WARNING: Spoilers from the CH short story Wolfsbane and Mistletoe / Gift Wrapped below.

"What else is on your mind?" Quinn asked me, thrusting gently as he did, trying to distract me.

We were lying in bed facing one another, still completely naked from the night before. He'd been teasing me while we talked, his cock sandwiched between my thighs so he could occasionally move like he was now, reminding me what we could be doing instead.

I moaned long and low, enjoying myself, but equally knowing the most difficult discussion was still ahead of me. I said his name, trying to make it sound like a warning, but it came out as a plea instead.

"Mmm?" he asked, leaning over to kiss my collar bone.

"Stop it," I ordered him unconvincingly, making disappointed noises when he did as I said.

"What else did you want to ask me?" He sounded serious, suddenly, figuring this must be important if I'd delay making love to talk about it.

I stilled myself too, searching for the right words. "Uh, what Eric said about 'baser instincts'... are there things you need, that I'm not giving you? Tiger things, I mean. We hardly ever have sex the way tigers do, the tiger part of you must be pretty unhappy about that..."

"Huh?" He was really puzzled. "What do you mean, we never do it the way tigers do?"

"Well, I'm usually on top... and we're usually facing each other... and you don't hold me down or anything..."

He stared at me for a second to gauge whether I was serious or not, but even when he realized I was, he still couldn't help laughing at me. It was a deep, booming belly laugh, and after about thirty seconds of it, I was about ready to bite him.

"Oh, babe," he tried to calm himself, "that's just classic. I really need to get you some better books about animals, or something."

"But Amelia showed me videos," I protested. "On that web site with all the stupid clips. The female lies down on her belly and the guy gets behind her and holds onto her neck to keep her still... there were really disturbing close-ups and everything."

"Yeah, there are humans who really get off on watching animals mate," he rolled his eyes. "Sick fuckers." He found it bizarre that so many human males found the sight of a tigress' vagina far more appealing than he did, figuring they must have some sort of death wish.

"But isn't that what you need? The tiger part of you must be so unhappy, never getting to do it the way he wants."

"Babe, the tiger part of me is just as happy as the human part! Can't you feel that?"

"I guess so, but -"

"Look, tigers and tigresses only do it like that because it's about the only way their bodies fit together. Humans are incredibly lucky to have bodies that fit together a bunch of different ways, most animals don't. But weretigers... we pretty much only fuck the way tigers do on a full moon when we can't shift back. The rest of the time, we like having more options."

I couldn't help but breath a big sigh of relief.

"You were worried I'd try to fuck you in tiger form," he guessed correctly, horrified I could think that about him, but already wondering whether this was about someone else. "Did Alcide knot you?" he asked, his voice low and serious. Murderously serious. "I didn't see any scars, but with all the vamp blood you've had..."

"What?"

"When you were together, did he ever lose control and shift partly?"

"When he went after the guy that staked me... no, that's completely not what you're asking me, is it?"

"No, I mean, did he ever hurt you with his... anatomical differences?" He was trying really hard not to offend me with something.

"OK, what on earth are you talking about?" I still had no idea. "Knot me? What does that even mean?"

"Did you ever get stuck together? Did he ever kinda swell up while he was inside you so -"

"Wait, you think I had sex with Alcide?" I snapped, finally starting to catch on.

He looked really confused, and I could 'hear' why: Alcide had warned him off me, telling Quinn that he and I were engaged and were, quote, 'just going through a rough patch'. Quinn had asked around and quite a few people told him it was true, so he believed it, eventually figuring we must've split up.

"Oh no. No no no. I never had sex with him," I ranted, pulling away from him. "Never, ever. He only dated me because Eric made him, and the whole engagement thing... we needed an excuse for being at a bridal store where someone was murdered because we couldn't just say we were there to check on his Packmaster's second and that was all we came up with and I know it was dumb but the cops bought it, well kind of bought it, so it got us out of trouble... but no. Just no. I never, ever had sex with him. We kissed once, but it never happened again 'cos that bitch of his locked me in that car trunk and he told her we had sex and then got back together with her after she just... and she was engaged to this wereowl the whole time! She wrecked my effing wrap because he took me to her engagement party, and he bought me a nicer one to replace it, but seriously? I do not have sex with men who want their psycho ex more than me. Never, ever. I've only had sex with one person who's actually alive and that's you. Ever. Well, except..." my rant finished abruptly, all the fire suddenly gone out of me.

"Hey," he soothed, pulling me close again and cuddling me. "You can still say I'm the only one and it's still true, you didn't choose what that son of a bitch did to you. You don't have to count anything that happened without your consent."

He was one part furious that Alcide lied to him, one part furious about what Niall arranged for another fairy to do to me... and one part very, very happy that he was the only living lover I'd ever had. It pleased him far more than he thought it would, that I was all his in that way.

"I'm really glad too," I murmured, confusing him. "That you're the only one," I clarified.

"Yeah, I guess you can feel how pleased I am that you weren't ever with Alcide," he admitted sheepishly. "It's not like I wish you were a virgin or anything sick like that, he just has a reputation and I really hoped he never hurt you that way, I figured he mustn't have if you were willing to date a shifter again, although maybe he did and you knew it was just wolves that do that and you didn't know about tigers, so -"

"You're making no sense."

He finally realized I had no idea what he was talking about, and immediately regretted bringing it up, figuring he could've left me completely in the dark about whatever it was. When I glared at him, he knew I'd just heard him think that.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I don't usually try to keep things from you, it's just, all the unpleasant stuff about shifters... I keep clear of it all myself, and I'll keep you clear of it too, I promise, and I don't want you freaking out and leaving me because other shifters do some really messed up stuff, because I'll kill anyone who tries to do any of that shit to you." He was deadly serious; I could feel that.

"John, what are you talking about? What did you think Alcide did to me?" I asked.

He really wasn't looking forward to explaining this, I could feel that. "OK, you know how every species has anatomical differences? That you only really fit properly with your own species? Like male cats have the barbs I told you about, which work great for female cats, but I'm told just hurt awfully for other species which aren't built for that. Well wolves -"

"Wait, the females like it? You said it hurt and they turned around and tried to claw out the guy's eyes right afterward?"

"Yeah, they do that too, but... you saw videos, right? You saw how they get mad, but then often kind of fall over in a heap and writhe around on their backs for a while, with a look on their face like, 'OK, I forgive you now'?" He looked almost pleased then.

"Yeah, to let the sperm get where it needs to go," I confirmed, repeating something the narrator said in one of the videos Amelia showed me.

He tried really hard not to burst out laughing, knowing it would piss me off, but simply couldn't stifle it; my words were really that funny to him.

"What?" I snapped.

"Babe, when you're having a really intense orgasm, are you thinking, 'this will help move sperm into my body'?"

"Uh, no. Is that what that rolling around thing the females do is? Kitty orgasm?"

He just nodded.

"But the males don't do that. Or in the videos on the internet they didn't, anyway, they just kind of looked pleased and snarled a bit..."

"No, we're like just about every other species, the girls get to have more fun," he shrugged, but I could feel he was more than a little jealous.

"Sure," I snorted, not believing that at all. I listened to people's thoughts all day, I knew for a fact that wasn't true. At least, not for humans.

"Females can have more intense orgasms, and more of them, in practically every species around," he insisted. "If you ask scientists about it, they'll tell you females evolved that way because pregnancy and childbirth are so dangerous, it has to be incredible so they keep wanting sex despite the risks. I don't know, I think having all those muscles you need to push out cubs helps, too."

"Cubs?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, babies," he apologized, making a mental note to use the human term instead of the tiger one when he asked me about... he stopped himself mid-thought, thinking, Stop being such a fucking shifter, you only got her back three days ago, you can't go asking her that yet, you moron. Then he noticed I was looking at him funny, and realized I'd just 'heard' all of that. He wanted to hide under a rock.

"Uh, you know about shifters and kids, right?" he asked me sheepishly.

When I shook my head, he was suddenly convinced I was about to run away screaming, and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"John, I'm mated to a shifter, I think I have a right to know about shifter mating habits." I said it gently, but he could hear the cast-iron resolve in my voice.

He sighed loudly, knowing there was no way out of this now. "Look, shifters... we all get obsessed with having kids for a while. We go around convinced we want at least ten, and get into all sorts of trouble... man, the number of times I've gotten claws broken over -" he stopped short, thinking, OK, that's not really relevant right now, is it? "But I wasn't mated at twenty-three like I should've been, and I've had years to accept that I wouldn't get to have any of my own, and at this point, even having one some day would be a huge bonus for me... hell, even having Hunter around is amazing. And I know it's way too soon to talk about this, so please don't freak out at me, but if you ever want to... I'd be so, so honored... and if you wind up adopting Hunter, I promised I'd help you and if you wanted to make that official... even that would be an honor."

"But he's not yours," I interrupted, wondering why he would offer to raise someone else's child.

"I'm a shifter," he shrugged, then realized he'd have to give me a better explanation. "Uh, you know that shifter couples can only have one kid together? I mean, that only their first-born can shift?" He was relieved when I nodded. "Well, there are plenty of couples who have a dozen kids who can all shift. Only the eldest is genetically the father's, but unless his mate cheats on him, all her children are considered his."

My brain went into total meltdown. "But she's having kids that aren't his," I stammered, "so she must've cheated."

He suddenly felt like he'd been backed into a corner, realizing he had no option but to spell out exactly how different shifters' morality is to humans'. He was really worried, knowing I was Christian, figuring I'd probably conclude he was evil after this.

"No," he disagreed, gritting his teeth as though it hurt to even say it, "to shifters, if her mate or his Packmaster are present when the child's conceived, it's his."

I stared at him in horror. "He has to watch while she..." I was so upset by the idea, I couldn't even say it. "Oh, how awful."

"I'm told it's not so bad if he can join in," he explained.

"Oh." I said, suddenly realizing what he meant. "Oh."

"But that's only how it happens if they choose a progenitor and do it privately, pack rituals aren't like that. Then he just has to watch, or has to fuck someone else while she's... I couldn't do that. I couldn't just pass you around a pack and..." he stopped talking, utterly enraged at the thought of his mate - me - being fucked by other people, knowing how it would tear him apart to see that... even though he knew that as a shifter, he wasn't supposed to feel jealous at all. Then he thought of the look I gave him when he talked about his past, and realized how much worse it would be if I ever saw or heard him with someone else (outside his memories, of course). He knew that if he ever made me look at him that way, he would never forgive himself.

"I'm so glad to hear that." I rubbed my face against his chest, telling him in tiger language that I'd never hurt him that way.

"I told you, I won't ever put you through any of those pack rituals." He took my face in his hands and tilted it up until he could look into my eyes. "I would kill every other shifter on earth before I'd let them hurt you like that." He meant it.

He kissed me gently and let me go, hoping I could still love him despite what he was. I did.

"So the rituals... the women must really hate them?" I asked weakly.

He just sighed. "Packs go to a lot of effort to break them in so they'll be OK about letting anyone fuck them. But still... if they're having sex with someone they find attractive, and he knows what he's doing and tries to make it good for them, it can be great. If they know and like each other, it can even be meaningful. But it doesn't matter who you're with, or how good they are... if you know that as soon as it's over, you'll have to submit to someone you hate, someone who repulses you... and they're gonna do things you don't like, because they can... and they'll either deliberately hurt you, or they just won't care if it's good for you or not..."

As he talked about it, memories of various things he'd seen at pack rituals over the years washed through his mind; a 'greatest hits' collection of the absolute worst things shifters do to one another sexually.

"Think about something else," I pleaded, when I could bear to see no more. "Please, don't think about that around me ever again."

I was close to tears over the things he'd had to witness, and his own rage at being powerless to stop so much of it just made it worse. For the first time, I realized he hated most other shifters. People like Sam who ran alone were fine in his eyes, but anyone who belonged to a pack was immediately suspect.

Thankfully, as soon as I asked, one of those doors closed in his mind, and all the awful images were gone.

"I'm sorry, babe," he murmured, planting soft little kisses all over my face and neck. "I didn't want to tell you... I wanted to protect you from all that... you won't ever have to attend any rituals, and I'll never let anyone do those things to you... I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered, my eyes squeezed shut, "and I want to give you everything you need, but if that's what shifters -"

He cut me off with a long, feral growl. "You think I want any of that? You think that's what I like?" he demanded, suddenly angry.

I interrupted him by licking the side of his neck, grooming him as another cat would to calm him down. It worked instantly; the veins that stood out of his neck in rage immediately subsiding as my tongue ran over them.

"I know how you feel about it," I murmured, licking him again. "I felt how upset you were that you couldn't stop it. I felt how ashamed you were to be a shifter, each time you saw other shifters doing those things." I had licked my way up to his cheekbone then, his skin salty against my tongue. "You're a good man, John."

He wrapped his arms around me and purred for a few moments, calmed by my words and my tongue and my skin against his.

"We're not all like that," he reassured me. "The better Packmasters... they make sure nobody has to do anything they don't want to, and they drum it into everyone that mating's supposed to be enjoyable, so you don't get selfish assholes sawing away at some woman's body like a wannabe porn star, jabbing her cervix 'til it bruises and then boasting that she could barely walk afterward, as though that's a good thing."

I giggled at the mental image, thinking of some of the things I'd seen in women's thoughts over the years.

"It's not funny," he grumbled. "Doing that to someone who's still gotta fuck twenty other people afterward..."

My giggles stopped immediately. "OK, I am never, ever doing any of that," I told him, a bit too forcefully.

"Good," he grinned, pulling me closer to him. He saw my confusion and realized he'd have to explain. "Tigers like a mate who can keep them in line, remember?" he purred in my ear. "We want a woman all to ourselves for as long as possible, and we'll work damn hard to satisfy her so she won't want to fuck anyone else. We like a woman who bosses us around, tells us what she wants, insists that we give her -"

"But full-time tigers just get on top and hold her down once she submits to them and -"

He was laughing at me again. Deep, roaring belly laughter filled the whole room, and I was so sick of it that I nipped his shoulder.

In a way, biting him accomplished exactly what I hoped it would: he stopped laughing immediately. It didn't have quite the effect I wanted, though: instead of resuming a serious conversation, he was now serious about something completely different. He was giving me a look that begged me to roll on top of him, to push him onto his back and fuck him, to grind against his face as I screamed his name.

Oh, boy, I thought. This really wasn't what the web sites and videos Amelia showed me said about tiger mating habits...