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Geoff's plan to take Naomi back to her job was sidelined for a few days after the Laurell incident. He had wanted to get her back to work almost immediately, particularly because he thought that would be really unexpected, but Lou put her foot down on the matter until they could be reasonably sure there would be no more sleepwalking episodes. He didn't know whether having Laurell sleep in their place was helping or not, but regardless, after several nights passed with nothing happening, he broached the subject again.
"Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?" Lou had asked him.
"Honestly? No." Geoff didn't believe in sugar coating things. All it did was ruin your teeth. "But I do know it's not what they intended for us to do, and for no other reason that gives us an advantage. Sometimes that's enough."
She was obviously not satisfied with the response, but Geoff wasn't about to sit around and wait for the next thing to just happen to them. He wanted to go on the offensive to some extent, and this felt like the closest approximation. It helped that Naomi wanted to go back, too.
"I like my job," she'd said when Geoff and Lou had brought her into the conversation. "And I was just getting to know people there." She had been shell-shocked immediately after the incident at the tavern, but she and Blysse must have talked it out between themselves because shortly thereafter she was more firmly on Geoff's side of the issue.
Now they were sitting outside the tavern in the rental SUV. He and Elisa had gone back to where he'd parked it two days after the attack, half expecting that it had been towed (it would have been a nice fuck-you from Agent Traxler). To his surprise it was right where he'd left it. He didn't fully discount the possibility that someone had come back and done something to it – put in listening devices or trackers – but they already knew where the wolves lived, and he still suspected the duplexes were bugged, given what he had already discovered.
They sat out front – unknowingly, in almost the exact same spot from which Father Brown and Agent Traxler had surveyed the place just a few weeks prior – waiting for the opening crew to arrive. Geoff could tell that Naomi was nervous, even without his preternatural senses informing him of the fact. She fidgeted in her seat, twirling a lock of hair absently in her fingers, not taking her eyes off the front door. There were no lingering signs of the altercation with the priest and his followers; they appeared not to have made the sidewalk outside one of their permanent spots for impromptu public sermons.
"You okay with this?" Geoff asked. The whole crux of his plan was for Naomi to return to a state of somewhat normalcy, to show bigots and bureaucrats alike that they wouldn't be run out of town. The term that Lou ended up coining for his plan was "aggressive mundanity" which tickled him more than he let on.
"Yes," Naomi replied, not taking her eyes off the front door. Her tone was flat and rather unconvincing.
Geoff frowned, though she couldn't see it with her head turned. "What are you so worried about, then?"
She turned then, her eyes stormy. At least she didn't try to insult him by denying the truth of his words. "You're kidding, right?"
"I never kid, you should know that by now."
Naomi let out an exasperated sigh. "I was nearly attacked in there the other night. They had a gun, Geoff!" She shivered at the memory.
"I'm well aware," Geoff replied evenly. "I was there too, remember?"
She shook her head at him and turned back to resume looking at the bar's door. Her next words were directed at the car's window. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand."
Geoff thought he did. "This was the first time it was in your face, though. You've never experienced violence, or even just the threat of it, in quite that real of a situation." Despite the reputation in popular culture, most werewolves didn't live their lives in a constant parade of violence and bloodshed. A lot of people assumed that lycans were brutish and aggressive, but the fact was most werewolves Geoff knew went out of their way to avoid situations like that. Since high emotions and bloodshed were often triggers to an uncontrolled shift, it would be highly counterproductive to rampage around like some kind of stereotypical biker gang. Fights for succession or punishments doled out by a pack leader were generally very interpersonal, only impacting the specific wolves involved.
It only took a few high-profile werewolf attacks to cement the notion of the violent, out of control lycanthrope in the public consciousness, but for the average werewolf, violence like that was the exception, not the rule.
Naomi turned to face him again, her eyes widening slightly. Maybe she didn't think he could be that perceptive. "Well, that's part of it..."
"What's the other part?" Before she could answer, Geoff noticed someone moving toward the entrance to the bar with a large key ring. Geoff didn't recognize him, but he did recognize the girl who was coming up the sidewalk from the other direction: she was working with Naomi that night. She was the one who freaked out about their being wolves. He nodded in the direction of the bar to draw her attention. "Looks like the morning crew is here."
She looked back, nodded, and let out a soft sigh. "That's Ira, the owner. And that's Lindsay with him." After taking a second to visibly collect herself, Naomi opened the door. "Come on. Let's go." She sounded like someone heading to a dentist appointment or some other unpleasant chore, and not someone returning to a job she claimed she enjoyed and wanted to return to.
He followed slowly, giving Naomi a head start. As he crossed the street, he looked around casually, trying to mark anyone who seemed to be taking undue interest in them, but nothing caught his attention. Ira and Lindsay entered the bar without noticing Naomi's approach. She reached the front door, hesitated, and then stepped in. Geoff gave her a ten-count and then moved to the door himself. He was pretty sure customers weren't allowed in yet, but he didn't particularly care.
He entered just as Ira was speaking. "Naomi? Wh-what are you doing here?" The fear in his voice was obvious, and not a particularly promising start. His eyes flashed to Geoff as he stepped through the door. "Bar's closed," he barked at Geoff. "We don't open for another hour!"
Naomi glanced back at Geoff, but he said nothing. This was her show, for now. He gave her a small nod of encouragement. She turned back to the other man and spoke in a calm, clear voice. "I was wondering when my next shift was going to be. I'm sorry for not showing up for a while, but things got... complicated. But I still want to work." She paused, then added: "If you'll still have me." Geoff suppressed the urge to wince. If it were him, he wouldn't have tacked on that last part. He found that if he didn't give people an option to tell him no, they won't.
Ira's eyes remained fixed on Geoff for a protracted moment, but then he did a small double take when he realized what Naomi had said. "Your next shift?" His eyes bulged incredulously and he gave a small shake of his head. "Naomi, listen. You're... you're a good bartender. You really are. But..." He swallowed. "You're not on the schedule anymore." His pulse was accelerating, and a faint bead of sweat had formed on his upper lip. He was nervous, and Geoff was sure Naomi could tell that too.
"So you mean... I'm... fired?" Naomi's tone was dull, unsurprised. Nearly every werewolf had a story, either first- or second-hand, of someone being let go from their job shortly after their secret came out. Geoff had it happen on several occasions, and had former co-workers try to kill him over it. He couldn't see Naomi's face and he desperately wanted to, but if this was her first time experiencing it, he wanted her to get the full effect. His trying to ease the pain of it would be a disservice to her, and he trusted she was strong enough to overcome the initial shock of it.
"If you want to put it that way, then I suppose yes. I'm sorry Naomi – I truly am – but... I just can't have you working here anymore."
He's not sorry enough to keep you on the payroll, though, Geoff thought to himself. He didn't say anything out loud, though. He wanted Naomi to try and carry this moment. Lou might even be proud of him for not stepping in.
"Why are you firing me?" Naomi demanded, her voice tight. She was trying to keep herself under control despite getting this bad news. Almost unconsciously, Geoff gave an approving nod, even though she couldn't see him.
Ira's eyes flashed to Geoff again. "I'm warning you, buddy, whoever you are. You need to leave. Now."
Lindsay, who'd been silently watching the exchange with wide, frightened eyes, sidled over to Ira and whispered in his ear. "He's one of them, too." She probably thought she was speaking softly enough not to be overheard, but Geoff could make it out quite clearly, and from the quick look that Naomi shot him, he knew she could as well.
At that information, Ira regarded Geoff with the same expression of barely controlled fear he'd been giving Naomi, which he tried to mask – not terribly successfully – with anger. "Alright, I have had enough. This is my business, she's fired. You both need to get the hell out before I call the cops!" He said this last with a hint of manic savagery, as if he understood that calling the cops on a pair of known lycanthropes could lead to a very volatile stand-off and very possibly, their deaths.
Naomi's face fell, her shoulders slumping. She turned and started to trudge back to the front door, putting a hand on Geoff's shoulder to urge him to turn as well. "Come on," she said. "Let's go." She looked like someone had let the air out of her.
He didn't budge, causing Naomi to stop and look at him quizzically.
"You never answered her question," Geoff said to the other man.
"What?"
"Why are you firing her?"
Ira blinked. "Oh." He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbing at his face with it for a second. It was a stall tactic and Geoff knew it. Despite his growing irritation, he waited for the man to respond. Finally, Ira said, "The customers. They'll be scared away."
"Oh? Are you going to tell them? You gonna put up a sign out front that says, 'Werewolf works here, ask for Naomi?'"
Beside him, Naomi gave a low, strangled cry and grabbed his shoulder again, pulling more firmly. If he'd been a human, he would have been unable to resist her preternatural strength, but he wasn't human, and so he refused to budge.
Ira flinched at the harshness of Geoff's tone, giving a small, helpless shake of his head. "I... well... no. But I mean, they'll find out, they'll hear about the... about what happened, and they'll talk. I just gotta look out for my business, buddy. I got employees to worry about too." At this he put a reassuring hand on Lindsay's shoulder, an inverted reflection of what was going on between Geoff and Naomi.
"Yeah? What if your customers just don't care? Did you ever stop to consider that?"
Ira glared at him but didn't have a ready response to that. Finally, he muttered. "I gotta protect my employees too."
At those words, Naomi gave a soft whimper; Geoff wasn't even sure if the two humans could hear it. He had been reasonably calm, albeit irritated, but hearing that sent his anger into overdrive. "Protect them from what?" He spoke loudly, jerking his thumb at Naomi as he did so "From her? Buddy, you cater to alcoholics, I guarantee you most of your customers are more of a threat to your employees than Naomi ever could be. Give her one night off a month and everything else is fine." Unconsciously, he'd stepped forward, despite Naomi tugging him more urgently to leave.
Ira stepped back quickly as if Geoff was about to attack him. He bumped up against a barstool and stumbled, thankfully catching himself before he could fall. That would only make matters worse (not that Geoff thought this situation was at all salvageable; this had become an argument of principle more than practicality for him). "Stay, back! Don't come any closer! Lindsay, call the cops!"
Geoff did as he was asked, expelling his breath in a frustrated sigh. "Lindsay, you don't need to do that," he said to the woman. He needn't have bothered; Lindsay was rooted in place, her chest rising and falling rapidly. It was hard for his wolf not to take notice of all the "prey" cues she was giving off. He felt the preternatural energy coiling within him, but he tamped it down easily. Even Naomi was showing no outward sign of a struggle that he knew must be harder for her – she was more than strong enough to manage through this situation without giving over to the wolf's urges, but there was something infinitely worse about fighting off the desire to hunt someone you thought was your friend.
He knew that from experience.
"Get out!" Ira cried shrilly. "I'm calling the cops!"
Geoff didn't bother pointing out that neither he nor Lindsay were anywhere near a phone. Instead he looked the man squarely in the eye and spoke. "Fair enough. We'll leave. Just as soon as you tell her why you're really firing her."
"Wh... what do you mean?"
"Don't bullshit us. I want to hear you say the words."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Geoff, please, don't do this," Naomi said, pulling more firmly, almost desperately on his arm. "Let's just go. I don't want to be any more trouble."
"That's just it, though!" At this, Geoff turned to face her. "You haven't been any trouble. None of what happened is your fault, and if he's going to fire you, he at least owes you the decency of not lying directly to your face about it." He wasn't even going to challenge the legality of the firing itself; most lycans wind up becoming experts on labor laws whether they wanted to or not, and he knew that employers could fire somebody for just about any reason, with precious few exceptions. Unless lycanthropes became a protected class – something that nobody, not even the few lycan-rights advocates fighting on their behalf, thought was likely – Ira could fire Naomi for being a werewolf and there wasn't anything they could do to contest it.
Geoff just wanted the man to be honest about it.
He turned back to Ira, crossing his arms. "Well? You gonna say it or not? Come on, I know the reason. You know the reason. Just say it out loud and we'll be on our merry way."
The look Ira shot him was one of pure loathing. Geoff had seen that look before. People didn't like to have their own biases thrown in their faces. He waited, not breaking eye contact, raising his brows expectantly. "Fine," the man hissed. "She's a werewolf and I don't want her here. I'm scared. Happy now?"
So much for Lou being proud of him.
"Oh not hardly," Geoff responded, forcing a cheerfulness he didn't at all feel into his tone. "But that's nothing new. C'mon Naomi, now we can leave." He turned, finally acceding to the girl's urging. Her arm fell limply from his shoulder as he did, and he stopped himself mid-motion. She'd locked eyes with Lindsay, her eyes glistening with unsplit tears.
"I'm sorry," Naomi said to her. "I... I thought we might be friends."
"Yeah," the other woman croaked. "Well." She couldn't seem to find any more words than that and fell silent.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," Geoff told her firmly. Naomi wasn't in the mood to hear it, turning on a heel and almost running back to the door. Geoff surveyed the two humans with one final, distasteful look. "Well," he drawled, "this has been just horrible. I can't wait to never do this again." He turned and followed Naomi out the door without waiting for a response.
She was already standing by the passenger's side door when he emerged from Tinker's, vibrating with impatience. He hadn't been that far behind her; he wondered idly if she'd used some lycan speed to get over there, and even more idly if it was on purpose or not. Another time, he might have inquired about that, but given the situation he was willing to overlook a minor indiscretion.
He was halfway across the street when he clicked the key fob to unlock the doors, and Naomi opened hers immediately, buckling her seatbelt and throwing her weight against the backrest, crossing her arms in a huff. She radiated an energy that had very little to do with metaphysics; it was like an over-tightened guitar string just waiting to snap.
Geoff eyed her warily through the driver's side window for a few seconds before opening his own door. She was going to want to talk about this, no doubt. That was where he was the weakest: the talking. Oh, he could rattle on about werewolf lore and traditions for hours on end but dealing with the human side of things was something he was not always the best at, and he wasn't too proud to admit it. Still, he owed it to Naomi to at least try.
He waited until they were well away from the bar, merging onto the highway to head back to the pack complex, before he broke the taut silence. "So... that wasn't exactly how I thought things would go down."
Silence from Naomi. She was turned as far away from him as the limited space of the passenger compartment allowed. He took his eyes off the road just for a second, glancing toward the other wolf. It was only then that he realized she was silently crying. It must have taken incredible restraint on her part to keep him from noticing for so long.
If "talking about stuff" was hard for him, throwing a crying female into the mix made things infinitely more difficult. It wasn't that he thought less of Naomi – or anybody – for crying, but he just could not figure out how to carry on a conversation with someone who was in the act of weeping. He would have shamelessly pawned this off on Lou, if not for the fact that she wasn't in the vehicle, and he and Naomi had a thirty-minute drive ahead of them. He could drive for hours in silence, no matter how awkward, but add tears into the mix and it completely broke his resolve.
"Naomi. I'm – I'm sorry for what happened." The words seemed clumsy to his ears, and he grimaced.
Silence from Naomi. The tears were flowing more freely now; there was the faintest salinity in the air. It was just enough for Geoff to perceive it, and that probably had to do with the enclosed space in the car in addition to his werewolf senses.
Geoff frowned, focused on driving for a time. He replayed the events in his head, racking his brain for something else to say. He really was not great at this. He tried to imagine how it must have been from her perspective, something at which he was not at all proficient. The frown deepened as he perceived something that might have had an unintended consequence for her.
"I'm sorry if... I made things worse by... being there." He grimaced again, mentally cursing himself. What he probably should have said was "being myself," but he did not want to come across as insincere. He had no qualms about apologizing for his actions when he was in the wrong, but he truly did not think he did anything to warrant it. But as he remembered the increasing urgency with which she wanted to leave, he may have protracted the experience unnecessarily.
Naomi started to speak, but only managed a low choking sound at first. She swallowed thickly and tried again. "Why did you make him say it?" She kept her body angled away from him, not looking at him as she asked the question.
He didn't need her to clarify what she meant. In that instant, realization struck him. Realization, tinged with something else. Shame, perhaps? Lou would have perceived it immediately. She was always telling Geoff that not everybody needed the same things he did, but no matter how often he heard it, that lesson never seemed to sink in. He fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose; since he was currently speeding down the highway that seemed ill advised.
He still didn't think he did anything "wrong" per se, but he could at least understand part of why she was so upset.
Maybe. Possibly. Or he could be on the completely wrong track. That was always a possibility, too.
He drove in silence for a few miles, trying to think of the best way to explain it. He could picture the rationale in his head, but he couldn't find the exact words to express it. Finally he made a low, frustrated sound and just started talking so she wouldn't think he was ignoring the question.
"Okay, so listen. It's like this," he began, speaking slowly, trying to put thought into every word before he spoke it. It was uncomfortable for him; Geoff liked to extemporize, and he was usually pretty good at it. "Guys like that, letting them get away with it without making them say it to your face, that makes them more comfortable. You saw how much he didn't want to come out with it, right?" He fell silent, waiting for a response. He got none but pressed forward anyway. Surely she saw it. "That asshole doesn't deserve to be comfortable about what he did. He needed to say it out loud, even just so he could hear it. Hear how goddamned ridiculous it was."
He found himself out of words and shut up abruptly. That explanation wasn't exactly right, but it was close enough that he hoped he would get the general point across.
Silence from Naomi.
A minute passed, then two, then five. Geoff gritted his teeth, trying to think of some other way to explain it, an analogy or something that would help her understand. Problems were so much easier when he could punch them into submission.
Suddenly: "We were supposed to go shopping."
"What?" Even in the confines of the car, it was very hard for him to hear what she said.
Finally Naomi turned, her motions slow and deliberate, like she was afraid she'd fall apart if she moved too quickly. Twin lines of moisture ran down her cheeks, which she made no effort to wipe away. "We were supposed to go to the mall last weekend. Lindsay and me. We made plans before... before it happened." She was speaking louder now, but not by much. "She liked to watch me bartend, and I thought we were going to be friends. Just... something normal." Her voice cracked on that last word, and she shook her head helplessly.
Geoff risked another glance her way, but he truthfully didn't know what she wanted him to say. Having friendships outside the pack wasn't discouraged, but it was something he never really needed. Then again, his days were usually too full of wolf business to really maintain any semblance of a normal human friendship even if he did desire that.
"Oh," he finally said. They were only a few exits from the complex now, and then Naomi would be able to confide in Blysse, or Lou, or someone far better equipped to help her process the day's disappointments than he was. "Well, I'm sorry for that." He was, but that felt like something that he would be expected to say anyway, given the circumstances.
Naomi shook her head again. "It's not your fault." She turned away again in her seat.
He wasn't completely sure he believed her.