in months."
He just continued looking at her steadily. Projecting with all he was worth that he wasn't a bargaining chip.
"Oh, like you don't already owe me a big one for doing the reports last week?" Apparently she could still read his mind.
Okay. So maybe he did owe her. But not this big.
"And the week before? And when I told Masters that you weren't the one who--"
Bosco winced.
"So I think you could suffer a couple hours or entertaining my kids." She gave him a look. "They really aren't that bad."
If he had been in human form he would've just raised an eyebrow at her. Somehow he still managed to convey that impression.
She whapped him on the top of the head. "You're one to talk. I have to live with them." Then she glanced at her watch. "Oh, hell, I have to get going." She gave him a very direct look. "Be good."
He grinned at her and wagged his tail, doing a passable impression of a brainless dog.
She cocked her head sideways. "You know, you look like you, when you do that."
He made a mock lunge forward at that with a growl.
"I'll see you later." She went into the other room, told Fred goodbye and gave him a kiss, then left.
Fred gave Bosco an uncertain look, then went back to watching his hockey game.
With a sigh Bosco flopped down on the floor in front of the couch to watch the game as well. Soon Fred was shouting back at the TV, unselfconsciously, and offering Bosco his opinions on the stupidity of plays. It felt nice to have company and to have company that was treating him perfectly normally. Maybe this wasn't going to be the total disaster that he had been thinking it was.
Then he noticed the glance from Fred. Fred quickly turned his attention back to the game. It was difficult but Bosco kept from muttering. Or growling.
Fred kept watching the game, kept talking to both it and Bosco in as normal a tone as he ever talked to Bosco. But every once in a while, there was that glance. Bosco had the sudden urge to cross his eyes and stick his tongue out at the man at the next look.
The next time he glanced over, he found Bosco staring back at him. Fred flinched slightly, then gave him a defensive look. "So what? You think I'm used to having werewolves in my living room?"
The look Bosco gave him clearly asked, "Are you?"
"I mean, when Faith told me... I figured it was a joke, right? Trying to get me back for something -- or you." He shrugged. "Tell you the truth I didn't really believe her until you... you know." He gestured towards the hallway bathroom.
Yeah. He knew. Seeing is believing.
"You, uh... need anything? I know you can't talk and all, but Faith said I was to, um," he trailed off, his face growing slightly red.
Bosco just sat there, not helping.
"So you need anything?" he asked again.
He paused just long enough to make Fred uncomfortable before shaking his head.
Fred nodded quickly, asking, "You'll let me know?"
Bosco nodded once then laid his head back down on his paws. He heard a relieved sigh.
END CHAPTER THREE
chapter three
It was really, entirely too early the next morning when he woke to the sound of knocking. He groaned and rolled over, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away.
The knocking continued. Peering out from under the blankets, he realised the sun was up -- had been for a few hours.
Entirely too early to be awake.
"Go away," he yelled, pulling a pillow over his head.
"Bosco?"
It was his partner. *Again*. Swearing under his breath he got up, grabbed his robe and headed to the door.
She was knocking again as he reached the door. "Bosco?" she called again, then he heard the keys jangling.
"I'm coming already!" He jerked the door open before Yokas could unlock it.
She looked startled, when he got the door open; for a moment neither of them said anything. Finally Yokas asked, "Can I come in?"
He stared at her for a moment, feeling awkward. "Sure," he said shortly stepping back to let her in.
"So." She seemed at least as awkward as he felt, not moving past the entryway.
"If you're coming in, come in already." He turned and headed for his kitchen, feeling in desperate need of caffeine.
"Bos," she said as she came after him, then stood at the threshold of the kitchen. "I'm sorry."
He turned and looked at her surprised. "For waking me up?"
She shrugged, but said, "For last night." She grinned slightly. "I'm not sorry for waking you up."
"Didn't think so. You want some coffee?"
"Sure." She waited, watching as he began to make a pot.
Neither of them spoke until Bosco was handing over a mug of coffee to his partner. Then he said, "There's nothing to be sorry for." He paused. "Well, maybe the dog crack..."
"Dog crack?" She gave him a guileless look and took a sip of her coffee. "That was your own fault, you know. You should have told me you were staying home to turn into a wolf."
He felt his lips twitch. "My mistake."
"So, tonight and tomorrow, same thing? Then you're back to what passes for normal, for you?" She seemed calm, asking her questions casually. Bosco figured if he didn't start telling her more she would just ask some of the thousand questions she had and he'd have to answer, or hedge, anyway. Might as well answer and hedge, upfront.
"This is normal for me." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, what do you want to know?"
"Have you always been a werewolf? Or did one of your dates bite you?" she half-grinned.
"Yes, I've always been a werewolf and it's none of your business about what my dates have done to me." He grinned back.
"Good; I really didn't want to know." She tilted her head. "So were your folks werewolves?"
"That's generally the way it works."
"So you really were raised by wolves?"
"For three days a month anyway." He sat down at the table. "And I was very cute as a cub."
Her eyebrow raised. "You have pictures?" Her tone was eager -- a tone he had long ago learned to be wary of.
Bosco snorted. "Yeah, right, like I'm going to show them to you."
But that told her all she needed to know. "That's OK; I can call your mom."
Great. He made a mental note to visit home and "lose" the old photo albums.
She opened her mouth to ask another question, then stopped. Curiously, she reached out and scratched his head. Right behind the ear. He felt his eyes start to close in pleasure before sense kicked in and he pushed her away. "Yokas!"
She just laughed.
"Geeze, keep your hands to yourself!"
"I just needed to know if it would work." Setting her coffee mug down, she gave him a slightly stern look. "Bosco...."
He knew that look. "No," he said, holding his hands up defensively.
"You're going to tell me that you've never once gotten into trouble, being here alone?"
"Nothing I couldn't get out of," he hedged.
She folded her arms, and continued to look stern. "Before you changed back in the morning?"
Bosco opened his mouth, then closed it again under his partner's glare.
"You're coming over to my place tonight."
"Yokas-"
"From now *on*, Bosco. Or I'm going to sign up to work a K-9 unit three nights every month."
"Fred and the kids are just going to accept your partner turning into a wolf?"
She shrugged. "Fred gets along with my mother. This is nothing." With a sly smile she added, "The kids will love it."
"I bet." He sighed. "What -- did you promise them a dog or something and this is your way of wriggling out of it?"
"Five o'clock, Bosco. My place."
"Yok-"
"Don't argue with me or I'll come over here and drag you there, myself."
Looking into her eyes, there was no doubt in Bosco's mind she was serious and he had a sudden image of her pulling him along on a leash. "Fine," he grumbled, giving in.
With a satisfied nod, she picked her coffee mug back up and took it to the sink, rinsing it out before setting it on the dish drying rack. Bosco finished his coffee with another gulp, then handed his empty mug to her. She was halfway through rinsing it as well before she stopped, gave him a glare and returned the mug.
He gave her his most winning smile. "It was worth a try."
"I need to get back home," was all she said. "I'll see *you* tonight."
"Yeah, yeah." He muttered just loud enough to be heard by pushy partners.
She was almost to the door before she stopped. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Werewolves are really aliens from another world? You're secretly a libertarian?"
"Yokas, please. Me, a libertarian? Who would believe that?"
"Who would believe you read Anne Higgins?" she countered.
"Well, only when I sprout fur."
"So you turn into a libertarian on a new moon?"
"You found me out. Are you sure you want me around your kids?"
"They'll manage. They're tough kids. Besides, I like exposing them to people less fortunate than themselves."
"Hah hah. Very funny. You sure you're not in the wrong profession?"
"Like what, social work?"
"I'm surprised you didn't say dog catcher."
"Don't you have a license?" she asked, surprised. She frowned, slightly. "Does this mean you don't have your rabies shot?"
Bosco resisted the urge to bang his head against the kitchen table, but just barely. He'd just *had* to say that. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Other people to annoy?"
"You're right, I have to get home." Her tone made it sound much less concilatory than her words implied. She stopped, though, with her hand on the door. "You'll be there. Five."
He glared but acquiesed grudgingly. "Yeah, right, whatever."
There was a part of him, however, that warmed at his partner's concern and how quickly she seemed to have adjusted to this new aspect of his life. Not that he would ever admit it though.
This time she just nodded, then simply let herself out.
*************
It was ten 'til five. Bosco stood in the hallway outside the door to Yokas' apartment. He had, after promising half a dozen times to show up, almost decided not to. In fact, he had been well on his way to staying home when his partner had called his place at 4.15. She and he both knew it took almost half an hour for him to drive to her place from his.
She hadn't said anything -- she hadn't needed to. Bosco had felt immediately chastised in the way only his mother and police captain had been able to do before he was partnered with Yokas. Thus, here he was, standing in the hallway, about to spend the night with people who before today had had no idea what he was.
And he was going to be what he was, in front of them. He should have told Yokas just how awkward he felt, being on display like this. Maybe she'd have let him get out of it.
No, probably not. She'd just talk him into it, again. It wasn't like he'd gotten into *serious* trouble, on his own. Very often.
And it was never *that* serious. Except the time he'd had to call a friend of his folks' to come over since he couldn't very well call 911.
He sighed, and raised his hand to knock on their front door. If he'd breathed a word of *that* one, he'd be over here every full moon for the rest of his life.
Fred was standing there, looking as nervous and awkward as Bosco felt. That cheered him, immensely. "Come on in." Fred stepped back, waving him in.
"Thanks," Bosco replied as he walked by the man and into the apartment.
Fred closed the door behind him, and then headed towards the kitchen. He was obviously in the early stages of preparing dinner. "You, uh, eating with us?" Fred asked.
"Depends on when it'll be ready."
"Half an hour." He started, slightly, apparently realising how close to moonrise that would be. "You, uh, don't eat when...?"
"Not cooked meat."
Fred looked startled. "Oh. I could... I mean, I haven't started cooking it yet."
It was weird, Bosco reflected, to be talking with the man like this. Normally they barely tolerated each other -- Bosco enjoyed needling him and watching him simply deal. Now, though, they had to be polite -- without Yokas around to referee. "Um, thanks, but I'm... um.. not very hungry."
Fred nodded, looking relieved. Before either could realise they had to think of another topic of conversation, Emily and Charley came running in. "Dad, dad!" They stopped short when they saw Bosco.
"Uncle Bosco? Whatcha doing here? Gonna have dinner with us?" Emily asked in rapid succession.
"Umm.. something like that," Bosco answered, glancing at Fred. Hadn't Yokas told them about...?
He was going to kill her.
Fred just shrugged, unhelpfully. But he didn't answer his daughter's question. "He's staying the night, sweetheart. Remember?"
"Oh..that's right. He's sleeping over. Can he read me the bedtime story?"
Fred gave Bosco an amused glance. "Of course, Emily."
"Cool! He can read me the next chapter out of my fairy tale book." She grinned and bounced.
"Uhm..." Bosco said intelligently.
"You need to finish your homework," Fred reminded her.
She sighed dramatically, "Yes, sir." Then she wandered back to her room as if doom itself was awaiting her there.
Fred smiled, apologetically. Then Charley, still standing at Bosco's side, tugged at his hand. Bosco looked down at the boy. "Come watch cartoons with me." Charley said, tugging again. "Wanna ask you something."
"What?"
"Come on." Charley dragged him into the living room.
The TV was on, animated images flickering past. Bosco recognised the show and grinned. Charley had been watching his face and grinned back before pulling him over to the couch. "I love this show," he admitted. It was on in the late mornings, on another channel so he watched it a lot, while getting ready for work. He could see that he had gained a measure of respect for that.
"Cool, Uncle Bosco. I wanna ask you about the wolfy stuff." Charley cut right to the chase, "Are you really gonna turn into a wolf? How come? Does it hurt and get all icky like that one movie? Do you like to howl? What about--"
Bosco restrained a groan. Yes, he was definitely going to kill his partner.
"Does that mean you're changing now?" The boy looked positively delighted.
Ignoring the boy wasn't going to help, though -- soon enough he'd be changing, and then he wouldn't... Bosco smiled to himself. He wouldn't be able to talk. When was the moon rising again?
Twenty minutes, surely he could divert the boy that long. Fortunately, the cartoon would still be on for 15 minutes. On the other hand, he found at every commercial break Charley had more questions.
"Do you get fleas?"
"I'll be right back," Bosco said, getting up and going into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He stood there, staring at his reflection in the mirror for five minutes. They didn't know how long it took, he told himself. They wouldn't know he was hiding until he *did* change.
There was a knock at the door, "Uncle Bosco? Does the fur itch? Does Mom need to get you a collar or something? Can I take you for a walk?"
Emily's voice joined her brother's. "Is he changing? Uncle Bosco? Are you changing now?"
The boy's voice came through the door, "I think so. It's been real quiet. No growling yet, though."
Not that he didn't feel the urge to, but that had nothing to do with him changing. He was running out of time to stall. Part of him was relieved -- the other part was *not* ready to go out there and be seen.
"Do ya think his fur the same color as his hair?"
"I dunno. Is he locked in and can't get out? He's been in there forever. At least one cartoon already."
"Charley? Emily? What are you two doing?" Bosco heard Fred calling out, and walking down the hall towards them.
"Nuthin, Dad. Just waiting for Uncle Bosco to come out and be a wolf for us."
That time Bosco *did* groan. It lengthened, involuntarily, as the change began. He quickly stripped off his clothing, then soon found himself on all fours.
He heard the distinctive thump of an body being pressed up against the door, "It's happening! I heard him yowl or something."
Bosco looked at the door. Now or never. How long could he hide in the bathroom? The tile couldn't be that cold to sleep on....
"Uncle Bosco?" came Emily's hesitant voice. "I gotta go."
"Me too." Charley chimed in.
Faintly he could hear Fred, "Yeah, Uncle Bosco...me three."
Rolling his eyes and thinking up new and painful ways in which to get back at his partner, Bosco nosed the door open. And glared at the three people standing there.
There was a stunned silence then Emily stepped back. "Big teeth." Bosco just turned his head towards her. She examined him critically. "I like your face," she declared.
In spite of himself, Bosco found himself grinning at her. She giggled, then pushed her way past, into the bathroom. He looked up at Fred and deliberately yawned.
"Grandma, what big teeth you have."
Charley looked up at his dad and giggled. With as much dignity as he could manage, Bosco pushed past them and went back to the living room.
Dignity was tested when Charley clambered after him -- Bosco was only a bit taller than the child, and the boy seemed to be entranced by his new playmate. Climbing onto the couch and flopping down, Bosco gave him a "What?" look.
Charley climbed up beside him, half-lying on him. "You're cool, Uncle Bosco. Can I take you to show and tell?"
Bosco shook his head.
"We talked about that, Charley," his dad stuck his head into the room. "Remember? You can't tell anybody."
Charley looked disappointed, but nodded.
Giving in to an impulse, Bosco licked the boy's face, making him giggle. What the hell. The kid wasn't that bad. Charley grabbed him around the neck, hugging him tightly.
Which would have been fine, if he wasn't being strangled.
It was probably a good thing he couldn't speak -- he suffered in silence throughout suffocating hugs, fur pulling, and being lain on, for the rest of the evening. He had never been more grateful to hear the words, "Okay, bedtime!"
From the look Fred gave him, he knew his gratitude was not unnoticed. Charley tried tugging him towards the bedroom, though. "Can't he sleep in our room tonight?"
Bosco was sure he wore a look of horror at the suggestion.
Of course, Fred wasn't being entirely helpful. "If he wants to, Charley." The boy cheered, though his father continued, "But you gotta remember he ain't used to going to bed this early. You can't expect him to wanna go to sleep now."
"But-"
"Don't argue, Charley."
Bosco shot Fred a grateful look.
"Can he stay with me until I fall asleep?" he tried.
And if he was in there would the kids ever fall asleep? Or just keep tortu- playing with him?
Fred scooted his son down the hallway. "You get ready for bed. He can come in for a few minutes." Fred shot him a questioning look, to make sure he didn't mind.
Too much. He sighed and shrugged. Yokas was definitely going to owe him big.
He was lying on the couch, waiting for the kids to get ready to be tucked in, when the front door opened. Yokas.
"Hon?" she called out, as she came in.
"In here," Fred called back.
Bosco raised his head to look at the doorway, but otherwise didn't move. He saw her walk in, see him, and stop. "Bosco--" she began in a stern tone. Then she shook her head. "If you shed on my couch, you're vaccuuming it tomorrow morning."
He stuck his tongue out at her, then deliberately scratched in such a way to shed the maximum amount.
She muttered something about the things she had to put up with, and went into the kitchen. Fred headed after her, stopping briefly by the couch. "They're, uh, ready for you in there. Don't keep them up too long, OK?"
Oh you can bet on that. The sooner they went to sleep, the sooner he could have some peace and quiet.
Both the kids were in bed when he came into the room, and they both sat up, bouncing, at the sight of him. "Are you gonna sleep with us?" Charley asked excitedly. "There's room for you on my bed!"
He settled on the thick rug on the floor between the beds. He wasn't a fool. It would be a lot easier to sneak out if he wasn't on the bed. Not to mention there was less chance of getting kicked down here. Or huggle-squeezed out of air.
Or -- the excuse he had from Fred which he could use if anyone asked... not that he could answer anyhow, but it was a good answer regardless -- it would be less likely to keep the kids awake all night.
Charley and Emily hung over the sides of their beds. "You're a really big wolf," Emily said.
"He's the biggest I've ever seen!" Charley added in an impressed tone.
Bosco snorted. Somehow he doubted the city-bred boy had seen many wolves for comparison.
With the air of the more knowledgable older sibling, Emily echoed Bosco's thoughts. "You've never seen *any* wolves."
"Have too, at the Bronx city zoo on my class trip." A little pink tongue came out and made a defiant gesture.
She rolled her eyes. "Those don't count."
"Whynot?" He ran the phrase into one word.
Bosco rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to put his paws over his head.
"Because those are *regular* wolves. Not werewolves. Werewolves are always bigger than wolves."
"And how would you know? You read a book or something?" Charley's fingers reached towards him, trying to touch his fur. He shifted, moving out of reach. Which only moved him into more into Emily's.
"I know all about werewolves," she said, haughtily. Bosco caught the guilty glance she sent him knowing that he, of course, would know if she were wrong. But her brother didn't know that.
"So tell me. Tell me. Tell me!"
And there wasn't much he could do about it, given that his vocal chords were not capable of speech in this form anyway.
"They only change during the full moon, which means he'll be here tomorrow night, too." She ticked each Werewolf Fact off on her fingers. "They can only be killed with silver bullets," she added, then fell silent, thinking.
Bosco sighed. He wished that was true.
"So? Everybody knows *that*."
Except the werewolves, Bosco thought.
Charley's leg was now dangling over the edge of the bed. It wouldn't be long before they were on the floor with him.
"I bet you don't know they can't stand garlic," Emily said. She'd scooted a little closer, towards her brother -- and hence, towards the floor.
Bosco considered vacating the premises before he ended up with the two kids trying to strangle him again.
"No spaghetti tomorrow for dinner then." The little boy's gaze drifted from him to the door to his sister. Clearly debating whether it was worth getting trouble for.
"No spaghetti?" Emily frowned for a moment. "No garlic bread, either." She slid onto the floor and wrapped an arm over his neck in sympathy. "Poor Bosco."
That did it for Charley. He was there an instant later. Only the boy grabbed him around the middle since his head was already taken.
Oh, he was gonna get Yokas for this. He wasn't sure how or when, but he would get her.
"OK you two, back in bed. NOW!" Yokas added sternly, when the children got their protesting faces, but before they could actually whine. "Bos, you better leave their room else they won't get any sleep."
"But Mom we were just--" Charley hushed at his mother's thunderous expression. "Yes, ma'am."
Emily climbed into bed with equal disgust, pouting as much as she dared. With a grateful sigh, Bosco climbed to his feet and made his escape.
"If we're good, can he sleep with us tomorrow night?"
"Pleaseeeee?"
Yokas gave her kids a measuring look. "How good is 'good'?"
"Ultra special super good, Mom." The boy answered quickly.
Oh no. He was not going back in there. They couldn't make him.
"We'll even clean our room!" Emily said, earning a dirty look from her brother.
"And take out the trash." Charley upped the ante, getting a glare back.
"Uh-huh. Tell you what, you two clean your room tomorrow, and take out the trash, *and* do what your father tells you without talking back, and he can sleep in here tomorrow night."
What? Nope. No way. It wasn't going to happen.
There was a long pause while the siblings debated it silently between themselves, then in chorus they answered, "Yes, Mom."
"Good." She sounded pleased with herself. After they'd left the room and she'd shut the door firmly, she looked down at Bosco. "Don't worry," she said quietly. "They'll never manage to do all three."
Bosco just glared at her, making a note to have a discussion about "things you do not do to your partner when he's a wolf" in the morning.
"What?" she asked with exagerated innocence. "Hey, if they *do* manage, I'll owe you one! They haven't cleaned their room without arguing for five days beforehand in months."
He just continued looking at her steadily. Projecting with all he was worth that he wasn't a bargaining chip.
"Oh, like you don't already owe me a big one for doing the reports last week?" Apparently she could still read his mind.
Okay. So maybe he did owe her. But not this big.
"And the week before? And when I told Masters that you weren't the one who--"
Bosco winced.
"So I think you could suffer a couple hours or entertaining my kids." She gave him a look. "They really aren't that bad."
If he had been in human form he would've just raised an eyebrow at her. Somehow he still managed to convey that impression.
She whapped him on the top of the head. "You're one to talk. I have to live with them." Then she glanced at her watch. "Oh, hell, I have to get going." She gave him a very direct look. "Be good."
He grinned at her and wagged his tail, doing a passable impression of a brainless dog.
She cocked her head sideways. "You know, you look like you, when you do that."
He made a mock lunge forward at that with a growl.
"I'll see you later." She went into the other room, told Fred goodbye and gave him a kiss, then left.
Fred gave Bosco an uncertain look, then went back to watching his hockey game.
With a sigh Bosco flopped down on the floor in front of the couch to watch the game as well. Soon Fred was shouting back at the TV, unselfconsciously, and offering Bosco his opinions on the stupidity of plays. It felt nice to have company and to have company that was treating him perfectly normally. Maybe this wasn't going to be the total disaster that he had been thinking it was.
Then he noticed the glance from Fred. Fred quickly turned his attention back to the game. It was difficult but Bosco kept from muttering. Or growling.
Fred kept watching the game, kept talking to both it and Bosco in as normal a tone as he ever talked to Bosco. But every once in a while, there was that glance. Bosco had the sudden urge to cross his eyes and stick his tongue out at the man at the next look.
The next time he glanced over, he found Bosco staring back at him. Fred flinched slightly, then gave him a defensive look. "So what? You think I'm used to having werewolves in my living room?"
The look Bosco gave him clearly asked, "Are you?"
"I mean, when Faith told me... I figured it was a joke, right? Trying to get me back for something -- or you." He shrugged. "Tell you the truth I didn't really believe her until you... you know." He gestured towards the hallway bathroom.
Yeah. He knew. Seeing is believing.
"You, uh... need anything? I know you can't talk and all, but Faith said I was to, um," he trailed off, his face growing slightly red.
Bosco just sat there, not helping.
"So you need anything?" he asked again.
He paused just long enough to make Fred uncomfortable before shaking his head.
Fred nodded quickly, asking, "You'll let me know?"
Bosco nodded once then laid his head back down on his paws. He heard a relieved sigh.
END CHAPTER THREE