Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground. Beta assistance from TJ4ev and Whimsyfox enables (most of) my grammar to pass muster for Hal. Reviews are love.


When Allison arrived home it was to all of the downstairs lights on and shining for themselves. Hal's boots were by the door, smelling sharply of shoe polish. They must have made it back from the Hebrides then, she thought, momentarily relieved. The house also smelled of supper, seasoned and comforting, and her stomach gnawed. Allison set her shoulder bag down on a barstool and headed for the kitchen, but it too was empty. The washing up was laid out to dry, and a note in Tom's scrawl caught her eye. She retrieved it from under a magnetic domino on the fridge.

Allison -
Supper's in the fridge. I'll be out for a couple hours tonight with the pack. I'll explain when I get home, or you can ask Hal. Alex and him are back.
Love,
Tom

Allison set the note down on the table and cast her hearing. The house was quiet. Maybe Hal & Alex had gone for a walk. Idly, she opened the fridge and pulled out the tupperware of leftovers. She was thankful he had saved some for her, but wished he had taken the time to explain more in his note. She removed the lid and grabbed a fork after switching the tea kettle on, then sat at the table. She wanted to tell him about Vinnie and her theory that the Lobisomem may have killed him. She wanted to know what Hal and Alex had found out from the werewolf they went to see. She wondered what Rook's department was doing about the Bermondsey bombing. Their household had been crossing paths like supernatural ships in the night the last couple days, and Allison honestly felt left out.

All too soon, her fork scraped bottom on the potato curry. The change was coming and her appetite had increased, along with her senses. She had wanted to go to the woods with Tom this month, but with extra werewolves in town she probably would be resigned to the basement again. She was glad that Honolulu Heights had a safe place to transform, but ever since she had learned how Tom did it, her inner wolf had been pacing. Almost as if once she knew it could run free, that was all it wanted.

The sound of water coming to a boil caught her attention and she rose to make a mug of tea, placing the empty tupperware and fork in the sink. She had coursework to pursue, but nothing urgent this evening. Maybe if she devoted some time to her supernatural research project, she could make a little more sense of the Lobisomem as a group to discuss with her housemates when they returned. Then maybe she could formulate a response to Vinnie clever enough to sleuth out more information from him.

Allison took her tea with her when she left the kitchen. Stopping briefly to pick up her shoulder bag before heading upstairs, she noticed that Hal's keys were in the dish on the bar. So her flatmates were home. Eagerly, she headed upstairs. Before she reached Hal's landing however, she slowed at the faint sound of a whisper of fabric, and a soft moan. Allison sighed, then crept past to continue to her room. She had already interrupted them once recently. As eager as she was to speak with them, she could wait.

Reaching her room, she pulled her laptop clear and set it on the desk. She needed to see if there was a pattern, and for that, she needed to see. She opened her computer files, but then glanced at the brown portfolio folder tucked into the corner of her desk. In it were all of the printouts and clippings from her room at home. She glanced around and frowned. Each of the walls in her room now was broken by something. Wardrobe, door, window… For what she had in mind, she would need space to spread out.

Decided, Allison gathered up her tea, the folder and some tape from her desk, then headed back downstairs. Tomorrow she would print out the pertinent articles from her computer, but tonight she could at least see what she had.

The dining and living room shared much of the same problem of open wall space as her room, with one exception. Allison set her materials down on the table, and glanced around to be certain. She opened the folder and began to spread the clippings out, quickly sorting the werewolf reports. As she faced the wall opposite the dining table, the palm tree mural glowed back at her. She taped the first clipping right over the most prominent frond.


Pockets of light pooled from windows, the sounds and smells of supper quietly peppering the street, but between shadows, the neighborhood was still. Mike Nave stood outside of Honolulu Heights, same as he had done for many nights not so long ago. The only difference now was that he was not alone. As the sleek sedan pulled up behind him and parked, he remained where he was, gaze up at the the house that had so completely changed his life.

"Is McNair back yet?" Always bluntly down to business, his boss asked, shutting his car door. Nave shook his head.

"Not yet," but as he said it, the sound of running footsteps could just begin to be heard approaching swiftly from down the block. "Sure you okay on your own?" Nave asked as Rook started up the walk.

The blonde man paused, then nodded. "Yorke has started to trust me. We'll see about tomorrow."

Nave nodded once, then faded back to the shadows.


Tom bolted up the walk. He had to tell Hal - he had to tell Allison! He had to -

He caught the hint of a familiar scent and Rook stepped into the light, hovering just outside the front door, his grey suit and posture impeccable as always. Tom came to a swift halt. The blonde man smiled at having surprised him. That was twice today! He was off his game, to be sure.

"Mr. McNair, so nice to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Tom's tone came out more confrontational than he meant, past polite. Was Rook sneaking into their house now too?

"I was hoping to have a word with yourself and Mr. Yorke. May I join you inside?"

Tom looked Rook up and down, considering, then glanced towards the street. He didn't see any other members of Rook's department lurking about, so he was probably here alone. Tom couldn't think of a reason not to invite Rook in since he was human and all. And it would be impolite to find out what he wanted while standing here on the stoop. Tom shrugged, "Yeah, alright."

Allison was seated at the dining table when they came in, face alight and eager for Tom, then concerned at the sight of their guest. She stood and crossed the room towards them.

"What's going on? What happened? When I got your note -"

"Is Hal still home?" Tom asked, quickly interrupting Allison's stream of questions.

"Well, yes," she answered with a little hesitation, glancing once more to Rook.

"Hal!" Tom shouted towards the stairs. Turning back to Rook, he tilted his head, curious. His department wouldn't have been able to get close to the Route without being sensed, but apparently, Rook knew he wouldn't have to. Remembering his manners Tom reluctantly asked, "D'ya want for tea?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Rook answered but remained standing stiffly in the entry. Alex appeared next to the sofa in the living room and her eyes immediately widened at the sight of Rook.

"What the hell is he doing here? He follow you home?" She asked Tom. He didn't think Rook could have followed him on account that he was already here, so he just shrugged. She disappeared again.

At Rook's questioning look Allison said, "that was just Alex. What are you doing here, Mr. Rook?"

Before he formulated an answer, the floorboards creaked above and Hal's footsteps descended the stairs. "Most of our colleagues ring before dropping in, Dominic. Especially at ungodly hours," he said as he joined them in the foyer barefooted and with damp hair. Alex came to take her customary lean against the bar.

"Hardly. It's barely past nine," Rook scoffed, straightening his already perfect posture, but a gleam played at the edge of his eyes like this was a shared joke.

"Mr. Rook you must be here for a reason?" Allison prodded, too curious to restrain herself.

"Most astute Miss Larkin," Rook answered with a complimentary smile. "Tom has just returned from a most historic meeting."

"How'd you even-?" Tom started then shook his head. "Cor' you knew. Nevermind."

"I was hoping to speak with you on the matter. And since you are the only Types we have worked with on this, I thought it best to discuss together, in person. Please, forgive the intrusion," he added, meeting Hal's gaze.

"Fine, if you must. But not in the foyer." Hal held an arm out towards the dining table, "Please, sit."

Alex looked between Hal and Rook then sighed. "I'm gonna just go and make up some tea. Looks like you'll need it." She gave Hal a pointed look then headed to the kitchen. She stopped before leaving the room, however, and cocked her head curiously, making Tom glance at what had given her pause. News articles were posted in a widening cluster over the blue beach mural, some connected with red lines of string. Since Alex & Hal had been upstairs, this had to have been Allison's doing. Tom thought that maybe it was for one of her school assignments, except Alex raised an eyebrow and shot a look back at Allison. As the ghost caught her eye, Allison cleared her materials off the table and said, "You had better make a pot."

Alex shrugged then pushed through the kitchen doors, making them swing. Rook sighted the display as well, his eyes flickering only briefly to note the ghostly movement of the doors. He perused the wall with an examining glance, then sat down across from it. Allison followed, taking the seat next to him. Tom was behind her carrying an extra chair. He set it down then took the seat next to Allison.

"S'for Alex," he said, feeling it necessary to explain himself to their guest.

Hal pulled the chair out next to Rook further than necessary, then sat at a slight distance. Tom noted that his friend made the blonde man nervous, his blue eyes sharply darting at Hal's proximity. Rook tried to hide it, folding his hands casually to rest on the table while he returned his gaze to the mural.

"What 'ave you been up to Allison?" Tom asked, knowing he sounded overly loud, but unable to contain himself when facilitating conversation.

"I am familiar with many of these cases," Rook stated, perusing the wall. "Though some, I am not, remarkably." He turned to face Allison. "You did this?"

Allison bit her lip, in rare shyness. Tom knew her research of supernaturals is what brought them together, but he hadn't realized she was still pursuing it all. She glanced at her wall of articles, then took a deep breath. "I've been gathering stories for some time now, trying to find clues about us. First, it was all in an attempt to find the one who gave me this," she raised her shoulder, indicating her clawed scars. "And then, just to learn about our world. The connections. If there were a Pack somewhere. Just how, exactly, the curse was carried. If there were a cure, perhaps." Mr. Rook had raised an eyebrow but Allison forged ahead, "my question still stands you know. About accessing the Archive?"

"What are your intentions? To write a thesis?" he asked her.

"Knowledge can be an end in its own, Mr. Rook. Tonight however, I have been trying find a connection between your Lobisomem and the current gathering in Barry."

"Most remarkable," Mr. Rook uttered, looking a little surprised.

"You did not, however, come here to query Allison." Hal prodded.

"Indeed, Mr. Yorke." Rook answered. He turned his inquisitive gaze back to Tom, who held himself deadpan under Rook's scrutiny. "You met them," he declared. "You know who is involved."

Tom looked blankly at Rook for a moment, wondering if he could stall. "What do you mean 'who' is involved?"

"Who is rallying? And to what end? I'm sure you understand the significance."

Tom pursed his lips together, wondering if and how much he should tell Rook. He had wanted to tell Hal and ask him what he should do, since Hal usually had a pretty good idea about these things. He hadn't anticipated Rook being alongside for the process. Hal seemed to trust him though - enough that he had agreed to help by traveling to the Hebrides. "Milo," Tom stated then slid his gaze to Hal.

"Snow's henchman?" Hal huffed. "Interesting."

"Yeah. He's pulled a bunch of werewolves together and is planning for something on the full moon… Though I don't think he's the leader."

"What makes you say that?" Rook asked, leaning in towards Tom as Alex returned with the tea. Rook kept his composure despite the floating tray, even as she levitated it to the center of the table. She took the empty chair next to Hal and leaned in, setting her elbows on the table.

"Milo, as in that big guy with the Old Ones?" Alex asked Hal, who answered her with a small nod.

"Well," Tom paused, looking for the right word to answer Rook's question, then shrugged. "He's no alpha."

At the confused looks from Rook and Alex, Hal elaborated for Tom. "Milo's a second. He is always working for someone else, you mean."

"And he used to work for the Old Ones?" Allison asked to clarify, surprised at this development.

"Yeah," Tom nodded. "He's a right bully, but he only seemed interested in saving his own skin. So there's got to be someone pulling his chain."

"Did he give any indication of who that would be?" Rook asked and Tom shook his head.

"He played the part though. He talked all grandly of the revolution - of it being our time. That the vampires -" Tom paused and looked to Hal, who remained encouragingly impassive so he continued. "The vampires had tried to expose us and it was time for retribution. Werewolves are coming together, Mr. Rook."

"Did he direct you to somewhere to go for transformation?" Hal asked.

Tom furrowed his brow. "Yeah, he did actually. Those who want to be involved are all to meet inside the Pleasure Park." Hal and Rook exchanged a quick glance, the blond man's mouth hardening into a line.

"But that's right in the thick of everything - there are shops - and houses just yards away!" Allison interjected.

"I know that, and they know that. It be the point. The werewolves want to take over Barry - on camera."

"The park walls will hardly contain them," Hal shook his head, disbelieving. "How could an entire group be stupid enough to expose themselves like that? They'll draw a mob within an hour. Or less."

"Cuz they think they'll draw the vampires too is why."

"They won't. The vampires will toast their demise. If anything, this seems to be more and more of your problem - not ours." Hal looked pointedly at Rook, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You are correct that this is very much my problem. Mitigating potential casualties by removing the civilians from the area is certainly something we can do. For now. Afterwards however, it will be the problem of all supernaturals. But each one of you has the potential to keep this problem from occurring at all." He paused, then looked to Allison. "I'm curious if you found a connection with your research, Miss Larkin?"

Allison straightened in her seat, then tucked an errant curl behind her ear, caught off guard by Rook's question. "Not exactly from my research, but yes. I believe I have."

"Oh?" Rook tilted his head and raised a curious eyebrow.

"Does the name Vinicius de Rocha Batista mean anything to you?"

Rook's brow furrowed with a momentary puzzled expression, then his lips parted slightly. "The Brazilian anthropologist? We had our eye on him, but his claims aren't taken seriously."

"Well you didn't keep your eye on him long enough. He's dead," Allison stated bluntly, letting her words sink in before continuing. "I think the Lobisomem killed him. He closed in on the Pack somehow, and they must have staged his automobile accident."

"Wait - who is this Batista fellow?" Tom asked.

"Vinnie. I had been looking into finding your pack for you," Allison answered Tom, meeting his questioning look. "Before we knew what the Lobisomem were up to. I knew how much it meant to you, if I could find out there really was a pack out there. Vinnie is - was, a professor who had been studying the mythology of the area."

Tom beamed, reaching for Allison's hand, "That's brilliant! You have an in with the Lobisomem? Except… how you been talking to him if he's dead?"

"Same way you talk to me," Alex stated bluntly. "He's a ghost."

"Oh. Ghost, yea." Tom started fingering his placemat. Taking note of the stall in conversation, Hal poured their forgotten tea, offering it around. Tom took a cup from him gladly but Rook declined and Hal held his gaze before keeping the cup to himself.

"He hasn't been forthcoming however," Allison continued. "He's acting like he's still pursuing his research."

"Have you asked him directly?"

"No! Of course not. That would certainly be odd. 'Hi I'm a werewolf and by the way, are you a ghost?' Right."

"You said you found evidence of his demise. Perhaps you should," Rook offered.

"Why do you need us to help you? Don't you have a bloody operative directly with the Lobisomem?" Alex asked. Hal raised an eyebrow then repeated her question to Rook.

"Miss Millar is correct. We do," he answered. "But mysteriously, he claims nothing is amiss."

Rook turned back to Tom. "There weren't any Brazilians present tonight." Rook stated it as fact.

Tom thought about it, then shook his head, "Naw, I don't think so."

Rook regarded Tom, then moved his gaze to Allison. Finally, he settled on Hal. "I would like to employ your assistance. We have already discussed how you may be able to cauterize part of the situation," Rook stated and Hal said nothing, his fingers wrapping around the teacup with care so Rook moved on. "Allison can explore her contact with Vinnie, and Tom, you can act as if nothing is amiss. See if you can gain the confidence of this Milo. We have five days." Rook sat up a little straighter and looked away, seemingly examining their piano. "You have an unusual, but functionary situation here in Barry. I implore you to help us keep it as such," he stated his simple case, and returned his gaze to the table.

"Our unusual situation keeps our lives functionary with little damage to others. The only way to retain that function is by staying out of all this," Hal argued darkly. His gaze, stern and piercing, stared Rook down.

"Unless this group is successful," Rook countered. "Unless Barry becomes the epicenter of supernatural exposure. Something you have already stopped from happening once."

"At a heavy cost," Hal answered.

"There's a training tomorrow. Milo may come," Tom offered, eager to break the tension between Hal and Rook. He didn't know what Rook had asked his mate to do, but it was obvious Hal was reluctant. Tom however, wanted to help. He didn't want werewolves to go exposing themselves, killing and scarring up innocents - not in his town, or otherwise. Allison had said before there would be lynchings and mobs. He didn't want all that. How'd she be able to finish school if that happened? Tom wanted to help - all he ever wanted to do was to help.

He thought of young Begley - so eager for information. So eager to kill his first vampire. Yet maybe all this needed to stop. Maybe they could just go back to ignoring one another? Milo thought they had a way to take out the vampires. It sure would make the world a safer place if they could. But would that mean something would happen to Hal then too? Tom wished he had a way of knowing what they were going to do. Tom wished he wasn't so conflicted. McNair had asked him to stop after his death; to walk away from their so-called war. But war, it seemed, kept finding him.

"Associating with Milo is not a good idea," Hal stated, shaking Tom from his thoughts.

"Naw, but Mr. Rook is right," Tom answered. "Milo half trusts me already. He wants to use me."

"And you wish to be used?" Hal argued and Tom shook his head.

"I want to help. We can't let 'em do this. There'll be mobs and lynchings - like Allison said. And what if they really can get to the vampires? What if they get to you?"

Hal shook his head, his jawline clenching. "There is much supposition and not nearly enough fact in this," his tone was commanding as he turned to Rook. "The debt between us has been paid, and I believe that I have made my stance clear. We all have business to attend to in the morning. You should go." He stood to make his point and Rook followed suit, huffing under his breath irritatedly. A flush of red dappled his cheeks, but he clearly wanted to remain on Hal's good side as he swallowed his argument. Tom stood as well, as he was pretty sure that was what one did in polite situations. Mr. Rook had hardened his mouth again, glancing at him as he pushed his chair in.

"You will call if you find-" Rook started, then stopped himself. "Of course."

He left as suddenly as he had come. As soon as his clipped steps retreated down the walk, Tom turned to Hal. "What was that? You really want all this to just go ahead and happen?"

"I told you," he answered tersely, referring to their earlier conversation.

"That prophecy is over and done. So's what's the matter?" Tom pressed. Alex leaned her head into her hand, elbow on the table while her eyes followed Hal's agitated pace around the living room.

"Yeah Hal," she sided with Tom. He was acting ridiculous.

Allison turned back to the mural with her clippings and little lines of string, excited, "What if we really can help? I can email Vinnie tonight and -"

"Do what you must. I have to go," Hal left them to return abruptly upstairs. Both Allison and Tom looked to Alex as if she could interpret him.

She just shrugged. "Rook may not act like it, but he's still a human. It gets to him after a wee bit."

Tom furrowed his brow, realizing she meant Hal's self-control. He remembered how rough their trip to London was on him and how eventually, the exposure was just too much and they had to force him outside to fresh air. Rook however, was just one person. They certainly seemed argumentative with each other though.

"If he doesn't want to or can't get involved that's fine. But Allison's right. If we can still help then maybe we should. Let's webmail this Vinnie guy."

Allison nodded, gathered up her things and they all headed upstairs. She showed them her exchange with Vinnie on her laptop. Then, after several wordier attempts, they crafted a simple response.

Vinnie,

My close encounter was closer than I let on. I now have to make some very special monthly arrangements. In trying to find out more about you, I came across some disturbing news, which led me to believe your encounter was closer than you let on, as well. I am afraid of the methodology that the Lobisomem employ to contain their secrets. I'm also afraid they no longer wish to retain those secrets. Here, word of their kind is spreading away from myth, to news.

If you have any insight, it would be appreciated.

Allison