The Girl That Makes Werewolves Fidget & Blush
The past few days went by as normal, Gavin had dropped enough hints that he would be leaving soon to browse new property for expansion. Which was why he found himself wandering around the mall, darting in and out of shops like an over-eager puppy. Packing for a vacation was usually easy, but when you didn't know where you were going you never knew what you might need. In his left hand, he clutched the handles of a few plastic bags, a couple of new shirts to replace the ones he would soon be missing. Hazel eyes were scanning the shelves, finally falling on the little packs of travel toothbrushes, complete with miniature tubes of toothpaste and mouth wash.

Whether or not Rosalyn already thought to pack things like that hadn't crossed Gavin's mind. The thrill that she had said yes was fueling his excitement to grab all the little things they may need. Hopefully, the vampire wouldn't take offence. Buying the travel sets, the werewolf walked out of the store and back into the mall, his head turning to gaze along the rows of shops. If he had been paying attention to where he was going, he wouldn't have suddenly bumped into the woman by his side. Startled and embarrassed, Gavin offered a slight grimace, "Sorry, my head was in the clouds."

"Whoa!" The man struck Hannah pretty lightly, so when she toppled into a fake palm tree and grabbed its trunk for balance, it was because of their size difference. The blonde was at least eight inches shorter. The heavy, ceramic pot full of moss and dirt kept the tree from budging. " 's okay!" she said, peering through the waxy fronds. The sharp, thin corner of a bladed leaf poked her eyeball. She emerged, squinting but uninjured. "I was just standing there like a lump on a log."

The mall was a special treat for Hannah. She hadn't set foot in one for years, because she hadn't needed malls while deceased, and there wasn't one within reasonable driving distance of Searchlight. A tiny budget didn't allow for a shopping spree, but she needed a few items, like footwear from a Payless sale. The pairs in her closet were a size too large. Hannah held a black, yellow, and orange plastic bag, which contained two shoe boxes. Inside, there were Converse knock-offs and wintry boots.

Gavin's lips quirked at the sides, even though he didn't laugh, his eyes looked like they were. His free hand was raised up to run over the short coarse hair on his head. The back of his neck was sticky, his shirt collar felt glued to his warm skin. "You don't look like you could be a lump anywhere." The werewolf shook his head, the young woman looked tiny as she emerged from behind the plastic tree. "Is your eye alright?" Gavin pointed, as if the woman would need help finding the one that was watering.

"It wasn't you, I should watch where I'm going, sometimes I forget my height." Which was not a smart thing to do, considering most things had the tendency to fall when he sauntered into them. Extending his hand, the werewolf smiled lightly, "I'm Gavin, I hope I haven't ruined the rest of your mall experience."

Hannah dabbed at her watery eye, scowling as a bit of blue eyeshadow smeared on her finger. Probably she should check a mirror and make sure she didn't have raccoon eyes. But her blurry vision cleared up, and she found herself looking at a very handsome man. "Holy crap," she said aloud. Hannah wiped the make-up on her jeans and shook his monstrous hand. The tiny, blonde hairs on her arm stood up. "Your shoulders are huge!" she said. "I mean, duh, I'm Hannah."

Shaking her head as if it reset a switch, she continued, "And it's not ruined. If the last pair of size six orange sneakers being gone didn't ruin it, neither did the palm tree."

Gavin tried desperately to act as if he hadn't just heard her, clearing his throat as he took his hand back while his cheeks tinged pink. "Well, it's nice to meet you Hannah." The werewolf stood there awkwardly for a moment, overly conscious of his own shoulders. "Did they say if they were getting them back in?" Orange was apparently quite a popular colour, he didn't even know you could get sneakers in orange, which showed how little he knew about fashion. "Another store might have them?" Perhaps he was being optimistic due to the fact that he had almost haphazardly blinded the poor girl.

She shrugged. "It's okay, I got pink." Hannah's powers of observation hadn't been fantastic during her short life, but spending time as a so-called higher being had given her the inside scoop on a lot of things. So she saw the flush on his face, and from it, Hannah gathered that he wasn't a typical 'beefcake', or he might've flexed or said something dumb like, 'I work out'. It struck her as fascinating that a guy so hunk-tacular didn't body-build for attention. She wondered how come he did it, then.

"Not as pink as your face is turning," she said, tucking pale yellow hair behind her earlobe. "Hey, what're you shopping for? Valentine's Day?" Being nosy, and also the sort to strike up random conversation, she was curious about his loot.

Suddenly the stubble on his cheek demanded to be scratched, and the werewolf took a moment before leveling her with an amused, albeit embarrassed gaze. "What, you don't think it's my colour?" This time Gavin did laugh, more at himself than anything else. The truth was he hadn't expected her to mention the blush that had worked its way over his features. At least it melted some of the awkwardness from his frame, leaving him more relaxed.

"Valentine's Day? Uhm no, just some things for traveling." A wave of panic ran down Gavin's spine like a sliver of ice, how could he have forgotten it was February already? How many days did he have left? Okay, now was not the time to freak out. "Is that what you're doing, shopping for Valentine's?" His hand indicated her own bag.

She twirled the bag's handles on an index finger. "Nope, these are for me. I find that even in times of economic woe, such as the current state in my bank account, it's nice to buy yourself treats. Also, I just like to own stuff," she said, holding up the bag and peering inside, as if the contents might've transfigured into something unexpected. Hannah had been quite the collector of bizarre furnishings in Searchlight and was considering a flea-market bonanza to redecorate Carrie's place.

"I'm starting all over from scratch. I had a bunch of hand-me-downs and stuff I didn't pick out myself. It wasn't my style, so I hauled it off in garbage bags to Goodwill. Now that I think about it, I probably should've found replacements first." Hannah lowered her arm. "I used to travel a lot, on like road trips. Are you going anyplace cool?"

The amusement in Gavin's eyes lit up his whole face. For such a tiny blonde, Hannah had a big personality, and the werewolf was thankful it was pleasant. Lifting his eyebrows, he tried not to look into her bags, being a private man insured he didn't pry too much. "Wait, you gave it away before you had replacements?" One large hand rubbed at the base of his clammy neck in bewilderment, "You literally have no furnishings in your home?"

That wasn't something Gavin would have done, he was far too practical and liked to get the details of plans before following through with them. Though he admired the spontaneity of such an act, it had gone to charity, Hannah's heart was in the right place. "Are you going to be able to cope until you get more stuff?" The thought of going home to nothing was upsetting to Gavin, he liked his creature comforts.

"Oh! No, I didn't give away all of it," she said, realizing how it sounded. "Just some. Like... the mattress... and the couch. And some of the clothes." Basically, anything without a hard surface she could disinfect or bleach. Now that Hannah knew what she did about Carrie's second job, she wasn't gonna get too cozy on the porous surfaces. The rest of the stuff, like Natalie's bedroom, she'd probably sell in yard sales and on Craigslist. It wasn't that she thought all sex workers were unhygienic; unfortunately, the clientele that had come a knockin' didn't give her much confidence in this one, sweet lady though she'd been.

Hannah lightly scratched her elbow. "I inherited it, and I found out some weird stuff post-mortem," she explained, shrugging. "What are ya gonna do."

Gavin was relieved for her, at least she still had some things, and wasn't just stuck with four bare walls and a floor. "That sounds better." The werewolf grinned slightly, his wrist twisting as he played the handles of the bag along his fingers, getting a more comfortable grip before he cut off the circulation. The plastic rustled quietly, "Do you know when you'll be getting another couch or are you just buying what strikes you first?"

It wasn't until he stopped to really think on what she said that Gavin blurted, "I'm sorry for your loss." He wasn't sure what else to say, but didn't want to upset Hannah, or cause an awkward moment. Flailing for another topic he asked as casually as he could, "Been in Chicago long?"

Her loss? Heck, it'd been her excellent gain! But Hannah didn't think she should get into that with a stranger. Waaay too complicated. "Distant relative," she said, by way of dismissing it. "We hardly knew each other. I dunno when I'll get a couch, though. I can't really afford it right now. I've only been in Chicago for about a month, so I'm..." The blonde sifted through choices of how to describe it. "I'm still catching up on expenses. If all else fails, I'll buy some lawn chairs and park them in front of the TV."

A belated thought occurred to her. "Hey, you didn't say where you're going on your trip. Does that make it super-secret spy stuff?" she asked, kidding around. "You look like you could be a special agent."

"Guess things worked out alright then, huh?" The werewolf rubbed the stubble on his chin and shifted from foot to foot, maybe there was somewhere they could sit down. "Do you want a coffee? I've been running around all day, my feet are starting to feel it." Gavin smiled sheepishly, his eyes fleeting across to the shop behind Hannah, selling shirts and different caps. A little too sporty for his own tastes.

"Well..." Gavin laughed, shaking his head, "I'm not a spy, although I wouldn't mind having some of their gadgets. I don't know where I'm going." The werewolf's shoulders were brought up in a carefree shrug, "It's just a matter of getting to the airport and getting on the first available flight. Random vacation."

Hannah blinked, wide-eyed. "Wow. Like a fugitive. I guess it's not any different than when I got in my old station wagon and drove cross-country. Okay, not cross-country, more like cross-southwest. I just bought a Rand-McNally map book and drove off into the sunset. It's kinda freeing." As for the coffee, she touched her neck and looked in the direction of the food court. Earlier on, she had smelled the coffee beans and considered stopping for a cup, but hadn't done it, because it was a pain to shop with a cup in her hand. But if they sat down to drink them, it'd be okay. It'd be nice to be served for a change, instead of pouring cups for customers.

Besides, there was something likable about Gavin. He felt familiar, but she wasn't sure how come. Hannah was in short supply of friends, so she wasn't going to turn down opportunities. "I could drink a coffee," she said. "And you can tell me more about you." Taking the lead, she began to walk towards the noise that came from the food court. "For instance. What do you do for a living?"

Startled about being classed in the same rank as a fugitive, possibly because it felt too close to home with his pack members, Gavin coughed as a sliver of his saliva went down the wrong tube as he breathed. Balling his hand into a fist, he brought it to his lips, wiping them as he gained his composure. "No, no no, I'm not a fugitive." Though to be fair, the way he acted about it, he could have been. Eyes darting around in case anyone else had heard, the werewolf wished he was smaller than he was. "How long did you do that for?" There were times where Gavin would just get in his car and drive, with no destination in mind, but he always arrived home before morning.

Following Hannah into the food court, the werewolf sniffed the air quietly, picking up the many different scents that lingered in the air. Not all of them something you would eat or drink. For instance, he knew without looking that the woman to the far side of the food court had a baby, who seriously needed changing. "More about me?" Gavin felt his lips give way to a slight grin, "I own a restaurant, what do you do?" The werewolf joined the line for getting a coffee, narrowly missing two teenagers running past, one carrying a skateboard. "What kind do you want?"

"A couple of months," she had said, in response to her southwestern travels, as they got into the queue. "I got to Lake Mohave in Nevada, near this itty-bitty town called Searchlight, and met some nice people so I decided to stay a couple years." In case Gavin asked how she got to Chicago, she went ahead and said, "I moved here because of the inheritance," which was a version of the truth.

Hannah stood on her tiptoes, even though the menu was elevated. She hemmed and hawed over her decision, before choosing a simplistic, "Hot chocolate with whipped cream." While the barista began making the brew, she lightly scratched her fingernails on the countertop, eyeing Gavin's profile. "So is your place nice? The restaurant... I wait tables in a pancake house, it's kind-of gross."

The werewolf ordered himself an iced coffee, and cringed at the ice being crushed, the sound rang in his ears for a few seconds. "I've been here most of my life, in Chicago." Cocking his head to the side, he watched as their drinks were made, his thick fingers already opening his wallet and selecting a few bills. They were pushed across the counter as their order was finished. Picking up Hannah's first, he handed it to the small blonde before grabbing his own. His lips found the top of his straw and he sucked in a mouthful of the cold liquid.

Pivoting on his heel, Gavin found a table close by that was free, and made his way over to it. Planting himself in one of the chairs, his bags safely tucked between his feet, "I like it, you wont find people sticking gum under the tables or shouting at each other anyway." The base of Gavin's neck itched, his hand lifting to rub haphazardly over the area as he spoke, "Do you like working there?"

Hannah thanked him for the drink and sat down, placing her bag of shoes in a neighboring chair, and scooting it under the table. There was a daunting mound of whipped cream on her drink. She poked her stirrer at it, then carefully lifted a dollop to her waiting mouth. "Mm... it's okay, I guess," Hannah said, licking the sticky sugars from her lips. "It makes me nostalgic. I worked in a diner in Nevada, too, so I know the drill and I'm good with regulars. Especially crotchety old ones."

She sipped her hot chocolate.

"But the tips aren't so good and," trailing off, lifting narrow shoulders in a shrug, "Sometimes crazy people come in there at 4am, even though it's supposedly a 'family' restaurant." What kind of family went out to eat twenty-four hours, she wasn't sure, but none she'd encountered. "We get some demons sometimes, coming in for cheap meals. They don't bother me." Taking a second sip, she was struck anew by how delicious it was and made an appreciative sound.

Somehow Gavin could imagine Hannah not letting anything really bother her at work, like water off a duck's back, she just shined with that kind of personality. He was laid back, but every now and then even his temper could flare, the animal residing inside him made sure of that. Idly his teeth worked on the top of the straw, chewing it until it was flat, the werewolf then took a liberal sip. "Crazy people? Like, off their rocker crazy or just random weirdos?" That didn't sound like a good job for a young woman to have, and Gavin couldn't help but see her as tiny, so in his mind that was certainly not a safe job for her.

Gavin choked mid sip, his hand covering the spray of coffee just in time before it hit the table, or worse, Hannah. "Demons?" The werewolf wheezed, struggling to pull air into his lungs. "You're fine with... People who aren't completely human?" This was interesting, she seemed so relaxed about it, and there he was. Tense and awkward. Small hairs on the back of his neck stood up, Gavin ignored them, his rough palm rubbing across his grizzly jaw instead.

"Sure," she said light-heartedly. "What's the big deal?" Hannah crossed her legs and let her small tennis shoe bob beneath the table. "It doesn't matter if you're human or not, just if you're good or evil. People can be just as mean as anything else. At least with demons, you know where you stand pretttty darn quick, whereas people will lie their heads off for months... years even!"

She had a way of declaring opinions as if they were solidified facts, with enthusiastic Pixie Wisdom. "In Nevada, there were a lot of them living out there in the desert. When the secret got out, a lot of people already knew. Once, I even dated a werewolf. Another time, a magic guy. Actually," she scrunched her nose, "It's kinda tricky, we may or may not still be dating, I can't tell." She slurped up some hot chocolate.

Gavin was quiet for a moment, the cogs in his head turning as his fingers toyed with his straw absently. Hannah's words were echoing in his head, people will lie their heads off for months, "Then I have a confession..." He didn't want to be that guy, the one who lied about who he was, with false pretenses. Hazel eyes looked around before settling on the young woman's face once more. "I'm a werewolf. Please don't take that the wrong way, I don't maul people." At least, he was certain he never had.

There was a few seconds where his large hands fumbled on the table for something to do, finger tips drummed lightly, "So you're human?" For a moment, the word 'normal' had been on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it. Society made its own variation of normal, personally he thought he was perfectly normal. Everyone had their own views.

"Of course you don't maul people," she said, leaning forward with renewed energy. This explained why the hairs on her arms stood up when they shook hands. He was pumped full of earth energy! "You're the... one, two, three, four..." Hannah counted through her memories of Devon, Julie, Byron, and Oz in Nevada. "Yep, fifth werewolf I've met, so far as I know!" She held up a finger. "And all three were very cool, non-mauling types, though I have heard of the other kind. Ulgh!" She shivered.

The tiny blonde brought her knees against her chest and hugged them. "Yep, I'm human. But... hmph, how do I say this without you wigging out." Hannah shook her head. "Whatever, I'll just blurt it out. I used to be dead, but only for a little while, and I'm fine now, thank you very much. I can do this thing where I channel elemental energy... you know, like earth, air, fire, water... blah blah blitty..." She flicked her fingers dismissively. "Once, I was using it to try and heal somebody, and I overdid it. But even death has loopholes."

Blinking, the werewolf sat stumped for several seconds before finally laughing. "The fifth? Look at you, finding all the different species. Are you sure you're not the spy?" Gavin wiggled his eyebrows deliberately, the grin curving his lips in an almost crooked fashion, "I'll be honest, for a minute there I was worried about how you'd react. It's not something I'm ashamed of, but I'm all too aware that people can be funny about it."

Sipping his iced coffee, his thumb rubbed at the sweating plastic cup, creating droplets of water that splashed the table. "You were dead?" Gavin had to make sure his voice didn't raise up at the end, he didn't want to draw attention to them, but jesus christ. "You channel energy, but you're not a witch?" This was news to him, the werewolf had never come across anyone like that before, and he'd met his fair share of demons and mixed species. "How did you die, and get brought back?" There was no doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth, he could just feel it.

Hannah screwed up her face in thought. "Well, first I should warn you that what I'm about to say flies in the face of Christianity, and actually most religions. Maybe all of 'em! But I don't know that for sure. For all I know, there might be some tribal jungle hut people that have it all figured out."

Taking a sip of melted chocolate, the blonde fortified herself for the explanation ahead. Then she leaned quite close, as if imparting a delicate secret that could plunge the world into chaos if the wrong ears heard it. "So. There's a mysterious race of beings called the Powers That Be. According to them, they were born in the 'inferno of creation', but I mean, who knows, maybe an ancient stork brought 'em. I dunno. Anyway, they live in an alternate dimension, but they watch us. People, I mean. Sometimes they interfere to keep the balance struck between good and evil." Hannah began to draw on the table with her index finger; nothing but random patterns, but it kept her focus away from things like french fry smell and toddlers with balloons on their wrists.

"My friend Whistler got polluted by really bad mojo. It was turning him into a raging looney-bin psycho. So I attempted to use pure energy to give him a good flush. But I gave him too much of my life energy, too, and I croaked. The PTBs snatched me up and made me one of their Agents. Like, a meddler. I'd have to transport people's souls to the other side, and speak to the living for dead people, and a bunch of other crazy stuff. But I didn't want to do it, and I kept hearing people say the PTBs give information, but they never directly interfere, and I thought that was horse crap, considering they had me interfering all willy-nilly. Then I realized I actually had a choice, but they hid it in fine print. So I found a girl who wanted to trade places with me, and voila!" She spread her hands. "Back on Earth, just with somebody's dirty mattresses and sofa cushions."

There was something about Hannah that made Gavin trust her, and despite the fact that they only just met, he liked her. Resting his elbows on the table, Gavin let his bristled chin rest in his palms as he gave the blonde his full attention, listening to everything that she said. "I wont lie, that's a hell of a lot to take in." The werewolf laughed, the sound bubbling from his mouth and spilling over his lips. "These forces, they really watch everything?" That was kind of creepy, but then again, it was almost like people believing in God. Wasn't he meant to see everything too?

"Alright, since we're being so honest, I guess it's my turn." Perhaps he should be careful with what he said, but the young woman had been so upfront it was almost compelling. With a heavy sigh, the werewolf sank deeper into his chair, his boots crackling the plastic of his bags as they shuffled. "I'm the Alpha of a pack. Pretty big group too. We only initiate family, unless there's an extreme case. Only men, when they reach the age of eighteen." Gavin paused, the tip of his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth, "My restaurant caters to them, on a selective menu that's reserved. Their tables are always at the back, closer to the kitchen. It stops customers asking about their meals. Usually, the women of my men work as waitresses, so that every family is provided for. That's important, you know?"

Letting his head fall back, Gavin looked at the ceiling, his teeth chewing the the inside of his cheek. "We don't mean harm but we are protective of our own and our territory." Then something peculiar happened, his voice dropped, becoming very quiet. "We keep vampires off our territory, they're our..." Rivals, enemies, bane of existence? "It's the rules, that were set down for us by the founders of our pack centuries ago."

Hannah was mesmerized by his story, in part because it gave her insight into what Devon's faraway pack might be like. The part about family, of belonging to a pack, intrigued her, and she felt some stirrings of envy. Hannah's last close relative had been her grandmother, who died in 2007. On holidays in Searchlight, she surrounded herself with friends. All she could hope was that she made new ones in Chicago. "I get the vampires part. I know a nice one, but just one; the rest are mostly awful." There was one thing, though, she didn't understand.

"How come women can't be werewolves?" The blonde's eyebrows furrowed. "Or cooks?"

Tilting his head, Gavin offered a soft smile at her curiosity, not minding it all. "It's the rules. We've been brought up to look after women, and that kind of life just wouldn't be the best, for any girl. The change is..." Gavin trailed off, his face grim as he remembered the searing pain. "It's in their best interest." At least, he believed that it was, he couldn't imagine subjecting a woman to that kind of life. "Oh they can be cooks, actually a few are, for the most part they tend to pick their hours, so waiting tables is usually the first one they grab." Gavin nodded slightly, adding quickly, "We hire other people too, friends of families and people we trust." Trust was a huge part of it, but the werewolf didn't think on that long, considering he was currently breaking the packs. "What do you make, working at the diner?" That was a very personal question, but sometimes it was better just to ask up front rather than beat around the bush.

Then he sat up straighter, intrigued, his hazel eyes locking onto Hannah's. "You know a nice one? What are they like?" This was interesting, in fact, somewhere in the pit of his stomach a little seed of hope grew. Surely he wasn't the only one to take a vampire as a lover and companion. Did he dare tell Hannah that? Would she tell anyone, she was still practically a stranger, it took more than one coffee to change that. Oh, but how he longed to actually say the words out loud. The consequences, however, kept his tongue from moving.

"Hmph," had been Hannah's response to the werewolf information. It seemed strange to her, not exactly sexist but overly protective of what Hannah considered her rather kick-butt gender, but she internally coached herself not to judge things she didn't know much about. Oh, sure, once she knew at least 75% of the story, she felt okay judging until the cows came home, but maybe his pack had their historical reasons. "Guess you can't mate for life," she concluded, "Unless you're gay. Bummer."

Then back onto the topic of vampires. "The vampire I know best is named Victoria. We met in a prisoner situation. It happened before 2012, so it's off the public record, but these Scourge demons kidnapped people and demons and forced us into work camps." She shook her head. "Why anybody'd think I'd be useful at manual labor, I dunno. I weigh ninety-eight pounds! But I digress. That's where I met Vicky. We had adjacent cots. You can make the strangest friends in survival situations, ya know?" Hannah combed her hair back. "She eats people, I don't fool myself about that, but she's never tried to eat me and as far as I know, she only does it because of being hungry and also thinking it's sexy." Hannah nodded. "Her sire, Deanna? She'd eat me. She's really sassy and funny, but I don't kid myself. My friend Mallory dated Vicky for a while, but they broke up because Vicky wanted to turn her and Mallory was like, um, no way, Jose."

"You can mate for life, you just have to be very careful. When you love someone I guess it gets easier?" Although perhaps he shouldn't have asked about vampires, because the next rush of words from Hannah floored him. Bemused, he smiled, and shook his head, knowing already half the information hadn't sunk in.

Coughing slightly, Gavin sipped at his coffee, figuring that the question about what she made at her job was too personal and that's why she didn't answer. "I don't mean to be rude." The werewolf lifted up his hands, a signal of peace, "I was just wondering if you'd be interested in working for me. You don't have to say yes, but you can think about it? If you want to give it a try, you can call me here, and we'll set up a try-out." Gavin pulled out a slim card from a crease inside his wallet, his name and number printed above the address of his restaurant, and handed it to the blond. "I like you." He grinned, shrugging softly.

Hannah had gotten so waylaid by her explanation of her 'good vampire friend' that she forgot the salary question. There was no shame in her game; she would've told him she made peanuts. "Me, really? Oh man." She took the card and looked at it. Wow... work at a restaurant where the management had actual business cards? The place was called Vine's and apparently Gavin Munyard was the sole owner. Hannah gave him a suitably impressed look. "Very nice, Mr. Munyard!" she said, nodding and flicking the card. "I will definitely call."

Heck, even if he could only offer part-time hours, she could combine it with her time at the pancake house and crawl out of Carrie's debt a little faster. Hannah tucked the card safely in her wallet. Then she narrowed her eyes playfully. "It's because I said I dated a werewolf, isn't it. I'm in the know." Good lord, considering Hannah had nursed a flirtation with Byron for a few weeks, maybe Gavin should worry about setting her loose around a pack of werewolves. Should she warn him?

...Nah.

"Well I hope so, I'll be the one doing your interview." Gavin teased, relaxing back into his chair again and sipping his coffee. "You don't have to call me mister anything, I'm Gavin, remember?" The werewolf cocked his head to the side, enjoying the calm knowledge of knowing he had done something good. The same feeling he was hoping to share with Rosalyn once they got to wherever they were going, preferably sometime soon.

Gavin's shoulders hunched as he tried to stop his laughter, "You're in the know, huh?" He wasn't making fun of her, exactly, it was more to do with the way she had said it. So certain and mischievous that he in turn felt its effects. "Does that mean I should keep an eye on you?" It was the werewolf's turn to try and look serious, and he almost pulled it off, until his eyes crinkled at the sides.

"Oh, absolutely!" Hannah said, crossing her arms. "I'm a trouble-maker. Ask anybody." She maintained her expression, even as her heart did a flip-flop when Hannah realized she'd have to stand on Carrie's old job references from now on. At least she had already told Gavin about her personal situation (aka temporary death), which explained the difference between her legal name on paperwork and what she called herself. On the bright side, nobody would be calling Verlie for an opinion and getting an earful about the time Hannah chained herself to a bar stool and refused to leave the Nugget until she got her job back.

"But it's the fun kind of trouble," she amended. "I'm a very good employee, but we can get into that during the interview."

Hannah finished her hot chocolate.