Just Breathe...{Open}

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink
I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink
No,no,no.
I'm so tired I don't know what to do
I'm so tired my mind is set on you

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Fortune is made of glass.

The old proverb rang in his ears, bringing a small, bitter smile to his face. How many times had he heard his father mutter those words, when he was but a boy?
“Fortune is made of glass, Lucien,” Mihael would say, that familiarly stern expression on his old, care worn face. “Never stop protecting it, or you will find yourself holding the broken pieces.”

As a young man, he had never understood the saying, thinking his father to be the old, paranoid leader that some in the Pack had thought him to be. Their town, hidden from Romania’s revolutions and cared for by the wild Carpathians, was exempt from the chaos, the sickness that plagued his country. He and his friends and family were happy; provided for by the forest, content in each other’s company. They were family, and life was good.

As an older man, he understood it now. Fortune is made of glass.
Could he mend the pieces back together?

A mirthless chuckle escaped slightly chapped lips, as a large figure reclining comfortably against the worn trunk of a downed tree, turned his head up to look at the darkened skies above. Mend the pieces together? Didn’t he mean bring back the dead? He had his family’s money, enough to live comfortably in whatever country he went to, but he did not have his sweet Miruna. Could not tuck Stela, his little star, into bed and tell her stories about old Gods and the magic of the mountains.

Magic. He snorted again. If he sold his soul to the Gods, would they give him back his beloved? Would they mend his broken fortune and rewind time so that he could correct the past? His eyes were focused on the restless clouds above, and he waited for an answer.

Which, of course, never came. He was a fool.

Another chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he let his hand drift over the blades of grass standing at attention under his reclining form. It had been almost a year since he'd joined the FBI Team, and this, the cemetary, was the only place that he could confidently say allowed him the semblance of peace. The sharp, tangy scent of the rain, waiting for release from their jailor clouds, drifted through the trees, which swayed and danced in a creaking rhythm. If he closed his eyes and listened hard enough, shed the wool jacket covering the wide expanse of a white button up shirt that covered his chest, and rolled up his sleeves, he could smell the mountains again. Could feel the bite of the afternoon chill, and hear the echoing sounds of children playing in the valley. He could almost imagine that he was home.

No, this was home; he had to remember that. Dargul was burned to the ground, and only ghosts lived there. He, Lucien Carugarul, lived where battle resided. He was a soldier, not an leader, and a stranger. Why did these facts not stay within his mind?

Shaking his head, he slid off dark, Oakley glasses that covered his eyes and looked down as the wind played with the folds of dark trousers. He was crazy. Esti nebun, he thought to himself with a low growl. You are crazy.

With harsh, jerking movements, Lucien pulled off his shoes and socks, shedding his jacket and tossing it onto the ground next to him. He was not crazy; could not afford the luxury of losing himself to old memory. The Calugaruls were a strong bloodline, and he would live. Move on. ‘Get over it,’ as the American children drawled in the coffee shop that morning.

All he needed was to feel the grass beneath his feet and hands, and smell the oncoming storm. He just needed a bit of time, that was all. Time to forget, time to remember…time to lose himself in the rain, when it fell, and let it wash away all the bad things that would not leave his mind.

…And let him remember the rage, the promise he made to the two graves at the foot of the mountain, their mountain. Blood would spill soon, and he’d let it fall on his body like the rain.
Not now. But soon.


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[Mercedes Rowe]

What a contrite day this was. It was the anniversary of Mercede’s grandmother’s death, one year ago today. Her grandmother had played an important role in her life. She had been sad to see her go, but after a year she has moved on and knows now that she is off in a better place. She was wearing a knee length black coat with a bundle of roses in her arms. It looked as though she had just left a funeral.

Mercy bent down and placed a kiss on her fingers then pressed it against the headstone. When she stood the bouquet of roses were sitting across the base of the headstone.

Standing here, looking at the headstone she felt lonely. She could have used the comfort of her pack. It was something shared between some close pack mates. They needed the comfort and warmth of another werewolf or human. It didn’t matter. It could work with either, but werewolves had a slightly elevated body temperature that was hard for some human’s to stand, but this feeling made her want to take a run in the wild. She could easily let the wilderness around this graveyard engulf her.

That’s what her plan was. She let her jacket fall from her shoulders and land into a pool at her feet. Beneath her jacket she wore a light blue dress that hugged the curve of her form. Her shoes and tights followed, leaving her only in her dress. It was when she grabbed the edge of her dress, gathering it in her hands when she realized she wasn’t alone. There was another soul in the vicinity.

Her fingers hovered at her thigh, so close to lifting the fabric farther and above her waist. She lifted her head then. She felt or smelled someone else. Her hazel eyes shifted. The smell was familiar, but not that familiar. It was definitely someone she’d been close to before, but it could be anyone. It could be a patient that she had worked on or someone she had run into at a store. When she got that smell of a person it usually stuck.

Her nose followed the scent in the air until she saw him. Lucien was near a tree stump. He didn’t have on socks, shoes, or a jacket. It was strange seeing him here on this mountain. This wasn’t your typical graveyard. It was very small and wasn’t used all that often. To be honest, she had thought nobody else knew about it, but to see him sitting there she questioned if this was fate.

Then she wondered why half of his clothing had dropped to the ground. Was he a shifter, maybe a werewolf like her self? That was her explanation for it. These types usually had an aversion to clothing. She knew that were’s felt better without them, but it was a necessity to wear them in public.

Frankly, this was unusual to see him sitting there, this man that she had seen not long ago. What were the odds? She hesitated, considering her options. He was near two graves and looked focused. She didn’t know if she felt right interrupting him. One thing was for certain, she needed to act quickly.

If he hadn’t noticed her stripping prior to now she would quickly stoop and grab her things. Her tights she stuffed into the pocket of her jacket before throwing it back on. Her shoes she left off. She liked to walk around barefoot. She would really like to be running wild through the woods, but she couldn’t peel her eyes from a delicious looking man and that’s where she headed. Her beautifully sculpted legs peeked out from the skirt she was wearing, carrying her in his direction. Her stride was long and quick.

The static in the air was palpable. The clouds above brewed, ready to spill the rain down upon them. A big gust of wind pushed her clothing and hair off to one side.

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

Ah, demious moi, this felt nice. Leaning back against the weather worn tree trunk behind him, Lucien felt himself relaxing for the first time that day. Slowly, he let his eyes drift closed as he let the palm of his hands hover above the small blades of grass beneath them. The tickling sensation was soft; soothing. There was no chaos, here in the cemetery. No pain, blood, anger or fear. There was just…peace.

It was a wonder why he didn’t join those particular armies, he thought with an inner sigh. Join the armies of the dead and rest quietly beneath the dirt. But no, that would not be his family’s way. Calugaruls didn’t commit such a deadly sin…they just brooded, festered and died brutally in battle.

Oh, what a happy alternative. Then again, at least life would allow him to find some of the soldiers who had come into his village all those years ago, and took his family from him.

In the time he’d spent in the Romani Army, he’d done his fair share of hunting. He’d tracked down the rebel ‘squad leader’ who’d ordered the attack on Dargul, and gotten the names of the soldiers who’d participated. He’d killed the toad-like man, then hunted down his brethren and killed them, too. One by one, two by two’s, in whorehouses or taking out the trash. He would never get all of them, that he knew…but revenge made a man purposeful. Anger kept him warm at night, and gave him fuel for the future.

Everything else was useless. Lust, passion, happiness…all they served to do was weaken his resolve. He would survive until the day when God called for him, and then, he would meet his family. Nothing more; just survival.

Du, it was a good thing that he was apt at hiding his emotions. One sniff of such a destructive attitude, and he’d be kicked off of the Team. Strange…he didn’t think he’d care so much about working with others, but the thought was oddly abhorrent.

Or he was just a masochist. Yeah, it was probably just the last one.

Rolling his eyes around closed sockets, Lucien just shook his head at himself. Even when trying to relax, he was making himself grim. Was there ONE minute in the day when he didn’t start thinking about depressing crap? Esti nebun.

“Ah, Miruna. The webs that we weave around ourselves…” He muttered in Romanian, running a hand through his hair. He really did have to get the damn mop cut before he blinded himself—

Rustling. Grass, light footsteps on dirt…twig snapping? His instincts flared to life and whatever relaxation he’d been trying to channel was instantly replaced with a wary awareness. His eyes stayed closed, but his hand went down to the Bowie knife he kept at the small of his back. He wasn’t as much of a fan as his friend, Raven; he liked the up close and personal touch, when it came to taking a life.

The hairs on the back of his neck was standing on end, a warning that whoever it was was coming closer. Was someone looking for him? Was it time for yet another confrontation? Would tonight be his time to die?

Finally, when he felt the telltale signs of someone looming over him- soft breathing, clothing rustling, the soft slide of skin on cloth- he snapped into action. One minute, he was sitting on the ground as if sleeping, and the next he was on his feet, knife out, lips set in a grim line. He fell into a defensive stance, bare feet quiet on the grass and he kept the knife low and loose at his side, waiting for the attack…

Which never came. God save him, it wasn’t a soldier bent on bloodletting standing in front of him, but the familiar face of a woman.
An unarmed woman.
A woman carrying a little ball of clothing.

Du save him, it was the doctor from the emergency room he’d gone to all but three days ago. And he was…ready to kill her.

He should have been locked up long ago.

With a curse in his language, Lucien immediately took a few steps back, sliding his knife back into the sheath at his back. He put his hands up, palms facing her, a grimace on his face. He began to speak in Romanian, but caught himself. English, he reminded himself.

“I apologize,” He said quickly, accent thick with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. “You startled me. I did not know that there was anyone else in cemetery when I come in. You are alright?”

With his luck, her answer would be a screaming ‘NO!’ as she ran for the nearest precinct. DU, there was a reason why he usually stayed in the compound!

[Mercedes Rowe]

Mercedes hadn’t meant any harm nor did she want to eavesdrop. As she approached and caught some words in Romanian she quickly wondered if this was a bad idea. It was too late to think that sneaking up on him was a bad idea. It was the farthest thing from her mind. She should have spoken, so that he knew she was approaching. She knew very well that her feet carried her quickly and more lightly than humans. Sometimes she forgot that she was no longer human in those daily things, until things like this happened.

Lucien had lurched up so quickly with his knife in hand that her instinct told her to get out of the way. She had thought of one thing when she saw the glint of metal – that it was silver. She leapt back so quickly that one minute she was there, the next she was five feet away. Her eyes swirled with, not anger, but annoyance at herself for not being cautious. The labored breathing that fell from her lips wasn’t from fear, but her battling the instinct to change into the animal that she was, the animal that would always be a part of her. So many different emotions could cause her to change, but she had been doing this long enough that she knew how to control it. She did so by taking slow deep breaths.

Her hazel eyes shifted from his blade when she realized that he was not going to harm her. It had been an accident. As a resident she knew all too well that accidents did happen. She also had come to know that by being an animal it did not mean she had to change whenever fear grasped her inner core. He had already gone through his apology moments ago, but she stood there without a word. Her face completely closed off. She was afraid he would see the animal she was. It was something she was ashamed of.

One final breath and she was completely better. The energy of the animal in her was no longer clawing to be released, to fight at what caused its fear. She had shoved it back in and pushed it back into its cage, for now. It was not an easy task for her. It was sometimes a painful process to push the beast back down when she had to deal with rare occurrences like these. This had been one of those painful moments because it had been ready to be released before when she was on the other end of the hill. She had been ready for a run, but she saw Lucien and stopped herself. The second time she had to push it down was not nearly as easy. But, she had done well to hide any pain with it.

Finally, she could answer. “Yes, I’m alright.” Little did she tell him that she had feared not only for herself, but for him also. To think that she could have changed on him. She didn’t know how her beast would react to him. It could have gone at him prepared to kill him. She always thought the worst though. She hoped that as much as she had changed that the wolf inside of her knew better. She had trained it to only take orders from her, but there could be that one time that it disobeys. “You startled me, is all.” She said with a distant look in her eyes. She knew it was more than that.

“I’m sorry that I crept up on you like that. I should have warned you before I approached.” She looked down at her feet and realized she had dropped her belongings. She knelt to pick them up and pulling them close to her chest, using them as an item for comfort, something to hold close. There was a fleeting thought that maybe she should run away before he declared that he knew the beast that she was.

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

Denoi, she moved fast. One minute, he was looking into her startled face as she caught sight of his weapon, and the next, she was more than a foot away. How did she manage to pull that off? Adrenaline? Military background? Well, whatever had done it, he was glad that she hadn’t been too close to him, when his instincts went on high alert.

It was always up in the air; when he’d finally lose his sanity. And when it happened, he would really prefer not to kill an innocent woman who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Call him selfish.

Warily, he watched her as she gained her composure, wishing that there was more light in the place so he could read her expressions. He’d caught something strange on her face when she’d jumped back; fear and…something else he couldn’t pin down. His hackles had risen when he’d seen it, however, and that was enough for his paranoia to rise to the service.

He so wanted to say that it was unwarranted; that she was just a doctor and nothing more. But life’s bitterness had stripped him of such innocence. Everyone was a monster, whether they wanted to be one or not. Dr...Rowe, yes, that was it—Dr. Rowe was no exception. She looked innocent enough, with those angel eyes and sweet face, but beauty was just an outer truth. Who knew what lurked beneath?

Oh yes, ‘jaded’ could only begin to describe his bitter self. Gah, it was a miracle that he hadn’t flipped God a finger and killed himself by now.

“Then we are even, Doctor,” He said, slowly putting his hands down. His fingers still twitched for his knife, but he kept them at his sides. “I did not think that people come to this cemetery so late at night. And is okay. The night; it makes people…ehm…jumpy.”

She looked so damn fragile, standing there hugging her clothes against her chest. Had he frightened her that much? Oh God, why would he have to ask that? Of course he had frightened her with his damn knife trick! There really was a reason why he rarely ventured out of the compound lately. But no, he had to listen to Raven’s cajoling and agree to accompany her ‘out on the town.’ Note to self: always say no to the crazy ex-mercenary.

With a ‘tsk’ in the back of his throat, he gathered up his own clothing with one swipe of his hands. “I will go,” He declared, giving her a little bow. “I apologize again for startling you…” He paused for a minute, brows creasing. “Ehm, I am sorry if I sound rude, but…you are here alone? In the cemetery at night? Is not safe, Doctor. I would leave you alone, but is not safe. Do you need..eh…company to where you are going?”

Oh, yeah, the knife wielding crazy man was offering an escort. She’d REALLY go for that one. With an inner roll of his eyes, he muttered an oath in Romanian under his breath.
“Or, I will call you a taxi? And…stay here while you go out of cemetery?”

[Mercedes Rowe]

Mercedes hated the look that had crossed Lucien’s face. Even after he put his knife away his fingers twitched with apprehension. Rightly, she couldn’t blame him. She would be scared of herself too.

The worst part of it all was she knew by that expression that no human would or cold love her. She wanted to feel loved, but she knew no human would want that part of her, and again, she couldn’t blame them. Nobody wants to deal with a monster, a monster that could come forward without warning. She hoped and prayed that would never be the case. It happened a lot when she was younger, but after time of learning how to control her change, while living with a pack, it had helped her to deal with it and learn.

A deep gust of wind swirled around them. It tossed her long hair around her curvaceous form. It brought Lucien’s smell with it, the smell of fear. She didn’t know if the fear was for nearly attacking her or if it was fear from what he saw in her. It bothered and ate at her. She wanted to know what he was thinking at that moment, but she decided not to ask.

She dropped her eyes as he spoke. “Yes,” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder, “My grandmother is buried right over there.” The latter part of his statement brought her head back up. “I guess it can.” She didn’t want to tell him that she wasn’t jumpy, but she had feared that his knife was made of silver.

The groups that hunted for people like her always carried silver with them, and as much as she found herself pulled towards Lucien the first time they met she couldn’t discount that he wasn’t one of those people. He very well could be. She saw compassion from this man, not once, but twice the other night at the hospital, so she knew he had that. It didn’t mean that he didn’t hunt the monsters though. It saddened her to think that he could possibly be one of those hunters. She did all that she could to be a caring werewolf, keep from killing things by other means of saturating her diet. She was a doctor for Heaven’s sake. She helped the very people that probably hunted for the monsters like her. She wanted to ask him if he was a hunter, but she knew it was not her business, so she kept her mouth shut.

He bid his farewell and grabbed his things. Her arm came up, about to stop him. Why? She had no idea. She hoped she wasn’t starting to feel for this man. It would be stupid and careless on her part. The words spilling from his mouth were so sweet, it was hard not to. She paused, dropped her arm back at her side and shook her head. “I don’t need a ride, but you don’t need to leave. I’m fine. Honest.”

She smiled this time. He had seen something in her eyes, she knew this, yet he still felt obligated to make sure she was safe. He would stay with her even after seeing that look and noting her unusually fast movement. She took one cautious step towards him, like an animal cautiously moving towards its prey, but she wasn’t after him like that. She wanted to show him that they were both safe and in no way would she harm him.

He spoke of calling a taxi and she shook her head again. “Lucien..” She slid her hazel eyes onto his. “I’m perfectly fine. Are you alright?” She didn’t want to stay if he was frightened of her, which she thought could be the possibility. That might be the reason he was trying to get her away from him, which she didn’t blame him.

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

When her arm came up, he could feel himself tensing again. Vejul margul, she wasn’t holding a weapon, dammit! He knew that there was a reason why Raven was always shoving him out of the door. Was he always this uptight? Gah, how irritated this was, for someone who prided himself on being in total control?

She was a doctor, a healer, a good woman; or so his gut told him. She had brought him back to see the homeless man, despite the fact that he could be lying. And she had probably come over to greet him, not to attack. Perhaps it was time for him to sit out of a few missions. He was falling into battle too quickly.

He’d seen the outcome before; young soldiers who turned too hard, too fast. And while the latter didn’t pertain to him, he wasn’t a fan of losing all emotion. Maybe such useless things as passion and happiness, perhaps, but none of the others…

With a little shake of his head, he draped his jacket over his arm and watched her. Her smile seemed to flash in the darkness and he was taken aback; she looked so…young. Pure. A face for one of the angelic paintings he’d seen in his father’s study as a boy. He felt the need to turn away, and he glanced sideways at a worn tombstone at his feet. Quickly, he moved away so that he wasn’t standing on the grave.

Superstitions were like breaths to his people, he thought with an inner sigh. But he wouldn’t chance anything, given his current profession.

The sound of his name brought him back to reality, and he faced her again, a frown crossing his lips. Was he alright? Du, did he look sickly? He hadn’t been sleeping, but no one at the base had noticed. If the doctor had, and in this dark of night…damn, he’d be taken off of active duty without even having to declare himself on a break. Definitely a slap to his reputation.

“I am fine, doctor,” He said, none of his irritation showing in his voice. Suddenly, a small smile replaced the frown. “Ah, it seems like we ask the same question last time. Next, you will look for blood on my shirt. I can assure you that there is none…this time.”

God, was that an attempt at humor. Oi, he should just leave now. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shifted a bit, uncomfortable at his state of undress. His mother would have been shocked to death if she’d seen him now, and he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Funny, he didn’t normally think of the nicer days. Just the blood.

“Is a very quiet cemetery,” He went on. “Is why I come. Sometime…one needs somewhere quiet to sit. Away from the big city.”

[Mercedes Rowe]

The conflicting emotions that flitted across Lucien’s face worried Mercedes. It wasn’t that he appeared ill to her, but he looked worn, like he’d been beating himself up over something. As he looked at the headstones near him her eyes followed his. Was it to do with these people that lay buried beneath their feet? It could have been, but she wouldn’t know unless she asked. Was it really her business though? Whatever it was she suddenly felt this purpose to help him through it.

As a doctor she has seen so many times that people blame themselves for the deaths of loved ones or blame themselves for not being able to save them, which has them seeking some sort of vengeance. Was that it? Was he seeking vengeance over a death of a loved one? It was quite sad, really. She wished she could mend whatever was causing this man to look so..exposed.

It didn’t matter to her, whatever these conflicting emotions were. She would love to help him as a doctor or whatever he would accept her as, but she felt she owed him that, at the very least. He seemed like a wonderful man that had a lot to bear. For some reason she couldn’t quite accept that he hunted monsters like herself. It seemed ludicrous. Why would a man that cared for a homeless hunt after people such as her? No, no way. She shook her head and caused strands of her brunette hair to fall loosely around her face while she laughed with disgust at her inner thoughts. She really needed to get out more.

She looked up at the man that was invading her thoughts. The small smile on his face lit her eyes up. He made a joke about their first meeting and it brought a lovely smile upon her face. “I am sorry. It’s hard for me to not play the doctor. It’s the one constant thing in my life. I am at work more than I am doing anything else. That part of me is always on the forefront,” she smirked, appreciating his joke, “But, maybe I should check you over just in case.” Her smile widened as she carried the joke one step further.

She felt the first drops of rain against her raised cheeks. Her hazel eyes lifted skyward into the darkness, unable to see the clouds above. Her body felt the beat of the drum as thunder rolled. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and enjoyed the scent in the air. The charge that crinkled over the hairs of her arm confirmed the heavy storm that brewed above. When her eyes opened she stared at Lucien. He had a rare personality that she wanted to know more of. The way his eyebrows scrunched together, she wanted to smooth them over. She took a step forward, closing what little gap was left between them to see where the stars took them, but his words stopped her.

His words hit her hard. She lowered her gaze, staring at the gap between them. “Oh,” her smile dropped away and she bit the corner of her lip. “You were here seeking privacy. Oh..oh my God..” She could have shot herself for being so ignorant. “I’m- I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted you.” Now she understood why he spoke of getting her a taxi or walking her out. She was utterly ashamed for holding him away from such a personal moment. When she saw him there alone she should have never approached. Why else would he be sitting out here? It wasn’t for the view, but to have alone time whether for himself or people that were buried there.

She brought her hand sheepishly to her forehead, looking ashamed and embarrassed for interrupting him. “I’ll let you get back to that.” She took a step back, putting her bare foot on some pour souls grave. When she looked down and saw what she did, she quickly hopped off. She knew, as well, how disrespectful that was to stand on a grave.

Good way to offend someone. She groaned inwardly as she took another step back and slipped her knee-length black coat on. It covered up most of her form fitting dress. The shoes she still held in her hand would have to wait because an onslaught of rain slapped against her hair and face, along with a crash of lightning across the sky. The brief flashes of light outlined Lucien’s amazing body.

She frowned and thought the Gods were cruel. What had been their purpose for dropping a man such as Lucien at her feet? Was this some sort of test? Let’s see how long Mercy can control her inner resolve?

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

And it was hard for him not to play the soldier, he thought with an inner snort. But he was so doing his best not to tense and bark questions at her until rampant paranoia was assuaged. He was doing his best to make polite conversation, to put her at ease until it was his time to leave and be on his way. It just wouldn’t do to repay such a…gentle woman with the harshness of his personality.

But oh, as if he could stop certain thoughts from slipping into his mind. What would it be like to come home to a pair of soft, loving arms once again? To feel something other than the numbing cold that he kept himself wrapped in? Doctor Rowe was beautiful; even someone as jaded as he could recognize that. What if someone like her could—

He cut the thought before it could get too deep. No; none of that would do in his line of work. He was a soldier now, and would die a soldier. He’d made up his mind about that a long time ago, and he would not break his promise.

Not this one, at least.

Glancing down at his feet, he bit back an embarrassed grumble, hating the heat he felt crawling up his neck. Who in their right mind went walking barefoot around a cemetery so late at night? Du, she must think him some kind of weird person, and was showing him kindness because it was her way. Ack, there was no place in this city where he could sit and not end up embarrassing himself. First, there was his not understanding certain American jibes back at the base, then a few choice instances in the local coffee shops, when close proximity to strangers had made him bowstring tense. And now, of course, he was looking like a homeless man, taking shelter amongst the dead.

God, there was just no good luck for him. And case in point, when the good doctor proceeded to take his statement the wrong way, thinking he’d just chastisized her for interrupting his ‘me time.’

“Nu, nu, Doctor, I did not mean that you were interrupting…bah!”

With a muttered curse under his breath, Lucien hurried after her, briefly putting his hand on her shoulder. Immediately after she stopped, he removed it and took a respectful step back. Strange…he’d touched her, and a current had passed through his arm.

“I am sorry…my English is sometimes not good,” He said, a rueful smile passing on and off of his face. Absently, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was…ehm…making a remark. For polite conversation. I did not mean to offend you, or imply that you were interrupting me.”

Another wry smile flitted across his face, accompanied by some humorless laughter. “It has been a long time since I have…spoken about things not involving my job. But…is nice. I enjoy talking with you, Doctor Rowe.”

And, surprise, surprise, that was actually true. Normally, he was content to be the quiet, observant one in the background, more happy to listen than to speak. But he didn’t feel judged around the alluring doctor. There was no intimidation or uncertainty about her and it was refreshing. So…perhaps he should ‘go out on a limb,’ or so Raven put it.

He had nothing to lose, after all.

“I do not wish to interrupt you, Doctor, but…if you would allow me to dress myself properly, I would buy you coffee. Is a café open late and theirs is passable.”

[Mercedes Rowe]

Mercedes was on the verge of fleeing. It wasn’t that she felt chastised, but embarrassed that she had interrupted Lucien. Everyone needed a little ‘me’ time. She understood that a little all too well. After long hours in the hospital it was all about everyone else, but many of times she wished she had the time to sit alone. It was definitely hard in that sort of field. As caring as she was, the hospital life also made her a little withdrawn when it came to exposing her emotions, except when she was near Lucien. There was something about him that made her feel comfortable.

When he reached out and grabbed her shoulder she, too, felt the shock. It went straight through her core and the surprise showed on her face. Her hazel eyes held a confused look as she tried to understand this foreign feeling.

A small part of her was glad to hear that he didn’t mean for her to leave. And she understood his English perfectly well. It was bad on her part to assume that he was trying to usher her off. “There is no need to apologize. I understand your English perfectly. I shouldn’t have assumed that you wanted me to go, but sometimes I look a little too deeply into what people say.”

His words softened her look. He was such a soft man on the inside. The outside he looked and acted a little battle hardened, but what she wouldn’t give to wipe that hard look from his face. Her thoughts wandered on how she might do that, but it was thoughts that brought a blush to her face.

“I have enjoyed talking to you as well, Lucien,” she agreed with him. It was the reason she had approached him. What little time they spent together at the hospital she had enjoyed. It was refreshing to have an agreeable man in her company. He had impeccable manners and, not to mention, he was drop dead sexy. Even the wolf in her agreed. “I would like to hear more about you.”

His voice was so appealing. She loved the foreign accent. There wasn’t really anything she didn’t like about him. His job though, that part she was afraid to know. It reminded her of who she was. Lucien didn’t even know what she was. Would he think differently of her? She knew she’d have to eventually tell him, but she was afraid to right now. She didn’t want to miss this moment.

The rain that had started to gush around them didn’t even seem to bother her. She loved the feel and smell of it, but she did want to get under a roof before the wolf in her decided it would rather go for a run. That wouldn’t be quite ideal in this moment. She wasn’t ready to scare Lucien off.

His bare feet didn't bother her. She was used to being naked when she shifted in and out of her wolf form. It had become a part of who she was, something very natural to her now. If anything, she found his bare feet appealing.

She smiled tenderly as he asked her for coffee. “Coffee sounds wonderful, especially on such a wet night.” She held up her hand to catch the rain, but unexpectedly she reached for Lucien’s hand and playfully tugged him towards his things. The same shock she felt earlier slid through her arm, but she welcomed the feeling. “Let’s hurry before we get drenched or worse, get struck by lightning! But don’t worry. I’d save you if that happened.”

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

Soft inside? Pah, it was a good thing that Lucien wasn’t a mind reader! But that look on her face when he chanced a glance in her direction told him all that he needed to know; she wasn’t about to run, but she was thinking things about him that were not real. God, she should be able to sense with those modern day womanly instincts that she should run from him. He was a soldier, a killer, and without war, he was nothing.

Tch, of course the depression came down now, of all times. It couldn’t have come before when he was alone…with a mental growl, he shoved those dark little thoughts to the back of his mind, before his face could cloud and end up frightening the poor Doctor to running.

Because the truth was…he didn’t want her to run. As strange as it sounded; he enjoyed her company. Her voice was so smooth and pure, and her eyes didn’t judge. It was refreshing, almost. Like he was visiting a completely different society, alien from the military and all of its strictness.

But it would stay a vacation, he thought to himself. Just a cup of coffee, perhaps a chance meeting on the street…but nothing more. He wouldn’t give her illusions, and wouldn’t give himself hope. There was no such thing.

…Not that any of that actually stuck in his mind once she spoke again. She liked speaking to him? She wanted to know more about him? Good God, was that really his heart speeding up until he could feel telltale warmth around his ears? What, was he some kind of teenage boy thinking ‘oh yay, she LIKES me!’

Du, it was yes on all counts. He’d suddenly regressed from a ‘nearing 40’ year old man, to a teenager with a crush. God, this was going to be a long, long night.

With a frown, he turned his face up just as the rain began to fall. Of course, it would become wet and uncomfortable when he finally reached out and asked for some company. Making short time of his socks and shoes, he immediately stripped off his jacket, turning slightly to shake some of the water off, before holding it over her head. He was used to moving around in damp clothing, thanks to certain choice missions he’d been in over the years. But her…well, call him old fashioned, but he didn’t like to see ladies uncomfortable.

When she reached for his hand, those little sparks of awareness shooting up his arm, he instinctively pulled back, something akin to unease flickering across his face. He wasn’t worried that she was about to attack him, but old habits just seemed to take a long time to die. And he really didn’t like to be touched unless he really had to. It was probably one of the reasons why he didn’t mind being around his cursed friend so much.

But the movement would probably ring as an insult to the poor woman. Clearing his throat, he motioned for her to take his jacket.
“Ehm, you can use that to keep dry. Is very thick.” That small, almost rusty looking smile appeared on his face again as he glanced up at the thundering sky. “I’m sure you would, Doctor. Whether or not I deserve to be saved is another question entirely.”

The latter was muttered under his breath, as he motioned for her to proceed him. With hurried steps, they moved through the damp cemetery path, and without touching her, led her to the quaint all night café that he favored on nights like these. Once inside, he led her toward an empty booth at the back and sat facing the room.

The waitress shuffled over, plopped down two syrupy cups of coffee and some cream and shuffled right back to where she came from.

“They do not serve much at this hour,” Taking his black, he took a sip. Ah, talk about melting the enamel off of his teeth. “But coffee is not bad. You like? I can get something else for you if you prefer.”

[Mercedes Rowe]

If she only knew? If Lucien knew she was a werewolf he would probably run away faster than a panther. It was partly why she didn’t scare off so easily. She was tough as nails. She may look soft and pure as an angel, but she knew exactly what was caged up inside of her, constantly begging to be released and aloud to roam wild. Who wouldn’t be scared of that part of her?

It didn’t help when she went to grab his hand and he jerked it away. It sent her mind reeling. Was she reading into things he said and expressions he made a little too much? She was a fool to pretend anything could come of them. What she should do is walk away and pretend she’d never met him. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about hurting him or what he thought of her when he realized she was a monster.

Even as she thought it she looked up into his face and knew she wouldn’t be able to just walk away. He was going to have to walk away from her and she expected it to happen when he found out about her true identity. Oh, how she wished she could tell him, but she didn’t for fear that she would lose this moment with him. Was that fair to him though? Oiy, so many conflicting emotions. She felt like beating her head up against a brick wall.

His coat that hovered over her head to keep the rain out was such a warm gesture, but she tried to stay true to her feelings. She didn’t foresee this going anywhere, so she shouldn’t get mushy when he treated her like a lady….even if it did make her feel good about herself. She wasn’t a lady, she was a monster.

When he spoke and told her to take his jacket, she held up a hand and was about to push the jacket back at him, except he smiled. That smile warmed her to the very core. Without a protest, she took his jacket and pulled it over herself. “Thank you, Lucien,” she said. She picked up his hushed tones of what he said, but she didn’t want to poke too deeply. Her head turned slightly and she pushed her nose into his jacket. It smelled so wonderful. For a fleeting moment she let his scent envelope her and give into what it would feel like to have him wrap his body around hers. The thought made her absently pull his jacket tighter around her.

The wolf in her agreed about the smell. It tapped at her insides, still begging for a moment of release. The courage to fight it off was a battle all on its own, but she managed to do it every day. Her pupils changed into slits then quickly changed back.

She brought her head up when she realized what she had been doing, letting her nose linger over the scent of his jacket. His heavenly scent made her feel slightly intoxicated. What had she been thinking? She smiled sheepishly at him. She was content to see that they had already arrived at the café and thankful to get into an environment that she could clear her senses. A cup of coffee would do just the trick.

She sat at the booth he chose, her back to the door. She inhaled the aroma of the coffee. It was one of her favorite smells. When the waitress sat a cup down for her, she instantly wrapped her fingers around it and let the warmth ooze into them. After a long pull from the steaming cup, she glanced up at Lucien’s words. It hit her that since he’d jerked his hand away from her that she had become completely quiet, lost in her own reverie.

“No thank you,” she went to reach a hand over the table and pat his in a gentle gesture, but stopped herself. Her hand stopped midway and she pulled it back. “I love a strong cup of coffee. This is perfect.”

She let her eyes linger on his face for a moment. Oiy! Why did he have to be so attractive?

[Lt. Lucien Calugarul]

Continued in Coffee and awkwardness just don't mix.