Of Wolves and Men (Closed for Apollo Wilde and Ask For More)

Her phone remained blessedly silent during the night.

Early morning, and her alarm went off, filling the room with the strains of classical music. For long moments, she groaned, twisted under the sheets, tried anything to avoid the persistent sounds of Gershwin. Giving up, she reached over and turned her alarm off. Shrugging off the blankets, she sat in the middle of the bed, bleary-eyed, before giving a long stretch and getting up.

Sliding down on the floor, she did a series of crunches, push-ups, and stretches before standing up and lightly jumping from foot to foot. It had been a while since she was a street cop, but the morning work out still did a good job in getting her blood flowing and getting her up and moving. She hopped in the shower, came out toweling her hair and going about getting dressed for her day. Today would be a day spent in the office....

It wasn't too much longer before she emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a long sleeve dark green collared shirt and a knee-lenght black skirt and black heels. In her hand she had a pair of flats; they were her back up. It took her a few moments to register the lumbering form on her couch.

Her flats fell from her hand.

For moments, she freaked; breathed heavily, ran her hands through her hair, paced. It took a while for her mind to start working again. After all, a lycan was scary enough: to see one curled up on her couch when a person was there, well....that was a little startling.

Tip-toing (or as best as she could in her heels) closer, she leaned over to gently poke him. It wouldn't take an idiot to know that there was something...not human on her couch. The poking turned into petting - his fur was thick, but soft....like petting a collie. Before she knew it, she had sat down beside him, running her fingers across his head and his ears.

Wayne fell into the deep sleep of the exhausted. There were smatterings of thoughts that passed through his mind but nothing substantial to constitute a dream. Then a gentle feeling started to creep into his brain - a feeling of a soft caress that was slowly prompting him out of his sleep and into the land of the living. It was a comforting touch, one that he enjoyed, and he let out a few grunts of approval.

Slowly his thoughts caught up with him and he remembered where he was. Wayne's eyes shot open and he sat up with a growl, reaching out with his arm to grab whatever was touching him, baring his teeth in response to the perceived threat. When his eyes adjusted to the light, the scared form of Ada appeared in front of him, and he realised that he was gripping her arm. Quickly he transformed back into a human, the fur retracting into his body and muscles softening and contracting.

"I'm sorry!" Wayne exclaimed, as soon as he could speak normally. "You took me.....by surprise. Why were you touching my head like that?"

She didn't respond immediately, and then he saw that he was still holding her arm, although his grip had softened. Letting go gently, Wayne leaned back onto the couch into a non threatening position. The movement made the blanket slip onto the floor, exposing his naked body.

This was the first time Ada felt herself in the grip of someone that she felt, no, knew, that she couldn’t overpower or outsmart. So all she could do was stand perfectly still, doing her best not to shriek or shake. In the back of her head, she cursed herself for being that stupid and letting her curiosity get the best of her. If she had never sat and began to pet him, she probably wouldn’t be in this situation.

It was only when his grip softened that she realized she had closed her eyes in sheer terror. Slowly opening them, she let out the breath that she wasn’t aware that she was holding.

“I....I....I should be the one apologizing,” and she laughed weakly. “You....” She licked her lips nervously. “You looked so much like a dog, and I love dogs, so I couldn’t help myself, and your fur is so soft, and you sort of sounded like you liked it-” her words ran together, tumbled over each other. His keen senses could detect the smell of her sweat, note her raised heart rate. Getting over her fear, she was now just incredibly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that’s probably insulting to say that you look like a dog, but wolves kind of dog, oh God, I’m sorry, I’m doing it again...”

And then his blanket slipped.

And then her eyes -intentionally or not, who knows?- drifted down to his exposed body. Her mouth went dry. A thin thread of lust, desire, wound its way into her sweat and she tore her eyes away, focusing on the ceiling.

“Okay, so...” she licked her lips, trying to focus on the texture of the ceiling, “I need to get to work; I’ll be in the office all day. I guess you’ll do what you’re going to do and I’ll see you when I see you?”

The situation was embarrassing but amusing for the both of them, Wayne sitting in front of her fully exposed, and Ada closely inspecting the ceiling. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit, especially when he noticed her licking her lips, and the desire leaking into her scent. Temptation crept into his thoughts, but Wayne put them aside and pulled the blanket up to save any further blushes.

"Ok its safe to look now. Sorry again about the reaction - and the unintended exposure. I'm not such a cheap date normally."

He hoped a joke would diffuse the situation a bit.

"Keep your phone on you, I might need to contact you throughout the day for information. I'm expecting a busy day."

Holding the blanket around his torse, Wayne stood up, taking care to conceal his manhood. "Again I'm sorry. I should have warned you that I don't sleep as a human. It must have been quite shocking for you to wake up and see a Lycan in your living room."

He edged towards the bathroom.

"I'll just clean up, then I'll be out of your way."

Only when he said it was "safe" did she allow her gaze to drift from the ceiling back down to him. At his lame joke, she chuckled, but it was forced. What a way to start the morning; better than the coffee that she lived off of.

"I'll do my best to keep my phone on me, but I can't always get to it right away. I do have to work, after all," she said, fishing in her purse for something. This wouldn't do. She couldn't just leave her apartment unlocked, but she had to go. The little incident had cost her precious time, and the last thing she needed was to show up late. She had an impeccable record of punctuality and was loathe to come close to breaking it. Besides, she couldn't act like there was anything different going on in her life. That would just call down more suspicion, and that she didn't need.

Well, he was a lycan and resourceful; he'd figure it out, right? "Wayne, I'm going to have to lock you in. I don't have a duplicate key for my place and I've got to get going. I'm sure you'll figure out a way to get in and out if you need to," and she gave him a slight grin before she was out the door, locking it behind her.

Once she was out in the hallway, she let out a long sigh. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. She found herself wistful for the life she had not just a few days ago, even with Wade annoying her. She'd come to depend on those little visits.
________________

Still wound up from the morning, Ada was able to forego her morning coffee, and settled in with ease at her desk. Jackson had gotten back to her - the cause of death was an animal attack. Fan-fucking-tastic. And of course, with the station working the way that it did, in the background the T.V. blared about possible Lycan uprisings; after all, it wasn't like a tiger or a lion had gotten loose that night.

Her job was about to get a lot more complicated. Sinking her face between her hands, she groaned aloud. Her chief was on the air, doing the best that he could to dispel any rumors, and she had to give it to him, he was doing very well - with what he had.

"This is going to make our lives a living hell," said a smoky voice behind her.

"Don't remind me," she said, slowly turning in her chair to face him. Alex was standing behind her, looking as if he hadn't slept in a few days. She balked at his face. Catching her expression, he grinned.

"I've been doing damage control; keeping the press from finding out you're the lead detective on this one has been nightmarish. You know," he paused, his vivid green gaze settling evenly on her, "I actually wondered if you were dragging your feet on trying to figure this one out. You seemed to be looking everywhere but at what you were handling. You'll forgive me for underestimating you - it seems like you're intelligent enough to suspect that this might not be a one time thing, and that you didn't want to go for the most obvious for not wanting to cause a scare. You really deserve that badge."

That's one way of putting it, she thought wryly.

Out loud, she said, "I had my suspicions, but my job is to serve and protect. The last thing I wanted to do was go off on half-cocked rumors and cause a lot of people pain and flare up prejudices. Even if this is a lycan attack, we need to handle it that won't cause a backlash of hate crimes across the board. We may not be where we need to be with relations between us and them, but that doesn't mean we can take giant steps back, either."

As he listened to her, he nodded with a faint smile, his green eyes hooding slightly. He caught the scent of something else on her, something faint...something animalistic. He would have to suss that out later.

He had barely got out of the bathroom when the phone rang. Being locked in wasn't a problem - Wayne had broken in and out of enough places as a undercover officer to earn him a sizeable jail sentence. Upon reflection, he was still a wanted man in some of the small towns he had passed through. The pursuit of Remus was costly to say the least; by the time Wayne had arrived in the city he was mentally and physically drained. Having a hotel and women close by had alleviated some of that, but he still felt on the edge, as if his mind could lose control at any time.

Gerrard's name flashed up on the screen while the phone beeped away. It was early for the dealer to be calling, which was worrying.

"Good morning Tommy!" Gerrard sounded perky, he was obviously a morning person. Which made Wayne hate him even more. "Did I wake you up?"

"No chance Gerrard," replied Wayne, mentally shifting into his undercover persona.

"Good. Listen, plans have changed for today. I need you to meet me in an hour."

"An hour? I can do that. Something up?" Wayne didn't like this at all. Changing plans was never a good sign.

"Not at all!" Gerrard's voice was clear and unwavering. No sign of nervousness. "Just that another meeting has been added to my schedule, and I would appreciate it if you were there. Your 'skills' may come in handy."

"No problem. Just send me the address." Wayne cut the call off.

----

Exactly an hour later, Wayne was standing in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse made of dilapidated brick, broken glass and rusted iron. Graffiti covered most of the walls, and there was a noticeable hole in the corner of one of the roofs. The place looked like a death trap, which made it the ideal place for a clandestine meeting. Following the directions he was given, Wayne found an open door round the side of the building.

As he entered the warehouse, his nostrils flared up with the smell. Why criminals always meet in the most run down places? Would it kill these guys to negotiate in a place that wasn't a rat infested dump? The stench would have been mildly discomforting to a human, but for a Lycan it was strong enough to cause a headache. Wayne took a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration as he adjusted to the environs.

"Tommy!" His eyes snapped open, as he saw Gerrard strolling towards him. Taking in the view, it looked like something out of a movie. Dirty floors littered with broken glass, building materials and paper. The light wasn't as dim as he expected, probably because of the aforementioned hole in the roof. Wooden boxes lay scattered around, with printing on the sides that had faded so much with age the words were barely discernible.

Gerrard was dressed in a sharp suit, as befitting a man who had some money to spend. Wayne had to hand it to the guy, he didn't look like the criminal type, and carried himself in a way that didn't stand out. As for himself, Wayne had chosen a practical look - black slacks, a plain black tight t-shirt, and a loose suit jacket.

"Gerrard. Good to see you again. What are we doing in this shithole?" They shook hands as Gerrard laughed.

"What can I say! At least no one will be watching us here. Come over here." Gerrard motioned towards a derelict wooden table in the centre of the space. Sitting on top of it was a silver briefcase, and two Glock pistols were laid out beside it, with holsters and spare ammo clips.

"I look the liberty of procuring some weapons for us." Wayne raised a questioning eyebrow. "Just in case," Gerrard continued. "Take one."

Wayne picked up the holster and strapped it over his body. He wasn't keen on carrying firearms, but in this case it looked like he didn't have a choice. For good measure he picked up the Glock and gave it a once over, checking the magazine and the action before holstering it.

"You handle that like a pro," Gerrard gave him an approving glance. "Now I want to see how well you can use it."

Before Wayne could question him, Gerrard put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. A door on the other side of the building slammed open, and two large men dragged in a body bag that obviously had someone in it. As they pulled the bag across the floor, Wayne could hear someone shouting inside it, and see them struggling.

"This motherfucker has been getting a bit big headed recently," Gerrard walked over to the bag, which had been deposited a couple of yards away by the two thugs. Wayne gave them a cursory glance - both looked well built, and were packing heat, but didn't look like they could cause him any trouble.

"I need to take care of him......" Gerrard kicked the bag at full force, and Wayne heard the person inside cry out in pain. A chill ran down his spine and inwardly he groaned; that voice was all too familiar. Gerrard unzipped the bag to reveal the prostrate form of Wade.

It was very, very hard to stop herself from shivering as he drew close to her. She licked her lips, counted to ten in her head.

“So, now, it’s time for us to do what we’re making the big bucks,” and she gave him a wry smile. “We need to figure out who did this and why. There’s really no getting around it.” Leaning forward, she tried to put some distance between herself and Alex. After all, sitting this close at work wouldn’t be proper. And if he did have any romantic intentions, he should at least have enough sense to pursue it outside of the work place.

“Fair enough,” he slipped from behind her. The closeness was enough for him to tell what it was that he was looking for, and for the slightest of moments, his green eyes grew hard and calculating.

__________

The problem with her work with Wayne was that it got her somewhere - “somewhere” meaning that she knew for sure that it was a lycan attack - but it wasn’t a place that she could freely talk about. Now that it was announced that it was an animal attack, the next thing was trying to think of a story that would satisfy the press. Problem was, speculation was running wild and there was no putting that genie back in the bottle. She had spent the bulk of her day at her desk, going through old files. After all, she hadn’t gotten her job on looks alone.

“Clarke, in my office!”

Her chief’s voice startled her, and she dropped the file in her hand. With a small sigh about the frayed state of her nerves, she stood up and smoothed out her clothing. “Coming, Chief White.” His office was located towards the back of the station - hardly a walk from her desk.

Chief White was standing with his back to her, his hands folded. They were fat hands, almost childish, and grasped at one another with a sense of deep dread. Closing the door behind her, she unconsciously drew her heels to meet each other as if she were about to salute. Sometimes, coming into his office reminded her of how her parents used to scold her. Funny how even when you’re older, you never quite escape that feeling.

“Clarke, please, sit.” He turned to face her now. The Chief was, numerically, in his mid to late 40s. The job made him look like he was in his late 50s. His face was deeply lined and what remained of his hair was mere white wisps.

“So, as you can tell, we have quite the situation on our hands.” Despite the fact that he looked as if he hadn’t slept in years, he smiled at her. It set her at ease, and she began to smile as well, shaking her head as she sat down.

“The problem is, everyone knows,” and he spoke the word to be underlined, “that it was a Lycan that did this. We’ve got extremist groups breathing down our necks and it won’t be too much longer before the politicians get in on this. I know how you feel about human-lycan relations; that’s why I’m glad that you’re the one that got the call on this one and have been handling it. What can you tell me? Detective Rain tells me that you’ve been in the cold cases archives.”

That...little...

She gritted her teeth into a smile. But of course he would have reported what his partner was doing. That’s what they were SUPPOSED to be doing. But what could she say without giving away the fact that she was working with Wayne? Shit. She poked the inside of her mouth with her tongue.

“That’s true. I was looking for any kind of connection, truth be told. If it is a lycan attack, then why? What may have sparked it? Jackson told me that there were some drugs present, so I thought I’d look into whatever cold case files we had about gang-related drug murders. It’s a far stretch, I know, but it’s all I’ve got to go with for the time being.” She took in a deep breath. The next part was going to be hard - it was something that she had fought so hard not to admit, the part that made her feel like she failed her city. Her fingernails dug into the arms of the chair.

“Sir, it was a lycan killing. There’s no getting around that. Jackson confirmed it. He ran the mauling patterns against old records.” She looked up at him. “This is nothing less than a PR nightmare. We’re going to have to work with the Lycan Council to get this figured out. If we can show that they’re willing to work with us, then it’ll move us closer together.”

Chief White looked at her, and let out a long sigh of his own. “Clarke,” his voice was gentle, “I’m not sure if we can do that. We’ve been divided for decades at this point. Why would they want to work with us? It’s supposed to be separate but equal - each side takes care of their own.”

“Well, we all know how well that worked for us humans. This, our system, it’s broken, Chief. And while it’s horrible that someone lost their life because of it, we may have the opportunity to get something good out of it. And the nasty fact of the matter is, we were dealing with plenty of murders before this even happened. People are more than capable of killing each other without lycans in the picture.”

He sighed again, long and heavy.

“Ada..I’m giving this to you and Rain to make it work. I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but you’re going to have the city against you every step of the way.”

She smiled, but it was small.

The situation was obvious - this was a test. Wayne had to show that he wasn't all talk, and could be relied on if situations didn't go the way they supposed to. It was a standard cliché in the criminal world, but a necessary one.

Wade was already covered in blood, and moaning softly. He looked like he'd taken a pretty serious beating already. Wayne was surprised that it had come this far, but with Gerrard's ambition, some spilled blood here and there would only make him look stronger.

"Looks like you've already taken care of him," Wayne remarked, with an air of nonchalance.

"True," replied Gerrard. "But I left a piece of him for you. I need to know I can trust you when I'm in trouble. Especially since you're new in this town."

Wayne looked around the warehouse. The two flunkies were showing their pistols, letting him know they were ready to take action if he backed out.

"You need to trust me huh?"

Drawing the Glock, he walked up to Wade and shot him once in the chest.

"Is this good enough for you?" He stared straight into Gerrard's eyes, and let off another shot. Wade's body jerked with the impact, and went still.

After the goons had chucked Wade's body into the back of the building, Gerrard had motioned for Wayne to follow him. Outside the warehouse, a Black Range Rover was waiting for them on the sidewalk.

"Get in. We have a busy day ahead."

----

The next two hours passed quickly. It was mostly routine stuff, Gerrard stopping off frequently to distribute product, collect money and hand out a few well placed warnings. Wayne was just there as muscle in case anything went wrong, which it didn't. He was hoping to get a lead on Guardian, but everything Gerrard was dealing was standard street fare. The other disadvantage was that he couldn't leave Gerrard's side at all.

He got a break when they stopped for lunch at a diner. Making his excuses, he went to the bathroom and flipped open his phone to type a quick message.

Wade been beaten up and shot. Needs medical attention. Hospital will find out he's a Lycan

Adding the address, he sent it to Ada.

----

After an afternoon of babysitting his patience was starting to wear thin. They had pretty much stuck to the same routine as the morning, just in different places with different people. The evening was starting to set in when Wayne finally caught a break. They were cruising in yet another ghetto - Gerrard took a phone call that set things in motion.

"One last stop Tommy, and then I'll let you go for the day. But be on your guard - we're looking at some new product and I don't know these suppliers so well."

"No problem Gerrard. I'll keep an eye on them."

Rubbing her temples, Ada took another long sip from her cold cup of coffee. It wasn’t the most appetizing in the world, but the idea of some sort of caffeine working its way through her body was comforting. Every once in a while, she’d switch her attention over from one monitor to another, type furiously, stop, and look over what she’d written. Then, almost like clockwork, she’d grimace and delete a good portion of what she’d manage to get down.

This wasn’t her strong suit.

She hadn’t written any sort of formal press release or anything like that since she was in college, and that was years ago. She’d barely managed to scrape by the skin of her teeth then. Though she was well-spoken, it was mainly through raw talent, not because of practice. Beginner’s luck, maybe? But she had to have something typed up, something to show, something that could be approved.

Her phone buzzing was almost a blessing; grabbing it from her desk, she looked at the text. Her reaction was hard to place. She found it hard to place. She liked Wade; she really did - but how was she going to get this figured out? Where in the nine hells was she supposed to take Wade? Of course they were going to find out that he was a lycan if she took him to any hospital. How was she supposed to find out....

“Urgh...”

She rubbed her temples. It wasn’t like she could just...you know, leave, in the middle of her shift without sounding questionable at best. Maybe she could just slip out for a few minutes...a cigarette break, maybe?

Ah, Jackson! He could help - maybe. He was a doctor, of course, but how would she explain this?

As she stood up and slipped away from her desk, she wasn’t aware of brilliant green eyes watching her.
_________

“Hey. Hey Wade.” She slapped his face a few times, trying to get him to wake up. Well, slapped as gently as she could, keeping in mind the rest of his injuries. Though he was pale, his eyelids fluttered, parted.

“Ada...?” His voice was cracked; scared. Sounded nothing like the man she knew or who gently teased her after long shifts.

“Yeah, it’s me,” and she grinned a little, harder than she wanted to. His injuries frightened her, and the fact that she had no idea how to take care of him made things all the worse. The reality of it was that he may be a junkie and pretty low on the lycan order, but he was still someone that cared for her - and it wasn’t like there was a lot of those in her life. Fighting the tears that burned the corner of her eyes, she struggled to pick him up in a dead man’s lift.

“You’ve got to stay with me, Wade, please....I’m going to do my best to get this figured out...”

Fuck, what am I even doing...

The journey took them into one of the nicer districts of town, a distinct improvement on the ghettos that seemed to be regular stops on a drug dealers route. Wayne was glad to be rid of the derelict stench that generally accompanied the hoods. Eventually they pulled up at the Sheraton, one of the most expensive hotels in the city. He tried to mask the surprise on his face, but Gerrard must have noticed.

"Makes a change huh?" He remarked. "These guys have money to burn."

They exited the vehicle and casually strolled into the hotel. The marble floors and plush settings were a comforting sight. It was a busy evening, which made it easier for them to blend in amongst the guests bustling through the lobby.

"What do you know about these suppliers?" Wayne asked.

"Major players," replied Gerrard. "The Crays are the main gang that handle product in this city. They play fair to a point though - shootouts and dead bodies bring Police attention, something they don't like. If you stay on their good side, they'll reciprocate."

They entered the lift with a few other people, so Gerrard had to stop talking. Thankfully they exited on the 18th floor without any company.

"I've just got into business with the Crays, so they don't fully trust me yet. But this new product they have is supposed to better than anything on the streets right now."

"What is it?" asked Wayne, keeping his tone casual as they made their way through the gold and beige decorated corridor.

"Guardian. They call it that because you get high, but you feel safe. Coke can get you whacked out sometimes, but this stuff, it doesn't fuck up your focus. It's seriously good shit."

The hairs on Wayne's neck stood up at the mention of the newest designer drug.

They stopped at room 1809, and Gerrard knocked on the door. It was opened by yet another identikit heavy with a shaved head and a face that looked like it'd been beaten to a pulp more than once. The suite was everything one could expect from a high class hotel, exquisitely decorated without being ostentatious. They entered into the lounge area - seated on the sofa was a smartly dressed tanned woman who looked to be in her early 40's. Her brown hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head, while her body, in good shape for her age, was clad in blue designer jeans and a simple purple blouse.

"Gerrard, so nice to see you again." She stood up and greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. Her nose was angled and her dark brown eyes sized up Wayne when she disengaged. "I see you have a new friend."

"Always a pleasure Jean." replied Gerrard, a big smile forming on his face. "Tommy's been helping me out recently," he added. "He's proven to be very reliable."

Wayne had to admire Gerrard's demeanour - the dealer came across as approachable and trustworthy immediately, two qualities that had obviously helped him to rapidly advance up the chain.

"That's good for you. He's a damn sight better looking than most of the guys I have working for me." Jean gave Wayne a flirtatious smile while Gerrard laughed.

----

The two criminal masterminds made casual conversation for the next ten minutes, the kind where much is said, but little is given away. Wayne stood impassively on the sidelines, disguising his impatience.

"Down to business!" With those words, the Cray flunkie disappeared into the bedroom, reappearing with a black briefcase which he laid on the coffee table. Wayne's nostrils flared - the scent of Remus was all over it. Finally, he had a lead!

"Have you got the money?" asked Jean.

"Right here." Gerrard handed over a wad of notes, mostly today's takings it looked like. Jean took a few minutes to count them carefully. Once she was satisfied she reached for the briefcase.

"Here's what you asked for." She opened the briefcase to display multiple bags of white powder, before closing it and handing the case to Gerrard.

----

An hour later, Wayne was sitting in a quiet bar across the street. Gerrard had dismissed him once they left the hotel, offering him a ride which Wayne had declined. Opening his phone, he typed another message to Ada.

Am in a bar opposite the Sheraton. Gerrard just picked up a case of Guardian from the Crays which had Remus' scent all over it. Will stake out to see if I can get a lead. How's Wade?

Her shirt was ruined.

It was a trivial thought, true, but anything to get her mind off of the reality of the situation was a god-send. She struggled with Wade, having to slow down as she moved inch by inch, bit by bit, to get him somewhere. She had no idea how to take care of a wounded Lycan; knew nothing about how their bodies worked. Taking him to a hospital was out of the question: they’d know he was a Lycan, know that she was a cop, and that would be the end of any cover that they had. The only person she could remotely trust was Jackson, and that wasn’t saying a whole hell of a lot. She had grown close to the M.E. over the years simply because their paths overlapped so often.

But it wasn’t like she had a choice.

And she had just up and walked out of work as well. That would take some explaining. But now, yes, with Wade’s blood trickling through her shirt and down her torso, she needed to get him somewhere, and needed to get him stable. The only place she could think of was her apartment.

Just great.

Flipping open her phone, she sighed, and dialed. “Jackson, I need a huge favor...”

_____

Her explanation was that she’d gotten a call at work - Wade had been shot and dumped in an alley. “I couldn’t just leave him there, but I’m not sure if he’s just human,” she’d added breathlessly. How else could she explain that he was still alive after such grievous injuries? She knew that Jackson felt the way that she did in regards to Lycans.

“It’s a man that needs my help,” he’d said when he pulled on-scene. “Lycan or not.” His dark eyes found hers, and held them. She gave him a slow smile. Jackson was a few years older than her - pale, with a high forehead and dark hair. He was slim with a slight gut. “But man, it looks like someone did a complete number on this guy.” Few words were exchanged on the ride back to Ada’s place. It had been a small matter to get Jackson the right directions. She called back into work, explaining that she had received a tip from one of her contacts on the street that there’d been a drug-related shooting. She’d jump on the chance, as it was a possibility that it might have something to do with the murder that sparked all of this insanity.

“Jackson called me and told me there was something in the murder victim’s bloodstream that was similar to that new drug I’ve heard about. It’s worth looking into,” she said as she pushed the door to her apartment open. Jackson trailed in behind her, dragging Wade. He couldn’t manage the dead-man’s lift, and did the best that he could with Ada’s limited assistance. Once inside, they immediately took him to the bathroom and ran the tub, cleaning the worst of his wounds. Jackson prepped his surgical tools while Ada gently ran a wash cloth over Wade’s unconcious face.

“This man is a Lycan,” Jackson said at length. “I’ve never had the chance to work on one...funny. I really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. I need to be thinking about saving his life.”

“It’s okay...” she sighed, as she pulled off her bloody shirt. Jackson looked up, and flushed, before looking away.

__________

Hours later, Jackson emerged from the bathroom. Ada looked up from the couch. She had long since changed into yoga pants and a tank top. Jackson flushed again, but gave her a small smile. “He’s going to live. Lycans seem to have some sort of regenerative properties. It’s really amazing...He’s put his body through all sorts of crap, but yet he’s still in much better condition than you or I.”

He sat down next to her. She gently bumped her shoulder against his. “I owe you so much. You have no idea. This guy, once he’s up, has the potential to break this whole thing apart.” She rubbed her temples, leaned back into the couch. “Jackson, I think all of this stuff is linked together. I spent some time in the archives the other day - there’s a strong correlation between a new drug and the recent increase in murders. I just need one more link and I think I’ll have a strong enough case to present to my boss and get the clearance that I need.”

“You owe me, huh?” He had a boyish grin, and even though blood stained his hands and under his nails, it was still charming. Looking at him, she felt her face grow hot. When it rained, it poured, apparently.

“Jackson...”

He turned to face her, his eyes hopeful behind his thick glasses.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Oh, thank God.

Skimming the message, Jackson stood up to wash his hands again in the kitchen sink. Ada typed out a quick response.

He’ll live. Called in a favor and he is recouping at the apartment.

“Tell you what - I’ll take you out to dinner. My treat. I burn water,” she said, with a sheepish smile looking over at Jackson. His face lit up a bit. That made things easier. “I’ll take you up on that,” he added. “I’m going to wash up, and head in. Call me if you need anything else, or if things look worse for him.”

“I will. You’re welcome whenever you need to come by - I figure this is quite the opportunity for you. Who knows - maybe together, we might actually really get a handle on the Lycan situation here in town.”

“Maybe.”

The sky was starting to darken by the time something happened. Wayne's coffee was untouched and tepid - he had taken one sip and almost thrown up from the taste. Making coffee that bad was almost an art form. Maintaining his concentration had been slightly more challenging without caffeine, not to mention the lack of sexual activity in the past 48 hours.

He'd observed all types going in and out of the hotel but no one had peaked his interest at all until now. There were a few old men with young glamorous women hanging off their arms, the occasional rich family, and a number of Suits visiting the bars and restaurants. Not exactly the underbelly of the city. Which is why the two large men with Lycan features stood out immediately. Wayne wasn't close enough to get a really good look at their faces, but the way they walked and carried themselves as they walked through the gold crusted revolving doors made it obvious to him who they really were. They looked suspiciously familiar.

A more inexperienced law enforcement officer might have attempted to follow them inside, but Wayne knew better. Both of them were carrying briefcases, which could only mean they were delivery and collection. Likely dropping off the newest shipment of Guardian and taking the payment. Waiting for them to exit, and following them was a better plan.

------

While the deal was going on, Wayne formulated a plan. Following two Lycans was not as simple as it seemed on paper - their association with Remus meant that they were likely to be trained in various forms of combat and reconnaissance. Not to mention the possibility that they might be high on Guardian too. It was a vexing scenario to be in.

After much deliberation he decided that it was better to track for a while, and if they noticed his attentions, take them out. He was confident in his strength, even with the unknown potential of Guardian.

------

20 minutes later, the Lycans exited the hotel. Wayne had already paid his cheque and made his way up to the nearest rooftop in preparation. Unexpectedly they split, going in opposite directions. They were still carrying their briefcases, no doubt loaded up with cash. Making a quick decision, he went left.

For 10 minutes Wayne tracked, following one Lycan from above as he weaved through the sidewalk traffic on foot. There was no attempt to find any other forms of transport, which made Wayne suspicious. Surely Remus wasn't hiding out in the expensive part of town? It would be a lot harder to remain undetected from the authorities.

He got his answer a moment later. As he prepared to jump to another building something appeared in his peripheral vision. Turning to face it he saw the other Lycan watching him. It was a trap.

Inwardly Wayne cursed as he realised what had happened. The two had deliberately split up so that they could ferret him out. They must have picked up his scent in the hotel suite.

"Wayne Long. It's been a while."

As soon as Wayne heard the voice he knew. The Lycan looking straight at him was Solomon, a trusted lieutenant from Remus' days as an Enforcer.

"Solomon Burk. No surprise to see you here. Didn't the beating I gave you last time teach you a lesson?" Wayne smirked as he moved closer to Solomon, assessing the surrounding. The rooftop was large enough for a fight, and the edges were raised, which lowered the dangers slightly.

"Lesson? It just made me angrier." replied Solomon. He was a beast of a Lycan, easily 50lbs heavier than Wayne, broader, and a few inches taller. His black skin helped to conceal a number of scars on his face, framed with a large jaw and forehead that was befitting of his size. His ears stuck out, which had unsurprisingly earned him the nickname of 'Frankenstein' amongst the Enforcers, rather ironic considering their own associations with the undead in human mythology.

A noise from the right side of the rooftop caught Wayne's attention. The second Lycan vaulted over the side, landing neatly on his feet. As he stood up, Wayne growled in recognition. "The Eagle."

Pete Caraway had been the first person Wayne had met in the Enforcer Academy, and they had immediately hit it off. They shared unique qualities - able to control their transformations better than any other of the rookies, and they were fierce opponents in combat training. Wayne had finished top of that class, while Pete was second. Once they graduated Pete has been assigned to Remus, but had never shown any inclination toward the ideals of Lycan supremacy, which had made it all the more surprising when he had joined Remus' side in the uprising.

"Wayne you fucking bastard! It's been a while." Peter flashed his trademark smile. His thin eyes and sharp nose were the reason he was called 'The Eagle'. Build wise, he was similar to Wayne.

"Not long enough Eagle. I still haven't forgotten your betrayal." This situation was getting tricky. Wayne could handle one, but there was no chance of him taking down both Solomon and Pete without getting some serious injuries.

"Betrayal?" Pete shrugged, "I never betrayed anyone. You're the one who fought against us."

"I did what was right." Wayne didn't take the bait. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

"Whatever." Pete dropped his briefcase on the floor, and started to take off his jacket. Solomon did the same.

"You were the strongest on that day, but now we have something else." Pete drew a small wrap of Guardian out of his pocket.

"I never pegged you for a junkie Eagle," Wayne smirked. "If you think that shit will help you take me down, then you're in for a fucking surprise."

"Oh this isn't for me, Mr Head Enforcer. I can assure you I'm not the same Lycan you fought in the war." Pete tossed the wrap to Solomon.

"But before this happens we have an offer," Pete held his hands up, seemingly in a gesture of surrender. "Remus knows you're here, and he wants you to join us. Your strength hasn't been forgotten."

"Join you?" Wayne couldn't help spitting in surprise. "You gotta be fucking kidding. Remus can go fuck himself. I'll die before I let him take over this city!"

Pete lowered his hands and smiled. "I told him you'd say that." Then he clicked his fingers, a signal that promoted Solomon to open the wrap and pour the contents down his own throat. "Well, it's time for me to go. If you don't fight it will hurt less." His hand went into his pocket again, and he drew out another wrap of Guardian.

"This might help your decision. If you want more, you can find us." He tossed the wrap onto the floor, and then jumped off the rooftop.

Wayne turned back to Solomon, who was in the process of transforming.

Jackson left quite a while ago, and Ada found herself drifting off on the couch. She’d kept a close watch over Wade, but there was no change. If he was healing, if he was just so severely wounded that he couldn’t, there was no way of her telling. Wayne had said something about an allergic reaction to silver bullets. Jackson hadn’t said anything about the bullets, nor had he said anything about Wade not healing properly.

Damn.

She stood up, stretched, and walked to the bedroom. Jackson had used her help in moving Wade to the bed. Made more sense than trying to keep him in the bathtub, really. He still seemed to be asleep. She crept closer and leaned over him. Placing her hand on his stomach, she was quiet as she felt his stomach rise and fall. Well, he was breathing, whatever that meant.

His nostrils flared, and he whimpered softly in his sleep, sounding all the world like a scared pup. She pulled the blanket over him, tucking it in around his shoulders. Maybe he’d remember her smell and that might help him? Even still...she leaned over him. “Wade, if you can hear me, this is Ada. You’re in my apartment...you’re safe now.” She placed her hand over an uninjured part of his chest. Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead softly.

Moving from him to the closet, she grabbed a blanket. Might as well get comfortable on the couch, since it was clear that she wasn’t going to be sleeping in her own bed tonight. Ah well.
_________

After a long hot shower, she dressed sloppily in an old police shirt and flopped down on the couch. Her phone had remained suspiciously quiet. She had taken the time to text her boss earlier; maybe that was why. As long as she turned back up to work the next day, that was all that mattered.

But.

She hadn’t heard from Wayne. That was odd. Not that he constantly checked in with her, but he had kept her abreast of what was going on with him. Maybe he was just too busy - he was undercover. Huh. Well...

She idly picked up her phone and stared at the blank screen. It wouldn’t hurt if she checked in on him. At least, just to find out if he’d be coming back to her place. But he had the hotel room. Why would he bother coming to her place? She was being foolish, needy. But it felt right.

Hey, just checking in on you, she texted quickly.

Once it was sent, she sighed and leaned back into the couch, pulling the blanket up to cover her legs. Stretching out her legs, she laid back, pulling the blanket over her. Her hair pillowed around her, airy as ever despite the sinking feeling that she had in her stomach. She felt like she was getting in over her head. What could she really do? She was one cop in an entire city and had the wild idea that she might actually make a difference. She could be the change that showed Lycans and humans could get along; work together to greater things. Of course there were extremists; there would always be people like that. But this? How far did the roots of this drug go? And what would it honestly take to get them all rooted out?

Wayne was limping across the rooftop when his phone buzzed. His vision was blurry and he was barely able to focus on the message as he read it.

------

Without transforming Wayne had little chance of fighting Solomon. Wade had told him that Guardian made Lycans extremely strong, which meant throwing caution to the wind. A rooftop fight would be less obvious thankfully.

Wayne had barely transformed when Solomon crashed into him at almost frightening speed. The wind was knocked out of him - then he was body slammed into the floor at a force that almost cracked his spine.

"Whaddya think?" shouted Solomon, the massive black werewolf towering over Wayne as he lay stunned on the ground. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Wayne barely managed to roll out of the way of a two handed axe punch. Jumping to his feet, he leapt away from Solomon, trying to increase the distance between them to give him time to think. But his opponent, pumped up on Guardian, easily read his movements, and Wayne flipped back to just about dodge a flying uppercut. Bringing his feet up he aimed a kick which connected cleanly with Solomon's chin, pushing the giant back a step. He followed with a sweep to the knees, but Solomon had already recovered and jumped back in time to avoid it.

This was going to be a long fight.

------

He wanted to type a response, but his fingers wouldn't obey him. His clothes were slashed to shreds, and blood leaked from just about every part of his body, but somehow he was alive. Ada.....she might be able to help him.

-----

10 minutes later they had reached a deadlock. Solomon's frightening strength had been amplified by the drug, but the limitations of his body meant that Wayne was still a step quicker. They had each landed blows but neither had been able to find an opportunity to finish the other off.

"You're fucking pathetic Solomon," said Wayne, gasping for air as he leaned against the boundary wall of the rooftop. "Took all those drugs and you still can't beat me."

"Big words." Solomon was down on one knee, clutching his left arm, which Wayne had managed to take a chunk out of with a lucky strike.

"Why are you doing this? Remus doesn't give a shit about you or your loyalty. He'll cut you off as soon as you stop becoming useful." Wayne knew that the effects of the drug had to wear off at some point. The more time they talked, the less time Solomon had to kill him.

"You really believe that?" replied Solomon, with a hint of indignation. "If he didn't care about us, then why did he set us free?"

"He just needs grunts to do his dirty work," Wayne sat on the wall and took a deep breath. "Humans aren't strong enough to protect him. Remus is a coward."

"Coward?!" Solomon rose to his feet. "You're the one who's betraying us. We have a the strength to rule, and yet we live in the deepest parts of the world, scraping together an existence, while the humans live here in luxury, getting soft and forgetting about us."

"Betrayal? Don't give me that. Remus had no qualms about killing his own kind in the Uprising. He doesn't want Lycan supremacy - he wants Remus supremacy. A world where he sits on top, and everyone bows to him."

Solomon had a look of surprise on his face. He was never a deep thinker, and Wayne was banking on that to extend the conversation.

------

He could barely remember the way. At least he managed to save the wrap of Guardian that Pete had left. If he gave it to Ada she could use it as evidence, or something. Something.....

Stumbling from rooftop to rooftop, Wayne had barely enough mental strength left to stay human.

------

Eventually Solomon had got tired of talking, and the fight had started again. Wayne had guessed correctly - the longer it went on, the weaker Solomon became. Guardian was powerful, but it's effects weren't long lasting. Eventually he was able to gain the upper hand.

The pivotal moment came after nearly 30 minutes. Solomon, realising his strength was ebbing, had thrown a last ditch haymaker. Wayne, seeing the punch coming, caught the arm and threw Solomon with just about everything he had. The big Lycan had flown into the air and landed on his head with a sickening thud, right on the neighbouring rooftop. Wayne didn't bother to check if he was still alive.

-----

This looked like the right roof. Wayne tried the rooftop entrance door and was rewarded when it swung open. He had broken the latch this morning for easy access. Struggling down the stairs, he swayed from left to right, limping through the corridors until he reached Ada's door. A few knocks, then he sat back against the wall and slid to the floor, passing out.

She hadn’t been sleeping well.

Not that that was usually the case: Ada devoured the few scant hours of sleep she was lucky enough to snatch and relished in them. To a stranger, Ada appeared exceptionally lazy; she dozed anywhere and any time, regardless of the situation. Tonight, she had nearly paced the floor of her apartment down to splinters. Wade was okay; he seemed to be pulling through just fine. She surrounded him with things that she felt smelled like her; going so far to raid her laundry bin for sweatier clothes that would be sure to absolutely reek of her. That way, if he awoke and started to freak out, he’d at least be surrounded by a familiar scent. Part of her felt bad; Wade was a “human” (or as near to one as she figured), it felt weird to give the same treatment that she would to a puppy getting adjusted to new surroundings. Her brief time with Wayne, though, had proven an eye opener.

Of course, Wayne was a big boy.

He wasn’t the reason why she was pacing.

Never.

Nooooo.

Wayne knew what he was doing. He’d gotten himself in with the gang in a flash. Even the best agents on her force took months and months before they could even get close enough to a gang to go undercover. And wonder boy Wayne shows up and is a right hand man within a matter of hours. It flowed so well that…

She stopped, her brows nearly colliding into one another as her expression darkened. Could this entire thing have been one giant set up? There was no telling; this could be the spill over of some political thing on the Reservations that she had no visibility, and subsequently, no control over. Wade could have been an innocent…She shook her head. That didn’t make sense. Wayne’s actions weren’t the one of someone who didn’t have anything to lose; of someone that didn’t care. He had been careful, but he had trusted her as well. Or at least given the illusion of trusting her. She felt a slight twinge in her stomach. Part of what made her so good at what she did was her inherently mistrustful nature; something that didn’t show because she had carefully crafted an open and friendly façade over the years. But at heart? She didn’t trust anyone.

Her friend being transferred. Dect. Rain being dropped on her doorstep. The fact that he moved so quickly to something hinting at romance. Wayne’s appearance. Finding out her neighbor was some sort of rouge Lycan.

Had she been monitored? If so, for how long? Was this some sort of strange test? If she passed it, would she get a paid month off and vacation to Hawaii?
She laughed aloud at the absurdity of her situation. Because, on top of all of that, she STILL was no where closer than she had been days ago in regards to solving that murder, and that’s what she was being held accountable for. Though she had “leads”, they all hinged on information that she couldn’t openly share. Like a bolt out of the blue, she rubbed her forehead. All of this converging at the same time was probably shaping her out to look like she’d lost her touch; that she’d dropped the proverbial ball.

Unless.

Wade.

Wade had to be able to help her out on this one. Both she and Dr. Jackson knew that the clubber had died because of a lycan attack. She’d shared that with her boss as well; at least her suspicions. She was lucky enough to have a boss that was concerned with interspecies –was that even the right word- relationships, and let her handle it the way that she thought was best. But Wade; he had to be able to help. The last thing she wanted to do was strong arm the man, but she could if she needed to. God. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Even though her and Wade weren’t exactly best friends, she did enjoy his annoying company. It was nice to know that she had someone looking out for her – even if she hadn’t asked for it.

She finally sat down on the couch, hanging her head between her legs. Wade. When she first moved in, she was quickly noted by the other apartment dwellers not to have regular hours. And neither did he. So it was really sort of inevitable that they’d end up running into each other. The first time she had, she wanted to slap him for so brazenly eying her like a piece of meat. It wasn’t until he started speaking to her (mere seconds after the eye groping he’d given her) that she realized that it was all an act. He was harmless. He always checked up on her (how he knew it was her, constantly, suddenly made sense with his being a lycan), and, in turn, she attempted to feed him (her cooking skills were atrocious) and they made conversation.

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and itchy. She hadn’t given herself the time to really digest what had happened today. All she did was act. It fell from the air, squarely onto her shoulders – she had nearly lost Wade today. Lost him without so much as telling him how much she did actually care for the stupid things that he did and his company. But before the dam could burst, before she could let loose, she heard a faint sound at the door. Standing up, she rapidly blinked her tears away. Unable to see anything through the peep hole, she opened the door a bit.

Well, that’d be why he hadn’t answered her texts.

“Oh my God, Wayne….!” She opened the door all the way; looked up and down the hallway. Not seeing anyone, she knelt and summoned the strength she needed to pull him in. She was tired. All of the adrenaline that she burned through to rescue Wade was gone, and she found herself falling squarely onto her butt behind Wayne. His unconscious form was pillowed against her chest, smearing blood down the exposed skin of her collarbone and shoulders. Exhausted, she could do little more than wrap her arms around him, trying, still trying, to tug him back into her apartment. Gritting her teeth and closing her eyes with the strain, she was nearly jerked off her feet as her load lightened considerably.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” His voice was in her ear, his wiry form surrounded hers. Muscles taunt like whipcord contracted, flexed, and Wayne was pulled into the apartment. Her body shaking, it took every last bit of Ada’s strength to kick the door closed. She would worry about the blood later. Falling back onto the floor, she looked up into the smiling face of Wade. She waved him down to her. Kneeling, grimacing in pain, he looked at her. Without a sound, she wrapped her arms around him, giving him the best hug that she could muster. She tried to speak, once, twice. Wade, for once, not letting his runaway mouth get the better of him, said nothing and smiled against her hair.

Letting go of him, she looked away, sheepish. “Jackson helped me with you – he knows you’re a Lycan. Not like there would have been any way to hide that, but Wade, what do I do?” Panic edged around her voice. “He’s beat up real bad and I can’t take him anywhere without causing a panic and I can’t bring Jackson back to help me with another Lycan attack because he’ll know something’s up, what do I do?” The tears came again, flowed down her cheeks.

“Okay, sweetness, listen,” and he held up his hands. Imagine him, timid Wade, the runt of the litter, standing up for himself. Near death experiences had interesting affects. “All ya gotta do is let him rest. Feed him. Let him rest.”

“Because you wouldn’t be holding a grudge against him for shooting you?”

“Hey, look, it was a bad situation. And I get to be naked, in your apartment, surrounded by your clothes. I can’t complain, doll.”

It finally sunk in that he was nude. Had been the entire time.

“Oh my god,” was all she managed to squeak out.
_________________

With Wade’s help, she had stripped Wayne and bathed him, doing her best to avoid the worst of the wounds. She used every bandage in the house and then sent Wade to get piles and piles more to wrap each of Wayne’s wounds, and set him in bed. She’d sent Wade out with a thick wad of money to pick up the most choice pieces of beef that the market had to offer for himself and for Wayne. In the time that it took for Wade to leave, she crawled into the bed next to Wayne, gingerly wrapping her arms around him.
She had only meant it as a comforting gesture.

She hadn’t expected to fall swiftly asleep next to him.

As he recovered, his mind slipped in and out of consciousness. Wayne was barely aware of the happenings around him - Wade's smell mixed with Ada's as he was moved into the apartment. Hot water soothed his body washed away the pain. The comfort of a bed, the feel of a warm body next to him. His life as an Enforcer had led to incredible sacrifices - a lonely life where the only person he could trust was himself. The feeling of being cared for was unusual.......but with his body ravaged, Wayne accepted it gratefully.

He had no idea how long he slept for. His thoughts slowly gathered as he pieced together the events of yesterday. Meeting Gerrard, then the test. He'd better check on Wade later to make sure he was ok. Wayne had avoided the vital points with his gunshots, but he owed Wade an apology at least. Shooting him had been the last thing Wayne wanted to do, but at the time it was his only chance to get closer to Remus and Guardian, and to keep Wade safe.

Following Gerrard around had been a trying experience. Seeing the ghettos and the junkies was extremely depressing, and it had taken all of Wayne's self control to not take down Gerrard there and then. His patience had eventually paid off - now he knew who Remus was in league with. The Crays probably had no idea they were working with the most dangerous Lycan in history.

Recapping the fight with Solomon made him wince. Wayne had been in some dangerous battles and that had ranked right up there with the worst of them. It had taken every ounce of him to survive that - not just his physical power but also his endurance and mental strength. How he had even made it back to Ada's afterwards was a minor miracle.

It was at that point that Wayne became aware of where he was. In Ada's apartment. In Ada's bedroom. In Ada's bed.

Opening his eyes, he slowly took in his surroundings. His body was bandaged and aching, but the accelerated healing of his Lycan genetics was helping with that. Looking to one side he could see the bedroom was a mess, just like the rest of the apartment. On the other side, a warm body. His arm was curled around her as her head lay on his chest, probably a natural reaction of his unconscious mind.

She must have taken care of him when he passed out in front of her door. The stress of looking after two Lycans would have been exhausting for her. Wayne was more than grateful - she had taken a huge leap of faith in trusting him and working with him, and to go this far was beyond his expectations. He couldn't help but draw her closer. In a twisted way it was the closest he had been to a woman for a long time. Months on the road chasing Remus had been a lonely life with no opportunities to form relationships with anybody, let alone a woman.

He couldn't help but draw her nearer, letting his lips brush against her forehead, gently easing her body up so that he could feel her breath on his cheek.

“Stress” didn’t begin to describe it. She’d been on a few stings; had seen some horrible things, seen the worst (or so she thought) of what people could do to one another. Having to care for two grievously injured Lycans was something that no amount of training (even if it was available) could have prepared her for. So quick to just act on instinct, on the drive to help, she hadn’t taken notice of how tired she was. She thought that she was just going to check on Wayne; make sure that he was still breathing. It didn’t quite end up that way. She was dead weight in his arms, oblivious to the world outside and around her. The only thing that she could register was the continual warmth beside her, and how soothing it was.

When he shifted her further up his body, she sighed in her sleep and wrapped her arms around him. It had been a while –too long- since she had someone else in her bed. She threw a leg over him as well, just for good measure. She pulled him close to her, snuggling into his warmth as if he was a overly large stuffed animal.

______
It would be hours later when she finally awoke, blurry eyed. She always did this. No matter how deeply she slept, she was predisposed to wake up with a jerk – and always before her alarm went off. Her head was fuzzy, her mouth dry. And she slowly became aware that she, indeed, was not alone in her bed. Not by a long shot.
What to do?

She lay there, still, perfectly still, the only moment of her body the light up and down in tune with Wayne’s breathing. Licking her dry lips, she said, softly, so quietly that she had a hard time believing that she’d spoken at all.

“…How are you feeling…?”

Her voice was soft but it was enough to gently wake him. Usually he woke with a start and was ready to move at a moment's notice - this time he felt....comfortable. Relaxed. And....

"Like I've been hit by a train,' he responded, with a smile, lowering his gaze so he could take in her beautiful face.

At that moment, Wayne made a decision that could mean the end of him. His position, his power, everything that he'd worked for up until now. But with Ada holding onto him, and after what she'd been through, what else could he do? She had proven herself a hundred times over, and Wayne knew she deserved the truth.

So he started telling her a story. One that started over a hundred years ago, when human decided that Lycans were too dangerous to be friends, bedfellows and allies. How the human government had organised an 2 day purge where unsuspecting Lycans were suddenly dragged from their homes and transported like slaves into Reservations, which had been prepared months in advance. Lycans who resisted were brutalised with silver weapons, and executed in cold blood by guns loaded with silver bullets. Five years of war followed, as Lycans fought for their freedom - but with little resources and a lack of organisation they stood no chance against their better prepared human opponents.

Eventually Lycans had no choice but to surrender - their race was in the brink of extinction and there was hardly anyone left to fight. All the able bodies survivors were needed to organise the Reservations into places that were suitable to live in. The real sting in the tail came a decade later, when humans rewrote the history books to turn Lycans into mythical beasts that were undead, and savagely roamed the wilds hunting human flesh.

The story turned personal when Wayne turned the subject towards himself. His rise through the ranks of the Enforcers, and the bloody conflict which had defined the current direction of Lycans politics. He wanted Ada to understand how someone like Remus could come about, and how dangerous he could be. More than anything, Wayne just wanted Ada to see his true self - he had no wish to carry on with obfuscation.

Lastly, he told her his deepest secret, one that even his superiors didn't know - the reason why he was such a gifted Enforcer.

As a teenage Wayne had discovered an unusual side effect to growing older. When he started having sex, he found out that after orgasm his senses were heightened, especially in human form. He was already a strong werewolf, gifted both mentally and athletically, but sex had the effect of helping him to calm the animalistic instincts of the wolf inside him, and sharpen his already keen mind. After a period of enjoyable experimentation, Wayne's ambition grew stronger, and he applied to become an Enforcer.

He rose through the ranks quickly, impressive his instructors with his intellect and control. Wayne surprised himself when he discovered that even as a human he was strong enough to beat 95% of the Academy in combat training. Transformed, he was comfortably the strongest Lycan not just in Richmond (his own Reservation), but on any Reservation. When he defeated Remus, Richmond had used his reputation to establish political control of the Lycan race.

"So that's my story. I know there's a lot of it, but I don't want to keep any more secrets from you. Not after what you've been through."

Wayne had no idea how long he'd been talking for, but Ada had listened intently throughout, and there was a lot of information to process.

"I don't know any other way to say it, but thank you."

Ada listened as Wayne spun his long history. Normally, the sound of a smooth, steady voice would have lulled her back to sleep (as her days in college would prove), but she was riveted. The world that Wayne had grown up in was so very different from her own, and she could barely struggle to keep her questions in check until he was finished. Of course, what he was telling her was entirely different from how the story was spun in the history books: lycans had long been demonized as some bizarre mutation – religious groups grabbed onto it, said they were a punishment from Heaven, others said that they would eventually replace all humans, and still others said that because of their inherently violent natures that they would eventually die out. If anything, the only positive thing about the forced migration of the lycans is that for one brief moment, it had unity humanity against a much larger and scarier foe.

Of course, not even a decade later, humans were back to being embroiled in racial and religious squabbles.

“…It’s funny,” she said, as his story wound down. She resisted the urge to draw idle circles around the smooth flesh of his nipple. It just seemed natural, cuddled up together like this, “but my grandparents were involved in Lycan Civil Rights along with the Civil Rights movement here. They passed it down to my parents, and I guess that’s where I am where I am today. I still don’t feel like I know close to anything to helping our races get over this. And I know that even if they did, we’d be right back at it within a few decades.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her, but careful of his wounds. Though crimson blossoms still bloomed across the white of the bandages, he still looked and seemed a lot better than when he had come into her apartment. Well, had been dragged into her apartment.

Wounds. That was it. She lowered her eyelids as a cold chill cut through her stomach.

“Wayne…if you’re the strongest lycan…then how did you end up like this? I didn’t see any bullet wounds.” It wasn’t like Wade at all. After helping Jackson with Wade, it became all too clear to Ada just how different the two men were build. Wade was lean, nearly skinny. He had muscle definition, in fact, almost impressively so compared to a human of his build, but he wasn’t anywhere near the power house that Wayne was. Only this close and after treating him as well could Ada really admire the absolute power that he possessed and was in control of. It was truly admirable. “And…where do we go from here?”

She hadn’t forgotten about her speech the next morning. She had been entrusted with finding the words to explain the murder, and it was tearing her up knowing it was a lycan and that she would essentially be forced into lying for the greater good. She hated lying. “They know it was a lycan that killed the guy at the club,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “The chief wants me to go to a press release tomorrow. We can’t keep this thing quiet. And it would be an election year,” she added, with a soft chuckle.

The politicians in the city on the right were becoming louder and louder about curtailing Lycan rights, describing that even the reservations were too good for them. And the left, wanting to be progressive, were talking about lowering restrictions on the reservations and offering work visas again. It was getting loud and getting nasty, and the force was divided right down the middle. Ada was subjected to a certain amount of ridicule based on her leftist political views, and she was thankful it was just the occasional harassment. Under her old chief, she may have lost her job all together and would have been blacklisted.

“Your friend,” and she said it with a healthy dose of sarcasm, “picked one hell of a time to strike.” But maybe he had been waiting for something like this all along. It made sense. With the city divided, it wouldn’t take too much more to weaken it. “So, what do we do now?”
____________

Across town, in a fairly affluent condo, Detective Alex Rain was rubbing his chin. He remembered the smell on Ada (mixed in with, to his senses, her overpowering perfume and the tickle of her nervousness around him) and was going through his memory to try and place it. It was familiar, but not overly so. Like chasing a shadow in a dream.
But his life had been a bit different.

His parents were back on the reservation. They’d sold him off, passing him as a wolf pup to some less than scrupulous people. If they were surprised to find a young boy, naked and shivering, they had no reaction. And so his life among humans began – as a pet, as a slave, and never anything close to human. It was only when he was close to a teen that he managed to elude them. He was adopted, passed off as a real human, and was raised by the Rain family. They were…different. They were nice enough. Caring. Maybe a little too much so. But they were oblivious, which was just what he needed to move forward. They’d never suspect, not ever, that their darling adopted son was a Lycan. They kept the house notoriously apolitical – it wasn’t allowed. And it was discouraged. Not that he cared. He knew he was superior. Could smell, taste, hear things that they never could. And it seemed that the only way he could truly indulge was by being a cop.

But that smell…

"Honestly, I haven't got a clue."

The news that Ada had to give a press conference shifted his thinking back to the present. That was one piece of the jigsaw that he could fit in place. Remus had obviously murdered the poor human to try and stir up anti Lycan sentiment and give more strength to the parties who wanted to take the war to the Lycans again. If they did, Richmond's chance of brokering any sort of peace agreement would be ruined, and Remus would undoubtedly be ready to take advantage. It was a risky plan, but one that could ultimately give Remus what he wanted.

"There's no easy way out of this," Wayne spoke slowly, his mind working to process his thoughts into coherence.

"These injuries...." Gesturing to the numerous bandages adorning his musculature, Wayne realised he hadn't explained the actions of last night. So he did, detailing his full day shadowing Gerrard, starting from the assault on Wade.

"I didn't have a choice but to shoot him," he explained, "I couldn't risk them finding out he was a Lycan, and it was the only way to save his life and my cover. If I hadn't, this operation would have been over, and Wade would likely have been beaten and tortured to death." The fact that it would probably take twice as long to actually kill a Lycan went unsaid. "I avoided his vital points - even without treatment he would have recovered in a couple of days. Thankfully you were able to help him."

Wayne then recounted his experience at the Sheraton, starting with the meeting between Gerrard and the Crays, and moving onto his encounter with the rogue Lycans.

"Guardian is terrifying," Wayne said, reaching up to stroke Ada's hair, wincing slightly from a bruise on his chest. " Franken...Solomon I mean. I fought him in the war and even though he was strong he was no match for me. Pumped up on Guardian that bastard almost killed me. Unfortunately you had to take care of me afterwards." He smiled and looked at Ada, "Which was probably a lot worse for you than for me."

Then a thought occurred to Wayne.

"I need to find out how Remus managed to spring those two out of prison."

A second thought followed closely, queueing up behind the first.

"But first...." Wayne gently pulled Ada's face close to his. Easing her hair aside, he gently placed his hand on her cheek and drew her near for a deep kiss. Breaking off momentarily he murmured, "....I need to thank you for what you did last night."

She gave a long, comical sigh. “Of course you don’t.” It wasn’t said in a nasty way - in fact, she took the opportunity to snuggle closer to him. She knew, in the back of her head, that she was being unreasonably forward. But, to be fair, he’d started it. And there was no way that she wanted it to end prematurely. “It’s a difficult spot for either one of us to be in.” She didn’t doubt in Wayne’s detective abilities: he could go places she couldn’t, see things that she had no idea existed. In such a short amount of time, her world had grown massively and she was left reeling. It made the idea of the press conference all the more daunting - how could she keep things on such a superficial level when she knew so much more?

And as he spoke about his encounter, her blood ran cold. She almost felt as if goosebumps dotted her skin. And this what was running wild on her streets. In her city. While she had been digging through the old records in the bowels of the police station, the number of drug-related arrests and homicides had a lot of missing information. Sure, it was done in a way not to seem obvious, but there were major gaps. People just...walked free. Or were never caught. Or the full details of the drug weren’t released. Even as Wayne continued to talk, she struggled to pull the pieces together in her head, make the connections that she knew were there.

It was only until his hand was on her cheek that she realized that the conversation had taken quite a different turn. She flushed, her mind stopping dead in its tracks and her eyes locked with his. She was embarrassed.

“But first what....?” her voice dropped with each word as she subconsciously leaned into him. Their lips touched. Despite herself, despite her best interests, she moaned softly into his lips. All prior thoughts of Alex, of what was going on, drifted away like smoke in the wind. When their lips parted, she looked down, then away. “There’s no need to thank me,” she said, and her tone was scoffing. “I just did what anyone would do. No need to pity-kiss me,” she added, somewhat wryly. There was, of course, that healthy dose of skepticism. She was sure that there wasn’t anything behind it, other than maybe being thankful. But what an odd way to show it. It wasn’t like he’d shown her that he was interested in any other way.

Maybe it had something to do with saving his life? That tended to change things.

“Besides,” she said softly, “You could’ve healed from this if left alone long enough, right?”

He sighed gently when their lips parted. Despite his sexual prowess, he had rarely kissed someone as tenderly as Ada. His previous trysts tended to be more....raw. Intimate feelings were rarely involved - Wayne realised that his sexual encounters were often a means to an end. An enjoyable way to keep his senses sharp and maintain the delicate psychological balance in his brain. He couldn't remember the last time he was actually intimately involved with a woman, both mentally and physically. There was a time when he would never have imagined that he would be lying in bed with a human female, baring his soul.

"Pity kiss?" he repeated, smirking at the thought. The natural cynicism of a policewoman. The instructors at the Academy always said it was more than just a job.

"When you found me I was on the brink of death," he continued, without giving her a chance to respond. "There has been times when I was hurt badly, but nothing like this. I honestly thought I was going to die. And somehow you brought me back."

"This is easily the worst I've ever felt physically - but my mind has never been clearer." He turned his head upwards, looking at the ceiling, composing this thoughts. Every time Ada's brown eyes were focused on him, Wayne found it hard to concentrate. "You're a special woman - frankly I thought that women like you didn't exist. You maintain a strong demeanour, your mind is as sharp as a razor blade, and yet you exude a vulnerability that you use to your advantage as much as possible."

Smooth, real smooth.

"The time we've spent together - I can see the real you. And I like the real you a lot more than you think." He shifted slightly and felt another lightning bolt of pain in his leg which caused him to wince.

"The only thing that's stopping me from making love to you right now is the incredible pain my body is in."

She struggled to stop from laughing.

It was just so ridiculous - she knew that he was pouring his heart out (in a sense), but his description of her was so stilted it was just..wow. Maybe he just didn't have a lot of real experience with women. He described her as someone would a comfortable pair of tennis shoes, and though she stopped herself from cracking a smile, her eyebrows were raised. It was obvious that she was not convinced, but didn't know the best way to say anything. She didn't want to hurt him, after all. And he had taken considerable risk with the things that he had told her.

"...I'm sure," she managed after a long time, gently untangling herself from his limbs. He was still hurt; that much she could see plainly. "I didn't do anything special. Hell, if it wasn't for Wade, I don't even think I could have gotten you in the apartment. All I could do was clean your wounds and give you a place to sleep. I don't even know how to sew you up from the nastier ones. You really only have yourself to thank for being here, right now, and talking to me. All I did was just try and give you a place to be comfortable. You're safe now, and that's all that's really important. Use this time to continue to heal. Let me know if you need anything." She leaned over and softly kissed his forehead. "Besides, it's not a good idea. I figure we need to keep things professional, right?"

Not that she would have been opposed to sleeping with him. If it was going to be just that, then why not, right? But this felt different. Felt like he wanted...more. And she just wasn't sure; after all, she still didn't know that much about him. And on top of that, how did lycan sex work? Would he stay human? Would he transform? Did he had a penis with a knot on it?

She flushed a little as she thought of the possibilities. Huh. Well...better to let him know that she wasn't thinking like that. Noooo, not at all. But realistically, what was going on in that mind of his? She looked down at him, wondering if she should pull the covers around him so that he had more of a nest to sleep in. "We haven't really spent a whole lot of time together, Wayne. I think maybe being that close to death has fried you a little. Everyone thinks a little crazy when they've stared death in the face. Get some rest and your senses will come back to you. And I don't know - won't someone be missing you since you've been undercover? How would you explain this to Gerald?"

Not quite the romantic take, but the practical one. He had to be suffering from some sort of stress; he really hardly knew her. And for that matter, she hardly knew him. Though they were working together, they'd both kept their distance. Not that she faulted him for it. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized how precious little she actually knew about lycans.

Was she right?

The question sat on his already tired mind like a weight. All those things he had said, the history of the Lycans, baring his secrets to her.......had he got carried away with the situation? A near death experience can be a chastening one as Wayne knew from experience, but he'd never lain in the arms of a woman who had saved his life. In fact, she was probably the first to bring him back from near death - none of his previous fights had ever been so damaging. Perhaps that was the reason he felt so close to her.

Rejection wasn't something he was used to either. To maintain his form he often picked on easy targets, women that would be more than willing to have sex with an attractive alpha male. Mostly they were lookers themselves, although some of the most pleasurable encounters were with women who weren't conventional stunners, but had great personalities which he could connect with. Ada had a combination of the two, which made her even difficult to resist on the best of days, but her aloofness was a surprise. Though as a policewoman she would have to have a cautious nature...

"Don't underestimate what you did," he replied. "I've fought hundreds of times and I know my limitations. Even if its just patching me up, I was as close to death as I have ever been. Left on my own, you'd be worrying about a dead Lycan as well as a dead human."

"Regardless, perhaps you're right," he mused. "The pain is making my mind work in....unusual ways." Wayne struggled to find the right words. He wondered if it was only male Lycans who had difficulty with understanding their own emotions.

"We still need to devise a plan for your press conference today, and what else to do moving forward. Gerrard can be controlled; right now he needs me more than I need him and he knows it. If I tell him I'm unavailable, he won't make any major moves. The goons he's currently paying are no match for anyone who works for Remus or the Crays. Keeping me on his payroll is a priority."

Another stab of pain reminded him of his current situation.

"I really need more rest."

“I think it was just luck, Wayne. I’ve never had to do anything like that before...It’s just good luck within bad that I didn’t end up killing you,” and she laughed, haltingly. “But...are you having problems with maintaing this form? Your control? If so, I can...” She trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say next. She didn’t want to run the risk of offending him. “I mean, if you can’t get out to whoever it is that you’ve been using so far...” Ah, there was the detective again! After he’d told her about his abilities, it didn’t take much for her to put two and two together. He had to have seen someone, if not a few people, to help him keep his urges in check. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she knew less and less about him - and what he had been doing during the day and before they happened to cross paths.

“Yeah. If you can’t get out to who you’ve been sleeping with before, I mean, I can do it. If it’ll help you. But! No use thinking about that, because, well, you know,” and she waved to his bandaged form. “But, you know, if it comes up. It’ll be business, right? And speaking of - how long have you been on the trail of Remus and why did you end up in this city? What tipped you off that my murder may have had something to do with it? How long have you been here?” Surely, he could rest while answering a few more questions, right?

She sat up in the bed next to him. Her bedroom was too small to allow her to sit anywhere else comfortably. And though the situation between the two of them was somewhat..awkward to say the least, she didn’t want to stand up and pace. That might grate on his nerves; God knows it would have grated on hers.

“And about the press conference; I can’t actually talk about anything we’ve discussed here. I can’t run the risk of revealing the true motives of the reservations, nor do I want to talk about anything that could be considered a Lycan weakness. The last thing I need is to do or say anything that will give bigots fodder to just start a war. That’s what Remus wants.” She ran a hand through her airy hair. “The problem here is that it’s a delicate subject and it’s been a while since I’ve had to handle anything delicate in front of the masses. The fact of the matter is, I’m going to have to be frank that it was a murder, but to get around anything hinting at Lycans....but the people need to know the truth....but they also need to have knowledge about how the Lycans on the reservations have been treated to temper whatever rage that they have. I wish there was some sort of representative from your reservation here. It’d make my life a lot easier. And no, I can’t use you. Remus knows your face.”