snapped.
"Heh, sorry, was admiring the landscape."
"Uh-huh, I'll bet." I dunked my shirt in the bucket and applied a healthy covering of water over his chest. He yelped and tried to squirm away, but I held onto his arm and washed the blood off him.
"Are you trying to kill him?" he exclaimed.
"No, now stop squirming," I commanded.
"Aren't women supposed to be gentle?"
"I'm just trying to distract you from your carnal desires," I quipped.
"But I don't want to be distracted!"
"Don't be such a baby. Hasn't this happened to you before?"
"The wounds, yes, the horrible treatment afterword, no."
"Fine, I'll stop torturing you." To be honest I'd been eager to see if he had any bullets still in him, but all I saw were shallow holes where they'd sat when he'd been in his werewolf form. Mind you, those were bad enough and I looked around for some covering.
"I'll tell you where the blankets are if you promise not to kill me," Greg spoke up.
I snapped my attention back to him. "How'd you know what I was thinking?"
"It's written on your face."
"I hope not in permanent ink, that stuff's impossible to get out."
"You do tend to wear your thoughts on your sleeve."
"Then I just scrubbed them all over your chest, but where's this secret stash?"
Greg nodded at the stall opposite us. "I hid supplies beneath the boards just in case I'd need to come here after some trouble."
"I'm pretty sure this qualifies as trouble." I scampered over and soon found the loose board. There was a hole beneath it, and out of that I dragged a heavy metal box. Inside were blankets, medicine supplies, and even a couple of changes of clothes. I also noticed some driver's licenses with names I didn't recognize but the face was always Greg. There was even a baseball card wedged between the licenses, an old one from the twenties. I pulled the box over to our stall and unloaded the blankets. "Mind telling me why you had this stuff ready here just in case of trouble?" I asked him.
"You know me, always getting into some mess," Greg joked. He tried to sit up, but I put my hands on his shoulders.
"I'm starting to think I don't really know you at all, but I kind of think you should be lying flat, or you're going to end up flat forever," I advised him.
He chuckled. "I'm a quick healer, and if I was going to die I'd like to do it at least sitting up." I frowned, but tucked my hands beneath his arms and hefted him up to a sitting position. He leaned against the stall wall and sighed. "I really did it this time."
"Yeah, those aren't pretty wounds," I agreed.
He shook his head. "Not that, with you. I've dragged you into more trouble than you deserve."
I looked away into the box and shrugged. "If you hadn't shown up all the times you did I'd be in worse trouble, but I guess it's alright now. I don't think we'll need to worry about all those with their boss gone."
Greg cringed. "There might be a problem with that."
I glanced back to him and frowned. "What do we have to worry about? Didn't you kill whats-her-name?" I asked him.
"That's the problem. I don't think I did."
"How can you be unsure about killing someone?"
"I managed to cut one side of her face, but only one side and not very deep," he explained to me. "Then more of her goons came in and hit me with a wall of bullets. Even being a werewolf I'm not completely invincible, and I had you to worry about."
I narrowed my eyes. "And speaking of being a werewolf, you'd better have been joking about putting your blood in my coffee. I only take sugar in mine."
Greg sheepishly grinned. "I'm afraid that part's a little true." My eye twitched, and he defensively held up his hands. "You won't injure an injured man, would you?"
My teeth ground together and my hands twitched at my side. "You're not a man, you're a werewolf."
"And so are you. The werewolf part, that is, and before you kill me I might remind you that I'm the only werewolf around who can help you with the change."
I didn't really want to strangle
"Heh, sorry, was admiring the landscape."
"Uh-huh, I'll bet." I dunked my shirt in the bucket and applied a healthy covering of water over his chest. He yelped and tried to squirm away, but I held onto his arm and washed the blood off him.
"Are you trying to kill him?" he exclaimed.
"No, now stop squirming," I commanded.
"Aren't women supposed to be gentle?"
"I'm just trying to distract you from your carnal desires," I quipped.
"But I don't want to be distracted!"
"Don't be such a baby. Hasn't this happened to you before?"
"The wounds, yes, the horrible treatment afterword, no."
"Fine, I'll stop torturing you." To be honest I'd been eager to see if he had any bullets still in him, but all I saw were shallow holes where they'd sat when he'd been in his werewolf form. Mind you, those were bad enough and I looked around for some covering.
"I'll tell you where the blankets are if you promise not to kill me," Greg spoke up.
I snapped my attention back to him. "How'd you know what I was thinking?"
"It's written on your face."
"I hope not in permanent ink, that stuff's impossible to get out."
"You do tend to wear your thoughts on your sleeve."
"Then I just scrubbed them all over your chest, but where's this secret stash?"
Greg nodded at the stall opposite us. "I hid supplies beneath the boards just in case I'd need to come here after some trouble."
"I'm pretty sure this qualifies as trouble." I scampered over and soon found the loose board. There was a hole beneath it, and out of that I dragged a heavy metal box. Inside were blankets, medicine supplies, and even a couple of changes of clothes. I also noticed some driver's licenses with names I didn't recognize but the face was always Greg. There was even a baseball card wedged between the licenses, an old one from the twenties. I pulled the box over to our stall and unloaded the blankets. "Mind telling me why you had this stuff ready here just in case of trouble?" I asked him.
"You know me, always getting into some mess," Greg joked. He tried to sit up, but I put my hands on his shoulders.
"I'm starting to think I don't really know you at all, but I kind of think you should be lying flat, or you're going to end up flat forever," I advised him.
He chuckled. "I'm a quick healer, and if I was going to die I'd like to do it at least sitting up." I frowned, but tucked my hands beneath his arms and hefted him up to a sitting position. He leaned against the stall wall and sighed. "I really did it this time."
"Yeah, those aren't pretty wounds," I agreed.
He shook his head. "Not that, with you. I've dragged you into more trouble than you deserve."
I looked away into the box and shrugged. "If you hadn't shown up all the times you did I'd be in worse trouble, but I guess it's alright now. I don't think we'll need to worry about all those with their boss gone."
Greg cringed. "There might be a problem with that."
I glanced back to him and frowned. "What do we have to worry about? Didn't you kill whats-her-name?" I asked him.
"That's the problem. I don't think I did."
"How can you be unsure about killing someone?"
"I managed to cut one side of her face, but only one side and not very deep," he explained to me. "Then more of her goons came in and hit me with a wall of bullets. Even being a werewolf I'm not completely invincible, and I had you to worry about."
I narrowed my eyes. "And speaking of being a werewolf, you'd better have been joking about putting your blood in my coffee. I only take sugar in mine."
Greg sheepishly grinned. "I'm afraid that part's a little true." My eye twitched, and he defensively held up his hands. "You won't injure an injured man, would you?"
My teeth ground together and my hands twitched at my side. "You're not a man, you're a werewolf."
"And so are you. The werewolf part, that is, and before you kill me I might remind you that I'm the only werewolf around who can help you with the change."
I didn't really want to strangle
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