(Untitled)

[mrbigandbad]

Who: Bigby [mrbigandbad] and Bobby Hobbes [buddycop_show]
Where: Streets of Terra
When: Late afternoon/Early evening
Summary: Hobbes gets to see a "werewolf". Because messing with paranoid men is fun.
Rating: PG-13ish?
Other: Awooooo~

Comments

[mrbigandbad]

The first thing that was going to get Hobbes' attention was was the lanky man running past him down the side of the building, looking and breathing like the hounds of hell were biting for his legs. In retrospect, one might decide this wasn't too far off.

There wouldn't be much warning. The creaking groan of rusted metal from the ladder connected to the wall, and then a large, dark shape fell from up above. The man didn't stand a chance-- he hit the pavement hard, his body stilling as it lost consciousness. Honestly, he'd be lucky to hold to his vital signs.

The seven foot werewolf paused a moment over its fallen prey, listening for a heartbeat, pleased when it found one. Bigby didn't think the man had seen what hit him, and after a spill like that no one was going to believe what he said anyway. He'd hit his head, after all. The detective stood, prepared to shift back to human.

This was when he caught the scent of one Bobby Hobbes. Bigby tensed, the wolf's head glancing over a shoulder.

Shit.

[mrbigandbad]

He hadn't made a mistake like this since he was a cub. Of all the things Bigby could have felt at realizing he was at risk of having his cover blown and losing his prey both in one moment, he felt only an angry humiliation. He should have kept his nose open, shouldn't have focused so singularly on heading the criminal off. Bigby had the capabilities to have smelled Hobbes miles away, but he'd wrapped himself in the hunt. It was a rookie mistake, and he was paying for it.

Bigby looked at the gun, his ears flattening back. The session of self-scolding could happen later. Now he needed to figure out how to escape the scene without scaring the man any more and attracting more witnesses. It wasn't that he feared the bullets-- they weren't silver, so his flesh would reform. But he couldn't risk being shot. Leaving blood at the scene was out of the question. Attacking Hobbes would do him no good, either. Better to flee and play the odds that Hobbes wouldn't be believed

[mrbigandbad]

Good boy, Hobbes. Trust your instinct and just keep leaving.

Bigby watched from the shadows, and when he was sure enough that his co-worker actually intended to leave the wolf started making his way up the building again. He would have to lie low until he was sure the area was clear once more; only then could he do anything about the crumpled body down below. Christ, what a mess.

A brief debate waged in his mind whether to kill his suspect or not. Despite emotions on the matter, he decided not to. With the man out for another hour at least, he'd have time to track down his home and see if there was indeed anyone being held there. Whatever he found, he'd phone in an anonymous tip about the home and have the others in his department take care of the rest. While it required that he remained uninvolved, it was the safest move he could make right now.

Ears flattened against his skull, Bigby bared his teeth to the empty air. He hated damage control to the core of him-- it required that damage have been done in the first place.