hell_in_highheels | [oom] Behind closed doors

That's fine, Richard says, walking towards her and patting Dam as he passes.

He gathers her into a fierce hug. Are you all right?

She melts into his arms, burying her face in his chest. This is exactly what she needs. He is exactly what she needs.

I am now.

He holds her, just holds her, for a long long moment.

You have to be careful, River.

What would he do if he lost you?

I was careful, but I had promised her, and I just -- I had no idea.

She knows she got in over her head, but what else could she do?

She doesn't let go.

Milliways isn't a sanctuary. There are people here who'll hurt you if they can, and not just this Blodwen, for the simple reason of being who and what you are.

He was stupid not to tell her this before, but it hadn't been an issue for so long...

She nods, pulling back to look in his face, her palm coming up to touch his cheek. She blinks unconsciously, but still needing to see his eyes.

It wasn't like that. It wasn't like that at all. I mean, I know that, I do, love. But this. This was different. It all happened so quickly. The reek alone.

Just the memory makes her shake.

It may be now, he cautions, touching her forehead with his own. How petty is Blodwen? How clever? How willing is she to use one person to reach another?

Live and learn.

Her eyes close and he feels her nod, just the tiniest movement.

She called me 'Goldeneyes'.

There's another layer of worry on her scent now.

I mean, I was angry and I felt a rush of adrenaline but--

He frowns at that. He hadn't forgotten, but he'd assumed Blodwen just knew.

Did your vision change at all?

Can she change outside the moon?

No. I mean, I don't think so?

She can't remember.

It'd be useful.

He pushes aside the thought of why can't he do it.

Perhaps she just knew. Or asked around, though he really doesn't like what that implies. The other two possibilities seem more likely.

Either way, be careful who you mention that part to.

All right, she answers, racking her mind. I thought she was just black and white because she was an aspect of death. It could have been my vision. All I was focused on was getting Ace out of there.

I know, he says, holding her close again. And he does. He's been eaten for pack before. It's why he hasn't argued with her over it.

He's just trying to figure out a way for her to do it without being in so vulnerable a position.

Again, she buries her face in his throat, burying herself in his scent and his embrace. She's safe here. Whatever that creature was, it can't get her here.

She wishes she could believe that thought as much today as she did yesterday.

What are we going to do?

It's a damn good question and he can't hide the uncertainty in his scent.

Stay on good terms with Security. Keep up with your training.

Fists probably can't hurt Blodwen, but maybe they can surprise her, if they're fast enough. And a good exhausting workout is an excellent distraction.

Research, she adds, thinking out loud.

Someone that powerful, she's made enemies here. Someone will know something. They have to.

He nods.

Keep a low profile. If she finds you're looking at her, she has more of a reason to look back.

He pulls his head back a bit and looks at her unblinking.

No direct confrontations. She goes after you, you run. Find Belar or Demeter.

He hates not being able to add himself to that list.

She nods, blinking as she looks back. She knows he's right.

And then a thought occurs to her, sending another spike of fear through her scent.

You'll do the same?

If I can. He blinks now.

It depends on the circumstances, but he has no desire to get into a fight with that weight class.

If Blodwen goes after River, well. That's another matter entirely.

She nuzzles his chin, brushing her cheek against his.

Please, Richard...

Her hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer.

We'll be careful, he promises, hugging her.

...you should know she's not the only threat in the bar.

She hugs him back, hard, and then tugs him gently towards the couches.

Tell me. I need to know.

He's going to need English for their names until River learns the canine. He compiles a list as they sit down.

"You're already aware of Witherspoon. The others likely to attack are a man called Le Chiffre and a younger man named Zuko." Canine descriptors accompany those. "The latter is capable of controlling fire, though I haven't seen either of them for quite some time.

"Not an immediate threat, but most likely won't be keen on meeting you, are Sergeant Harry Wells, his cousin Andrew Wells, and Private Lawrence Cooper. The soldiers also haven't shown up for some time.

"Finally, I've been informed that Sam and Dean Winchester are monster hunters with a very unfriendly attitude towards werewolves. I've met them once, though they didn't know what I was." And still don't as far as he knows. He probably would have forgotten had Wells not made such an effort to warn him.

"I've met Sergeant Wells. But before, yes. And I'll keep an eye out for the Winchesters. I've heard their names in bar before."

"What about," a pained look crosses her face, "carrying a weapon?"

He can tell by her scent that she really doesn't like that idea.

But there isn't a whole lot about the current situation to like anyway.

"We have a spare handgun. I can teach you how to use it."

Live and learn.

"Will that be sufficient, do you think?"

She has her doubts, especially what with gods and demons running around in the bar.

"Against more mundane threats. Perhaps to greater ones, if you can get off a lucky shot."

A very lucky shot.

"Yes, well. You know how I feel about them."

Them, meaning weapons in general.

"I'm not objecting to training, understand. I just -- it's never going to be my first response."

Possibly even when it should be.

He arches an eyebrow at her.

"I've never recommended the 'shoot first' method," he says dryly. "That being said, it never hurts to keep one's options open."

"True," she gives him a shy little smile at that. Wasn't she the one who reminded him of that way back when?

She takes his hand in hers, squeezing tight. "I wish you'd been there. I wish you'd seen -- whatever it was that happened."

She's discovering she's just as disconcerted about the idea that she has no control over when she changes as she is over the threat to pack.

In Ryan's experience, those who can shift out of moon can also do so whenever they wish. Granted, Spoon is his only reference point, but he'd still be a little jealous if he weren't busy being distracted by other things.

Like threat to pack.

"It's a pity this place doesn't have CCTV."

"CCTV?"

She tilts her head at that.

"Closed-circuit television," he explains. "Basically video cameras at several choice points to record activity in an effort to catch criminal acts."

"A visual recording, then. We should ask if Bar has something like that. Or perhaps Security might know."

She nestles closer to him, almost in his lap now, needing to feel him close.

He has no issue with this.

"I doubt it. Too many medieval magic users on the force," holding her close.

Someone is falling prey to stereotypes.

"We'll never know unless we ask, love."

She rests her head on his chest, breathing in his scent, letting out a deep, contented sigh.

"Fair enough," he agrees.

Happy you're unhurt.

Seconded.

She holds him tight for a long moment, and then slowly relaxes.

Love you, she murmurs, nestling under his chin.

Love you.

If he has his way, they'll stay curled up like that for some time. Bad day.

[oom] Behind closed doors

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