(Untitled)

[rebelw_outclaws]

The werewolf formerly known as Russ --

Well, currently known as Russ, too.

And to be known as Russ in the future, if everyone knows what's good for them. (Cough cough Salla.)

-- has just pulled up on his bike outside the club.

He enters a moment later, half-smoke cigarette in his hand.

Comments

[bitingmybullet]

Gwen, being possessed of a pretty good nose and equally enviable ears, knows Russ is coming in before he even steps off his bike.

The question, now, is does Russ know Gwen is coming before she sneeeaks out from behind the bar and walks-- sedately, with no spring in her step whatsoever-- close ehough to offer a wry, "Hey, stranger."

[rebelw_outclaws]

Thaaat's a grin.

"Hey there, barkeep." He stubs out his cig on his boot, tosses it aside, and moves forward to put a hand on her hip. "Can I get a Dance With a Dream?"

(He missed her.)

[bitingmybullet]

"I juuust might be able to swing it," Gwen informs him with an answering grin. "Have to charge you extra, of course. You know how it is."

... Sorry, was there important news to be relayed?

Give her a minute.

[rebelw_outclaws]

". . . If you actually have brandy," he tells her, Very Seriously, "I may have to just start taking your clothes off right here. Fuck subtlety."

[bitingmybullet]

"Ooh, wow."

Gwen glances up at him wryly.

"That's the most romantic thing I've heard all week, Russ. Second only to, 'God, Gwen, stop shedding on the couch.'" She sighs, sliding an arm around his waist. "Where have you been all my life."

[rebelw_outclaws]

He leans in, grinning, and gives her a quick kiss. "Around. You know."

. . . Sorry. Russ sucks at romance unless he's putting his mind to it.

"How's things here?"

[bitingmybullet]

... Yeah. That's fairly hardcore lame.

Gwen sighs.

"Things are okay," she says. A frown. "Found out some fun things about Nick, though."

[rebelw_outclaws]

At least he's a good kisser?

"Yeah? Spill."

[bitingmybullet]

True!

"Like his thing for making friends with psycho wolves, for instance." She makes a face. "Also, penchant for spreading the blood-sucking love."

[rebelw_outclaws]

He frowns at the first part.

And then goes still and tense at the second.

"What do you mean?" It's low, and tight, but at least it's not a growl yet.

[bitingmybullet]

Gwen shrugs uncomfortably.

"You've heard about them infecting each other, right? Very ... gothic literature? Bram Stokery?"

[rebelw_outclaws]

"Yes."

That was a growl. After a moment, he slips his arm from around her waist and stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets.

"He's into that kind of shit?"

[bitingmybullet]

"Apparently," Gwen mutters, irritated at Nick in a nebulous sort of way for the moving of Russ' arm.

[rebelw_outclaws]

"Psycho wolves . . . you mean like the one that chased Preston."

[bitingmybullet]

"Not only like the one that chased Preston, but the actual one that actually chased him."

Gwen is still scowly. She folds her arms over her chest and huffs.

"So, not like it's a ton to go on, but apparently they're getting hauled in for questioning at some point."

[rebelw_outclaws]

His eyebrows go up. "By who?"