Crackfic: Odd Hobbies
"What a freak," Timothy said, holding up the disembodied head of the suit. He stared into the snarling wolf's maw, made a little less fearsome by the fact that the teeth were made of stuffed linen and the eyes were embroidered.
"This, coming from the guy who dresses up in a wool uniform in the middle of summer and marches around fields carrying a ten pound musket and a full pack," I said.
"I'm a historical reinactor," he said defensively.
"Whatever." I pushed open the door of the interrogation room. Thompson was sitting in a chair in front of the table, looking miserable, dressed in an orange prisoner's jumpsuit. I motioned to Tim, who plopped the head down in front of the perp. "Mr. Thompson, I'm Detective Blakey. Have you been informed of your rights?" I asked, switching on the tape recorder and making a verbal note of the time and date.
"Yeah," he answered in a low voice.
"Do you understand why you're being questioned?"
"Because I'm a freak."
"Told you," Timothy muttered. I shot him a look and he settled down.
"You are not a freak, Mr. Thompson. Lycanthropthy is not a crime. Scaring the living crap out of a armed police officer however, is damned stupid. Would you mind telling me why you were wandering around your neighborhood at 3 am wearing this?" I gestured to the wolf head.
"It's... um... complicated. I don't think you'd understand."
"Try me."
"Well, when I wolf out for real, I have to stay in my cage. It's too dangerous for me to wander around in public, and it's not like I live in Canada or something where I can just go to one of the protected forests when it's that time of the month. But when you're the wolf, it's such an incredible feeling. I can't describe it to you. There's no way to describe it to prey, I mean, ordinary people in a way they'd get."
"I think I see," I said. "So when you wear the suit?"
"It's like I can pretend that I'm the wolf, at least for a little while, in a way that won't hurt anyone." Thompson curled up a little in his chair, staring at his hands.
I let out a long sigh. "Right. All right Mr. Thompson, you're free to go."
He looked up, "I am?"
"Technically speaking, your only crime is creating a public nuisance. You can just go to the night court judge and pay your fine. We'll even let you take your suit home with you."
"Oh, thank you!" The look on Thompson's face was one of deep relief.
"And in the future, when you feel the need to, um, indulge yourself? Try to stay indoors."
"Yessir."
"Or at least find the right conventions to attend," Timothy added.
"Shut up, Tim."