"So it turns out," Dean began around a mouthful of food, "That those four guys in the park were part of a local gang."

Mack picked up her glass and sipped at the drink, "How did you find that out?"

"I have a buddy who was one of the uniforms on the scene," he replied, "He recognised one of them from his beat, or at least what was left the guy. From the sounds of it they were about to execute some sap who had been skimming profits and whatever else before something ran through them all." He watched her for a moment as she looked around the alfresco surrounds of the small café that was their usual hangout when they met up for lunch once a week, or whenever work schedules allowed it. She was quieter than usual and slightly distracted, had been since she showed up, "You ok, Mack? You seem a little subdued."

"Just thinking," she answered vaguely before elaborating at his expectant expression, "It's Roman. He seems... different, for lack of a better word."

"Different how?" His brow arched a little, feeling that protective streak he had raise its head.

"Not the different you're thinking of," she assured him after spotting his suspicion, "It's hard to explain."

"Try me," Dean replied, leaning back in his chair and lacing fingers together as his hands rested on his stomach, "You know I don't like it when you hold out on me if it's important."

"I'm not even sure it is important." Pushing around a cherry tomato with her fork Mack tried to put her thoughts in order before giving voice to them, "He seems... aloof, like he's hiding something. I've tried to get it out of him but he refuses to tall me a damn thing. That's not like him at all. At first I thought it was simply because of what happened, that he was trying to find a way to deal with it, but I'm starting to think it's more than that. He's so tired during the day that he sleeps for most of it and when he is awake he's restless, especially at night. I'm not sure but I think he's been sneaking out while I'm asleep."

"You think he's cheating on you?" he asked bluntly. Her initial response at the idea was to stab the small fruit she had been playing with sharply, juice and seeds spurting over the plate from its piercing injury.

"I thought that at first but I don't think so. It's something else, and I have a feeling I'd like the answer even less than that particular outcome." She sighed and rubbed her eyes, "Or maybe it's just all in my head, too much free time on my hands. Maybe I should cut my vacation time short and go back to work."

He snorted in partial disbelief, "You landed a jackpot that will last several lifetimes over and you want to go back to pulling people out of whatever bloody mess they got themselves into?"

"It's not always like that and you know it," she replied, "And besides, just what do you suggest I do?"

He shrugged, "Travel? See the world? Make a bucket list? Open a home for stray animals? Just something that doesn't involve fuel for nightmares. You were always the one with the brains, learn something new; I know I would."

It was the biggest thing that had always frustrated him when it came to her. She was damn smart but thanks to that asshole of a father she hid it, even now when there was no longer any real cause to. Throughout both elementary and high school it had been a balancing act to keep her grades at an average level when Dean knew she was capable of so much more than C's and the occasional B, especially when it came to languages. He sometimes wished he had that sort of natural affinity for picking up a foreign tongue but to him it all looked like a jumbled mess.

Glancing at his watch he took note of the time and after draining the remnants of his drink from the glass signalled the waiter for the cheque. When it arrived she plucked it off the table before he could get it, giving him a warning glance when it looked like he was about to protest and paid it without fuss. Dean slipped on a leather riding jacket and grabbed a helmet from the empty chair that had been at their table as they got up to leave, casually shifting it from one hand to another like it was a ball as they made their way to where his motorbike sat. After giving her a hug he threw his leg over the seat and looked up at her with the slightest hint of concern.

"Promise me you'll think about it at least."

"Alright, if it gets you to stop bitching."

He simply grinned at the good natured complaint, "I bitch because I care."

Slipping his helmet on and tightening the strap under his chin, Dean brought the machine beneath him to life with a rumble, "Catch you around, Mack."

She waved him goodbye as he slapped down the oily coloured reflective visor and pulled out into the lazy flow of traffic, quickly disappearing around the corner when the light turned green, then headed towards her car. She sat there for a few minutes, fingers idly drumming over the top of the steering wheel as she thought. Perhaps Dean was right, it would be nice to not have to see any more mangled bodies when they got the really bad calls. But at the same time it wasn't all gruesome doom and gloom. Sometimes the job wasn't so severe and the people who were coherent enough usually really appreciated the help. Sometimes they'd be on stand by at a game or other sporting event which was always fun, especially when no-one was injured. That last scenario made her smile a little as she shook her head, thinking of a certain football player who feigned an injury solely so he could hit on the paramedic while her partner was off getting a drink, not letting up until said EMT agreed to go on a date.

So just where did her suave, smooth Defensive Tackle go, and who was the man taking his place?

After a trip to the store Mack came home to find Seth coming down the porch steps, offering her a smile and a small wave as she pulled into the driveway.

"Nice to see one of you is up during the daylight hours," he said, "I know he's not the most sociable person after waking up but god damn he is moody today."

"What happened?"

"Nothing serious," he replied, waving it off like no big deal, "Just him being a grumpy ass is all. I'm sure he'll be OK once he gets some coffee in him... I think." Suddenly he dropped the nonchalant, cheery pretence, concern creeping into dark brown eyes for his buddy, "Is he? OK, I mean."

"Physically he's fine. More than fine, even." Mack ran a hand through her hair wishing she could offer Rollins something more, not to mention herself, "We just have to give him time to sort himself out."

"I guess you're right." Seth scuffed his shoe along the poured concrete, "Going to a shrink would be out of the question, huh? I think he'd rather have teeth pulled than do that. Shit, who'd even believe it to begin with anyway?"

It was a rhetorical question, though it hung in the air with an increasing weight as the silence dragged on until Mack decided to be the first to break it.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Leia thought you two might want to come and join us for dinner tonight, it's been a while since we the double date thing," he answered as he helped her get the groceries from the back seat, "I asked Mister Happy and he snapped me an affirmative, though I think it was more to get me on my way than anything else." Mack looked over at him and he shrugged, "Like I said, he's moody."

He followed her inside and deposited the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter before saying his goodbye and left just as Roman emerged from the hall. He could smell the faintest trace of Ambrose around her and that spike of possessive, irrational jealousy hit him yet again. It shouldn't be there, the only other scent she should be carrying was his. With a bit of effort he managed to shake the feeling off, the beast inside largely dormant right now and making him feel inexplicably tired during the day. He absolutely hated it. It felt like he had been at constant war with himself for a week now, slowly wearing him down and he wasn't confident it was a battle he could win against such a primal, domineering force.

His eyes followed Mackenzie as she moved from one end of the small kitchen to the other putting things away and the animal stirred slightly, his hands curling into fists as he pushed it down. She wasn't an object to claim, own and dominate by any means necessary like it longed to do. She was a person, his partner and equal. His eyes squeezed shut as the love of the man and lust of the beast clashed momentarily, Roman managing to come out on top of the internal exchange. For now, at least.

He felt the soft warmth of her fingers against his face, his eyes snapping back open at the contact. Curiosity and a little bit of frustration stared back at him as he attempted to stuff his inner conflict back into a corner. What if she figured out what he was now, despite his best efforts to hide it? Would she leave him? Again the two personalities clashed; the man couldn't bare the thought while the wolf would never allow such an act of insubordination. A cold spike of fear lanced his gut at a stark realisation; it would make him kill her first before ever letting her go, and anything else that got in its way.

The stoic mask slipped for the briefest of moments, horror surfacing in his eyes as the imagination conjured up vivid scenarios before he wrestled it down. He knew she had caught it when the well worn expression of concern appeared again. Her arms slipped around his neck and pulled him to her, his own wrapping around Mack's waist as his head rested between her neck and shoulder. He inhaled deeply the scent of her, her warmth pressed up against his, the softness of her skin, hands stroking his back with a soothing, comforting edge.

"Mack..."

"Hmm?"

He hesitated, unable to find the right words to give voice for the confusion in his own mind. Only one thing stood out in his haunted mind, offering him solace and strength in the emotional storm.

"No matter what happens," he finally murmured against her skin, "I love you."

She could hear the subtle strain of desperation, reinforced as his arms constricted a little more like she would somehow slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. His words confused her; no matter what happens? What could he possibly mean by that? For the countless time she wished he would let her in but had a growing hunch that whatever had changed he just didn't know how any more. Her own embrace tightened around him, trying to offer him whatever reassurance she could. She placed a kiss on the side of his head, her breath warm as it whispered against his ear.

"I love you, too."

Roman had forced himself to stay awake for hours before finally caving in and falling back asleep late in the afternoon. As a result the animal wasn't as strong as it had been the previous nights, though the cost was both leaving sides of his self exhausted which lead to him being shorter with people and his surroundings than he normally would have been.

He sat brooding over something so minute that the waiter had apparently done to offend him, or perhaps it was just the boy himself and the way he would steal the occasional appreciative glance at Mackenzie when he thought no-one was paying him any attention. As a result there was a somewhat uncomfortable aura that rested over the three other people seated at the table. His attention broken from the predatory glare into the young man's back when she rested her hand on the hard muscle of his thigh under the table.

"Relax, hon," she said quietly, "I know the boy is staring, but that's all he's going to accomplish."

He seemed to be placated a little by the statement, the tense set of his shoulders dissipating somewhat. At least it no longer looked like he was going to get up and spear the oblivious kid through the wall.

"So what do you think of the place?" Leia asked in an attempt to kick-start the conversation that had faltered on and off for the better part of fifteen minutes. Roman really wasn't making it easy in the social department.

Leia was the daughter of a local celebrity chef whose family owned several restaurants across the city, which was how Seth had first met her years a go, having worked up through the ranks until he was now a damn decent chef in his own right. She had not only followed in her mother's footsteps but was now branching out on her own, the establishment in which they waited on dinner her very own. A lot of the menu options were Seth's very own creations and none had ever been disappointed by the selection. It had taken a lot of time and hard work to get it off the ground but it all paid off, The Gilded Rose quickly became one the most popular places in town.

"I like it," Mack replied, "It almost has that nineteen twenties appeal to it, but with a twist somewhere to make it uniquely your own."

Leia smiled a little, she had always had a slight fascination with the high end prohibition era aesthetic. A lot of the larger fixtures were antiques from the time period, giving it that little bit more credit of authentication. Even the staff uniforms were a throwback, looking a little like a theme party could break out easily enough if given half a chance.

"I'm glad, and I can't wait to hear what you think of Seth's new creation."

"Come on, babe. Won't their opinions be a little on the biased side? Friends are supposed to say nice things regardless of the actual truth," he interjected, the rising smirk undoing his attempt at modesty.

As the conversation slowly but surely got on track the tension began to abate, though for the most part Roman merely kept quiet as he kept an ever vigilant eye on his surroundings. When the food arrived Seth got his inevitable praise. As the night wore on Mack could sense the underlying aggression building in Roman again and opted to call it a night before he did something irrationally drastic.

He started to calm again once they reached home, though there was still that restless energy about him that had set upon him each night like a switch had been flicked with no way of turning it off. The hour was late and sleep starting to call, so Mack wasn't fully aware of just how far the switch had gone until she turned around, jumping a little to find him standing mere inches away when she went to take off her heels. He drilled her with the same smouldering gaze that he had the morning after the emerging beast inside took over for a test drive. His hands slipped around her neck, finding the discreet zipper that ran the length of her back and pulled, leaving the dress to pool on the floor while keeping Mackenzie of balance with a series of those brain scattering kisses.

He was distinctly more aggressive than he normally was, like he had been sexually starved for months on end. He backed her up until the back of her knees bumped into the mattress giving her no choice but to crawl backwards over the covers as he kept advancing. Her retreat was halted when he seized her thighs and dragged her back to where he knelt at the foot of the bed. He licked and bit his way up the inside of her thigh until he reached the delicate barrier of silk and lace. The animal made a noise of approval at the scent of its mate's arousal, dragging the material out of the way to probe at the sensitive flesh beyond.

Her brow furrowed at the definitive, and very inhuman like, sounds Roman had just made but had little time do think any more on it when he began to consume her. Gone was any trace of his usual slow build up of how he enjoyed seeing how long he could keep Mack balanced on that precarious edge, replaced by nothing but raw, relentless ferocity. Fingers buried deep inside up to the knuckle, hooking them as he stroked at that particular sweet spot while keeping up his intense assault with teeth and tongue. It was a simple matter to keep her pinned down when she was overtaken by the orgasm that hit hard and fast, causing her body to tense like every muscle had locked up as her back arched like a cat and clawed desperately at the sheets.

Dazed and trembling, Mack was barely aware of his weight shifting until she felt the press of his aching erection grinding against her now overly sensitive sex.

"This is what you do to me," he declared before kissing her again, his tongue dominating hers and sharing the taste he had just feasted on. Nipping a trail down her neck towards her shoulder he bit her collar bone then lapped at the mark he left behind.

She wasn't going to lie, that had actually hurt.

"Not so hard with the teeth," she said, but it seemed as if he was either unwilling or unable to do so. When he did it again she rested her hands on his chest in an effort to try and push him off a little. She would have had an easier time trying to push a bus up a hill, he didn't move an inch. When he repeated the performance on her breast she flinched and tried to get out from under him.

"Stop it, Roman."

The beast was displeased with this sudden display of defiance and gripped her wrists, pinning them down with bruising force and growled threateningly as it towered over its mate.

"Mine."

The single word was barely decipherable in the snarl it was spat out in and caused Mack to still completely. She looked up at his face to find something so intimately familiar but at the same time so completely foreign. The body was still Roman but whatever was behind the wheel was most certainly not. It was feral, animalistic; no trace of human reasoning whatsoever. Cool grey eyes had taken on an amber yellow hue, blotting out the whites until they resembled more that of a canine. Was this what he had meant earlier in the day?

She didn't get a chance to think it over as he suddenly thrust, burying himself completely with one swift movement causing her to buck at the abrupt invasion. There was a reason he had always let her set the pace to begin with, but was afforded no such grace from whatever this doppelganger was. Again she tried to put up a fight but it only served to anger the beast, making it bite her again and again, almost enough to break the skin until she gave up the struggle. She shut her eyes tightly and submitted to it, just willing for this bizarre nightmare scenario to end.

When Mack next opened her eyes the sun had already risen, the alarm clock on the night-stand proclaiming the time to be a few minutes past seven thirty in the morning. She felt stiff and painfully sore before the reason why came flooding back with a vengeance. She shuddered.

Chancing a peek over her shoulder she found Roman fast asleep and no doubt dead to the world by now, as had been the way of things ever since they had come back. Fighting several different reactions that hit her at once she managed to slip out from under the covers, freezing momentarily when he shifted but did not wake. When she caught sight of her body in the mirror she began to shake again, covering her mouth at the disbelieving noise that threatened to break through. As quickly and quietly as she could Mack changed into fresh clothes, wincing every now and again while she did so.

Easing the bedroom door open she found Loki on the other side, scrambling to his feet as soon as he saw her and whined. The dog knew something was wrong with his mistress but couldn't understand what. Falling in step behind her he wagged his tail at the sight of the car keys as she picked them up along with her wallet and phone. Within minutes he was afforded the front passenger seat as the car pulled out of the driveway and quickly headed down the street.

Dean grumbled into his pillow at the sound of someone knocking on his apartment door. He elected to ignore it, assuming it was probably just some religious lot trying to sell their door to door beliefs and they'd go away once they got the hint no-one was answering. When it did stop he gave a little sigh of contentment, only to be pestered by his phone.

"Hello?" he answered with a voice husky with sleep.

"Please open the door, Dean."

"Mack?"

"Please..."

Like a sudden shot to the system he was up and all but ran to the door, she didn't sound right at all. As soon as he opened it fifty pounds of dog bailed past and into the familiar surroundings, but that was not what had his complete and undivided attention. She was trembling, looking like she was barely holding it together as she stood on the threshold to his small home. That's when he saw the dark bruising marks around her wrists and a surge of anger and concern rose in concert with one another. He had no words to articulate his thoughts, all he could do was reach out for her.

As soon as Mack felt his touch on her shoulder she half rushed, half collapsed into his chest, silent tears soaking into the black cotton of his sleeveless shirt. Wrapping his arms around her he simply let her cry without a word until she was ready to talk, silently promising acts of retribution to come.

OK, not quite how I originally planned it on going... but I'm pretty much an on-the-fly kind of writer, so here we are.

Let the battle of man versus beast begin!