Time to April 24th

[captainryan]

River’s reading on the sunseat in Ryan’s flat today, not unusual. The werewolf steps up silently behind her, also not unusual. She’s reading the same book as she was yesterday, slightly unusual, and staring at the exact same page. He can tell by the picture.

Very unusual.

“What’s so interesting about that plant?”

Comments

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"That's where Private Cooper found me," he continues, completely immersed in repeating his mission to a superior. Clinical. Facts. They weren't interested in anything else. His stance shifts to that of an at ease soldier, wrist clasped behind his back, eyes staring straight ahead, unseeing.

"I fought him and was attacked by the dog. Cooper found a bit a of silver, stabbed me with it, and then recovered his pistol. I was shot in the head. My next memory is that of Milliways."

Dry. Almost boring, if it weren't for the story it told. His superiors were good at filling in the gaps, but there are always things he missed in his oral reports.

He falls silent, now, waiting for questions.

[hell_in_highheels]

She can't be apart from him any longer. She rises and crosses to him, stopping just a half step away, trying to find the words.

So many facets to him, all of them dark and beautiful, she thinks. Wolf, the most simple and direct; soldier, not far behind in singularity in purpose; the man, whose belief in doing what needs to be done is implacable; the lover, her protector, her mate, who would do anything to keep her safe. She knows she addresses all of them, even if she picks only one name to call him by.

"You didn't kill them, Captain." she states, as plainly as she can with her heart in her throat.

"They saved your life. If only for a few moments more."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps," Ryan says tonelessly to the air in front of him.

"It does not change the fact that I ate them."

He's brought this up to make a point and he hasn't forgotten that.

"I can't be trusted in that form."

[hell_in_highheels]

She knows by now she can't rationalise with him when he's thinking this way. She can only accept that he believes this. Even if she believes differently.

She lowers her gaze and moves to stand beside him, facing the opposite direction. Her shoulder is just beside his, but not quite touching. When she speaks, her voice is low and quiet, almost reverent.

"It is dangerous to approach any wild creature as if it were tame."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"You agree, then."

Something tells him it's not going to be that simple.

[hell_in_highheels]

She can only turn to look at him, her eyes moving over his profile, overlaying it in her mind with the line of his other form's muzzle.

"I must take your word on it, Richard. My ability to judge objectively has been -- compromised."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He turns his head to look at her, across their shoulders. He gazes for a long moment, blinking every now and then.

"If you understand and accept the predator aspects of it...I'm willing.

"But please, River. Please be certain."

[hell_in_highheels]

His words take the air from her lungs. She swallows hard and sways a bit, her shoulder leaning against his.

The trepidation and longing in her scent changes almost instantly to relief, joy, hunger, giddiness and the same fierce and powerful emotion he already knows.

"I am. I am certain."

She had no idea that she was until the very moment he spoke.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Tell me."

It's quiet and sombre and serious. He can feel the hope building in him, the joy faintly behind that, but he won't let himself be blind sided by his emotions. He's going to make damn sure she knows what she wants.

"Tell me what you're certain of."

[hell_in_highheels]

Her eyes close and there's a look of soft wonder on her face. Her breath is coming shallow and quick, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows and her lips part slightly.

She's remembering the woods at night. The bloody haunch of flesh and fur and bone. The feel of the wolf's breath on her face. The resonance of his howl in her chest and head.

She exhales and opens her eyes again. I want to hunt with you.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

She couldn't have said anything better.

He just looks at her again, studying, searching, for what he's not sure. Some sign that she truly knows what she's getting into.

But in the end, he just has to trust her.

The corner of his mouth twitches up ever so slightly as he pulls her into a fierce hug. "All right.

Please don't let him regret this.

[hell_in_highheels]

The air goes out of her lungs again, this time from the strength of his embrace. She clings to him, shifting to press her face against the side of his neck. Her hands fist in his shirt and eventually wind around his neck, pulling him down to her.

Her mind is racing, her chest aching. She thinks perhaps, in this moment, her feet aren't quite touching the ground.

Right now, she just wants to breathe in his scent and feel his arms around her, holding her close.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Her reaction sends a thrill through him, truly, and his smile broadens a bit as he buries his nose in her hair. His heart's pounding a little faster than usual, from anxiety or excitement he's not sure. Probably both. To say he's already wondering if he's making a mistake would be a lie; he's been worrying about that since he first found her note.

Agreeing to her request has done nothing to alleviate it, but he can ignore it for at least this small moment.

[hell_in_highheels]

She pulls back just enough to look into his face, her palm coming to rest on his cheek. Her eyes search his, and she's biting her lower lip.

"I passed my research on the recorder back to Ray, today. He's going to finish the tricky bits."

She strokes his face, leaning forward just enough barely touch her nose to his before retreating again.

"I didn't want -- any distractions."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

She's been planning, he can see.

"A distraction might have been good," he admits a bit wryly, pushing against her hand. "The smells can be overwhelming at first.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Tell me," she says, leaning forward, nuzzling his cheek. Her breath feathers over his lips. "I want to hear you tell me. I'm tired of reading about it second hand."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Hearing it from me is still second hand," he points out, smiling.

Then he frowns a little, thinking. "It's...everything. Who a person is: male, female, young, old, human, not. It's who else they've spoken to, what they've eaten, where they've been, how they feel. There's more Intel every time the Door to the bar opens, if you bother to sort through it.

"And that's just the people."

[hell_in_highheels]

She leans in close as he talks, her hands holding to his, her gaze intent.

"You said you could smell silver. How is that possible? And what does it smell like?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Everything has a scent, unless it's a computer sprite. Metals are more subtle, but I've had a few years practise working with them. Copper doesn't smell so much like blood as everyone would have you think.

"Silver, though, silver is...spicy, almost. A little irritating. Have you ever smelled something that's jalapeño flavoured? It's a bit like that, where it sticks in your nose and makes you want to sneeze."

[hell_in_highheels]

She wrinkles her nose in sympathy. "Black pepper." She grins, her imagination running ahead of her. "Mmm, I want to smell iron. And glass, and wood."

"I want to smell you," she smiles.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"You already do that," he laughs quietly.

The worry is still successfully being ignored.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her nostrils flare and she beams at him. "Not like this." Her eyes go wide for a moment, her pupils dark.

"Did you realise you were infected? How did it feel?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

That sobers him up nicely.

"I knew," he says quietly, the flatness returning to his tone. "Nothing else would explain a mortal chest wound healing over the way it did." He falls silent for a moment.

"It felt...good. Fantastic, really, with quite the energy boost."

And stuck tied to a chair most of the damn night with Sam trying to talk to him.

[hell_in_highheels]

She reaches up to touch his cheek again, drawing his eyes back to hers. "Love, I know you didn't want this, that it chose you and not the other way around. I don't want -- I'm afraid you'll despise me because I'm choosing this, and you never had a choice."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head slightly, stubble rubbing against her palm.

"As long as you know what it is you're choosing, I have nothing to despise."

And if she decides later on that he didn't explain it clearly enough, he has only himself to blame.