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Captains (Uno, Lyra, & the Shepherds)

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"She said I love you,"

BANG. BANG.

Two shots rang out, one from Mercer's booth, one from Clay's.

"Oooh.." Clay cringed visibly.

"Even worse, I think it was on accident."

Mercer loaded bullets into the cartridge with his long fingers, then a click as he pushed the cartridge back into the .28.

"Oooooooh.." Clay sighed, then hissed between his teeth, following up with a tsk tsk tsk and a head shake, setting down the handgun and picking up another one. He adjusted the target distance.

BANG.... BANG.... BANG....

The smell of gunpowder and the sounds of the range were overpowering to a humans senses. To a werewolf, it was all that more potent. There was not only gunpowder, but also the smell of hot metal, burning paper where the bullets met the target, traces of everyone who had been through here. You could pick up pretty quickly who was comfortable holding a weapon and who got sweaty palms.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Clay asked, raising a single eyebrow high over the safety glasses.

"You know, stop calling her, change my locks-"

"MAN, you gave her a key?! What is WRONG with you?" a few more shots, then Clay pulled the target back in. "Geez man, look, threw me off my game, I missed my mark. That's all you. Trade off."

Mercer fired out the last few rounds from the .28, then passed a second gun on the desk in front of him to Clay, before reloading.

"Forget about it. Not my type anyway." a defeated sigh.

"You even alive? Are you sure you ain't a zombie? Your type being the undead? ... Not one of us though." Clay's tone became more serious now.

"I know, it's for the best."

"Right."

"What do you think of the new guy?" Mercer was eager for a subject change.

"I don't. I'm not gonna think anything til I get to spend some time with him. I think, Chapman's been in this game a long time and has some sense about him. Just a lot of moving pieces all at once, and Delgado on top of it all."

Clay wouldn't elaborate, the rest was between him and Delgado, but the looks exchanged, and the silence from the other night was unmistakably a challenge.

"I think he would have been happier if you two had it out, all teeth and claws, for the rank." They began to clean up the ammo and load the guns into cases.

"Yeah, prob'ly." Clay laughed joylessly under his breath.

It was a Monday.

A busier day for your average police officer. Mondays meant more traffic-late morning starts, people trying to catch up, trying to beat the clock and find their way into that wormhole that would get them the five minutes back so they could show up on time. Road rage when they realized the wormhole didn't exist and that they would have to tell their bosses that they lost track of time.

Thankfully for Delgado, traffic wasn't his department. It was really none of the werewolves, that was left up to the humans to deal with. Of course, they could-and did-handle them when they saw a hazard presented. It just wasn't a priority.

That went without saying, loners and Svalnaglas were the first priority.

Technically, suspended precariously between two claimed territories, Chapman played an openly rigged game. They didn't encroach Pinerich, and they didn't encroach Reknab Bend unless given a reason to.

They picked up loners, strays, and relocated them, the same way that they'd relocated Mercy and her son out of the Phantom Mountains.

Bob changed his plans and decide to go camping with the new guy and Tara. So Reggie sat alone at the diner, staring out the window to his left and eating his fries without giving them any real thought.

Reggie breathed a deep sigh and his nostrils flared. Just then a waitress came up behind him and refilled his coffee,

"Can I get you some dessert?"

"No, thank you. Keep the change." he smiled politely at her, turning his head only briefly and handing her a bill, before turning it back to the streets, looking past his own reflection in the window. His eyes rested on James St. Across from the diner was a bookstore, a pet-store and an electronics place.

Reggie was a polite man, and had been raised up on "yes ma'am" and "yes sir", he didn't believe in using his first language around people who couldn't speak it, and would always err on the side of not offending anyone.

Something switched when Clay got the promotion. Maybe it was the timing-the breakup was still fresh. The relationship had been heavily criticized by all of his pack mates, and maybe he perceived it as feeling as though they had won. Then the promotion was announced-and while he had been provided all of the same training as Clay, he wasn't even considered.

He had intended to tell Bob everything - get it all out in the open, be vulnerable, and was fully willing to hear Bob out. Then the plans changed. Now he sat, a heavy shadow about his person. The air itself felt heavier around him.

Reggie rolled his large shoulders and shook his head, before standing to leave the diner.

Officer Lyra Tores was not a big fan of Mondays. And not for the typical reason. Technically she was always on call, so weekends certainly weren't sacred to her. No, she hated Mondays just out of the principle of the thing. People were always crankier than usual on Mondays. Crankier than any other day or time. ...Except maybe full moons... the day before a storm... Tuesdays too, sometimes... or Friday evenings... or...

"People are just cranky all the time," she told Tyrrany. "They don't even need an excuse."

She couldn't see the K-9's face, since he was in his carrier and she was driving, but she was sure that he would be giving her a knowing look.

"You get it, mi amigo. But you are more forgiving than I am."

They were on their way back to the station after a false alarm. Someone had called in a potential drug situation at the high school, but it turned out to be a bunch of kids with powdered sugar.

"Ahh, you were disappointed, huh, boy?"

Tyranny was disappointed. Unlike his handler, the dog lived for the action, the thrill of tracking down his quarry, and he especially liked it when they ran. Lyra didn't mind a false alarm as much. It was an excuse to get out on the street and get some air, without any of the drama a real life situation would entail. But she could hear Tyranny panting in his carrier. He wasn't hot; her patrol car was well ventilated and designed to taxi him comfortably. He was tense. Nothing frustrated him like a false alarm. The excitement and build-up fizzling out in a long ride back to the station.

A pet store caught her eye and she decided to pull over. Call it patrol. But she'd get him a treat and maybe let him walk some of his frustration out.

Reggie was adjusting his shirt outside the store front and making a final checking his uniform and hair in the window of the diner, when he saw the patrol car park in the reflection. She hadn't seen him, his own patrol vehicle was parked around the block.

He turned met Tyranny's eyes behind the tint of the patrol cars windows.

"K-9 unit." Reggie muttered at the irony. They had a big enough K-9 unit. Although you couldn't exactly send a werewolf to go sniff a kids backpack.

Axel and Tyranny had been at the funeral, and so had Lyra, and several other members of the precinct - among them, Reggie.

The dogs knew. They could always tell. Maybe if Kimberly had heeded their warnings, she would still be around. They knew because they knew Bob, and Reggie, and all of the other werewolves in the precinct weren't the same as the rest of the people.

Lyra was their handler now, and took on the role well. He didn't know much about her outside of her name. Until recently, he tried not to acknowledge her, or any woman at the precinct, or any woman anywhere - his eyes had been for one alone.

And yet, now he found himself crossing the street with a raised hand.

"Officer Torres."

Lyra had just gotten out of her car when she heard Reggie's voice. She turned around, surprised. "Oh, hey Reg!" she said, and instantly regretted it. What was one supposed to call a senior officer who goes by 'Reggie'? Reggie seemed too personal and Reginaldo sounded way too formal. Just calling him 'Officer Delgado' didn't occur until far, far too late.

She coughed and cleared her throat. "Delgado. What's up?"

What's up? ...Really?

Well it couldn't get more awkward than that. Nothing to do but rise from the ashes. She closed the car door and went around to open up the back to get Tyranny out of his carrier.

She cast a quick look over her shoulder at Reggie and flashed a polite smile. Let the K-9 out and once he was comfortingly by her side she turned around to face her approaching co-worker.

Reggie watched Lyra metaphorically stumble with a gentle raised eyebrow and a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. He had an easygoing disposition but never let his posture slacken.

"I heard on the scanner- you got a false alarm at the school? Kids, ayy.." he quickly skipped past the awkward introduction for Lyra's sake.

He at Tyranny and then the pet store. "On a break?' he asked, resting a hand on his belt.

"Yeah," Lyra said, happy to skip the awkward. "'Cept it wasn't even the kids this time. They were legit. Some busybody thought it was drugs but they're making powdered donuts for like a fundraiser or something."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, taking a quick fifteen for a bite. How about you?"

"You're kidding." he rubbed a large hand over his face and shook his head.

"I have the late shift, so I start in about.." he looked at his wristwatch, "An hour... I was supposed to meet Chapman for lunch before my shift, but I guess he forgot." he gestured back towards the diner.

"That's not very long for a bite." he observed, "Let me order you something while you walk him. What do you like?"

"Oh yeah, Tara said something about a camping trip yesterday," Lyra said, as if they'd actually had a chat about about it and she hadn't just overheard one side of a conversation over the phone as she was walking past Tara's office.

She happened to glance down at Tyranny then, and a strange look came to her face. The dog had calmed down considerably, sitting next to Reggie. Staring meaningfully at Lyra. With one paw raised, like he was asking for a shake, but not quite that high. Like maybe he had a splinter. But he didn't. Lyra knew he didn't.

She gave Reggie a double take. He was saying something about buying her lunch, and her heart skipped a beat realizing she'd missed half of what he said when she'd been distracted by Tyranny.

"W-what? Oh, I mean, you don't have to do that..." she started, then looked a little wistful. "I mean, I'd appreciate it. Thanks."

More wistful still. "Uh, Delgado, you... You haven't been in the woods lately, have you?"

Reggie looked down at the dog. Officer Torres asked about him going into the woods. What did that have to do with the signal the dog was making?

"No. I was at my sisters quinceañera yesterday-in the country, I mean, there's woods around my parents property. He's probably picking up on that."

He gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. "Hey, pal, you're off the clock. Go get a treat." Reggie pointed to the pet store.

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