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"Could you sit still for one minute?" asked my partner coldly. Walter Francis—Walt—worked with me and we both worked with the police. The job wasn't horrible. Sometimes it was hard, sometimes it was boring, sometimes it was awful, but mostly it was just okay. The captain tried hard to run a clean ship and I respected most of my coworkers. There were, however, a few bad apples. To my partner, I was one of them.
Walt didn't like me anymore. In fact, he'd kind of started to despise me.
This wasn't what I'd had in mind when I joined up. It was my escape route, okay. Maybe I'd even been a bit desperate. But I'd thought Walt would have my back. I'd thought we'd be better friends by now, not worse.
I sighed quietly, and tried (once again) to sit still. It was a losing battle for me.
I'd had two friends growing up in the pack and we'd all known we weren't straight. Emma had run away to take her chances among the non-shifters as soon as she was old enough to drive. Jeremy had given in and gotten married to someone the pack picked out for him. And me? I'd joined the Shifters and Partners program to get out. Except the partner I'd ended up with was starting to hate me. It was almost as if I was in a forced marriage after all, except this one was my fault, I'd picked him, and we didn't even get sex out of it.
Walt was older than me and straight, so it wasn't like I'd gone into it expecting sex. But friendship would have been nice.
I was starting to wonder, rather desperately, what would happen if we ended up getting de-partnered. Did they just send you straight home? Maybe I knew enough by now to live without my pack. Maybe I could find some other job. Even though a lot of job choices were strictly off the market for me, due to being a shifter, not having a great education, and not being good at anything that required sitting still or being quiet for long periods of time.
Such as now.
I had been fidgeting with the things on my desk, tilting my chair, talking too much, and not even noticing I was doing any of it until he was already annoyed with me, and worse, so annoyed his jaw was doing that thing.
It was a sort of clench, pop, clench, pop thing. It meant he was really annoyed. Because, of course, I was really annoying. I knew that by now. I knew it, but I still couldn't do any better. I just got so I had to move, or talk, or fiddle with things.
I stopped moving, stopped talking, and looked at my partner with wide eyes. Freezing. It was no good saying I was sorry, because he was tired of hearing that, too. Tired of me being sorry for saying too much, moving too much, asking too many questions. Just being too much.
What was I going to do when he decided I was too much, permanently?
I never meant to break objects, or annoy people by talking too much, and frankly I still didn't know why my not sitting still should matter to any other living soul, but apparently it did—to a whole lot of them.
But he was filling out reports—mine as well as his, because apparently that was easier than helping me with all the stuff I still couldn't manage without help. We'd been here six months, he kept reminding me. Six looong months. And I still couldn't do the paperwork without him.
"I knew there'd be some handholding. I didn't know I'd be carrying him."
At least he hadn't said it to me directly. No, it was behind my back, complaining to another cop—someone he got along with better than me already, despite us training and graduating together and thinking we would be friends, or at least decent coworkers to each other.
It almost hurt more than his sighs of disapproval, his eye-rolling, his jaw doing that thing.
We were, I decided, getting quite fed up with each other. Yes. I should definitely pretend it was mutual—just a bad fit after all, and not that I was the problem once again.
It was my second try, you see. I couldn't get a partner on the first try, and now, I was six months into having a partner after going through the program again, and he couldn't stand me anymore.
I didn't like this.
Why couldn't it just be easy? Get some training, get a job, work with your friend, and be happy? I was finally learning how to live on my own, hoping I wouldn't have to go back to my pack for anything, ever. Hoping I wouldn't have to see Dad's look of disappointment once again when I proved I just wasn't enough.
If Walt turned me in for a refund, would I have to go home? Would they let me go through the program again and maybe find somebody else, or at least help me find some other job outside the program? I really should have asked these questions before I needed to know. There was no way I could ask casually now.
I didn't want to go home to my pack. Even if I had to cut my losses with Walt.
#
I was getting myself a drink at the water cooler when I heard the commotion. "Just let me talk to him," said a familiar voice, rising above other voices that sounded like my officer coworkers.
It was Henny! What was Henny doing here? I moved, and fast. It sounded like he'd brought trouble, or trouble had brought him. Either way, Henny. I felt a grin growing on my face as I approached.
He was dressed in those jeans that hugged his body, kind of indecent for this hour, and his shirt was a vintage-looking red band shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair had obviously once been extremely cool but now looked messy and not quite as cool, and his face was puffy around one eye.
"How can he press charges when he's the one who hit me?" said Henny, loud and hurt.
I approached, still smiling, but trying not to look too happy to see him.
"You know Henry Lind?" asked Drew, one of the cops trying to deal with Henny.
"Yeah," I said, still looking at him, trying not to smile. I really liked Henny. I just couldn't keep my cool about him.
"Rory?" asked Henny. His quick smile gleamed, but also showed his lip was split.
"Somebody hit you?" I said, stepping closer.
"Well, they're saying it was a brawl, but I didn't get any good punches in." He looked like he was more upset about that than anything else that was happening. "Now he's pressing charges, and I want to give him a good reason to press charges!"
"If he started it and you didn't get to hit him, the charges won't go anywhere," I guessed. "Maybe you shouldn't try to hit him now."
"Well, I'd like to even this up." He gestured to his face. "I should be the one pressing charges!"
"Let's get some pictures taken so you can prove that if you need to," I said. "It's nice to see you," I added.
"Well." Did he blush? "Maybe not under these circumstances, but yeah."
"Come with me, sir," said Drew. "Let's see about those photos, and if you want to press charges."
"I might want to press charges," said Henny. "If I have to get charges, he should have to get charges!" He was getting puffed up and indignant again.
"I'll hear from you later?" I asked wistfully. I probably wouldn't. But Henny flashed me that smile of his again, quick, and gave me a little nod.
I went back to Walt to try to be some help, and maybe not irritate him this time. Henny would probably have better luck than I would.
#
After work, I really wanted to blow off steam, but I knew I had to concentrate and figure out a game plan. Whether that was begging Walt not to get fed up with me—a losing game plan, I was pretty sure—or figuring out how to get my shit together and make this work, or something else. I thought it was probably something else, in other words, asking for help. Or at least getting some hints.
I went to the diner where lots of shifters congregated for the good food and reasonable prices. I'd made some friends there (in fact, it was how I'd met Henny), and I ate there whenever I could. The food was nice and there was plenty of it.
I ordered the special from the waitress and opened up the notebook I'd bought for planning. I was so grown up I was going to make a list. I'd forgotten a pencil or pen, but the guy at the next table saw me searching and came over and handed me one. "What's up?" he said.
It was Elias, one of my friends. He was about my age, and a fox shifter. He'd been wary of me at first, but no longer seemed to distrust me. I guess it was the whole foxes and wolves things at first, and now he was used to me. I was used to him, too. He had a nice face, expressive and cute, and the kind of looks I admired, sleek and handsome. If he ever wanted to hook up, I'd definitely be interested.
I looked up, relieved, smiling into his face, feeling open and friendly. "You're very kind. Thanks! I'm making a list."
"Okay." He settled into the booth beside me, pushing in closer. "Can I help?" He looked at my notebook.
I handed it to him. "Sure, you can probably spell better than me."
He gave me a swift look, like he was evaluating something about me, and then he smiled and meant it. It lit up his already cute face and made him really beautiful. "Well, all right." He uncapped the pen and fiddled with it, tapping his neat, slim fingers against the paper. He had perfectly groomed fingernails, which I couldn't help but admire; I found that hard to maintain. I tended to bite them, and broken them far too often, so one or more of my nails was usually black and healing up.
"What's up? Can we help?" Two more shifters slid into the booth, opposite Elias and me. It was Jasper and Theo. Jasper was a raccoon shifter, and Theo, a coyote shifter, was his mate. They were almost always together. Today Jasper wore fingerless gloves and took them off and stuffed them in his pocket before reaching for the notebook. "Whatcha writing?"
Elias swatted him playfully away. "I'm writing it, so just you watch it! It's a list."
"Ooh. A list. What kind of list?" said Jasper. "We're good at lists. What are you planning? A style update?" He gave me a look up and down that hinted just how much he thought I needed one.
"Ouch," I said, putting a hand over my heart.
Theo, the coyote shifter, grinned a little at my discomfort, but he said, "Come on, Jasper, he can't help being born with no sense of style."
I showed my teeth back at him in a fierce grin, and he returned it. He hadn't wanted anything to do with me at first, but he'd figured out pretty quickly I was harmless. Now, we just verbally bit each other's tails once in a while.
He was reminding me I'd never be as handsome as he was—but mostly due to a matter of taste, not my actual looks, so really, who was the winner here?
"This is a very important list," I said. "It's about my life, so serious help only." I made a shooing motion to show they didn't have to stay. While I was talking, two more shifters showed up and stood at the end of the booth.
"Is there room?" asked Dani. She was a wolf shifter, young and wild and on the run from a repressive pack, sowing her wild oats. She'd also hinted that I really ought to give it a try before I knocked it, and I'd had to tell her no, I was definitely gay.
She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table, showing her perky boobs in the low-cut shirt she wore. All four of us looked. Elias frowned, but Jasper and Theo seemed to appreciate the view, aesthetically at least.
Beside her was Sage, a willowy, serious-looking leopard shifter who didn't know any of us very well. She was rather quiet and spent a lot of time around the more outgoing Dani. She let Dani talk her into things, and always seemed to feel like she had to watch Dani's back for her and keep her safe.
I was pretty sure Dani could take care of herself, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell Sage. "Is there room, or should we go?" she asked rather gruffly.
Elias looked at me, slightly exasperated. "Well? Do you want a committee?" He tapped the pen.
I shrugged. I didn't care. "Scooch down. Serious suggestions only. This is important to me."
We all made room. The small booth was now full with six people in it. Elias was pressed up against me, thigh to thigh, to make room for Sage. She perched on the end, carefully not touching Elias or anything else. Dani sat next to Jasper and Theo.
"What's the list? What's the list?" Dani clambered.
"It's long, I know that much," I shot back.
"Waiter!" called Theo, holding up a hand. "We need sustenance! We're making a list!"
Jeff, the only waiter in the place, growled from across the room. "Wait your fucking turn." It was the kind of place where you could talk like that, as long as there weren't kids around. There weren't, today. It was just a bunch of my scruffy friends and a few sleep-deprived truck drivers refueling for the work ahead.
Elias nudged me gently with his elbow. I took a deep breath. He smelled kind of...nice. "What goes on the list?" he said gruffly. "Let's get started."
I took a deep breath. They were all watching me, waiting to hear what this important list was.
My knee, under the table, was jiggling up and down. "Well I'm—I might be getting too annoying for my partner."
The looks of dismay around the table and the little exclamations of disagreement made it worth hearing myself say that. "What? No! You're hardly annoying at all."
"Well, thanks, but you don't have to work with me." I grimaced. "I'm pretty sure Walt has regrets, and you know what might come next? Buyer's remorse." I sighed dramatically. "So I have to make a list to figure out what to do."
"Write that down," said Theo, pointing at the paper and looking at Elias. "Too annoying."
Elias glared at him and didn't write. "He said this was serious."
"I guess it's the main point, though," I admitted. "'Problem: annoying. Partner could send me back. Question mark.' Write that down." I waited for him to do it, and he did, reluctantly. He had neat handwriting it would be a pleasure to read later, and I'm pretty sure he spelled everything way better than I would have. I tore my attention away from him. I had to focus. I took another deep breath. It smelled so good in here, with friends and frenemies, and lots of food. Maybe hunger was sharpening my mind, because I actually seemed able to focus for once, at least a bit, with all of them here helping me, and yes, penning me in. Making me pay attention.
"I guess what I need to know is, can he send me back and will I have to go back to my pack if he does? Or do I get another try to go through the program?"
"You can probably Google that," said Elias. "About the program, anyway. Second tries?"
I grimaced. "Third."
He looked at me, really looked at me, in the face. His expression was surprised, but gentle. I looked away, ashamed, tapping my fingers on the table. "I mean, the first time I didn't get a match, that's all. I haven't been returned before."
"Okay. Third time. We'll check that. If it's not public information, maybe there's somebody you can call and talk to. Don't they usually follow up with you guys?"
"Yeah, but I don't want to ask anybody I actually know through the program because then they'll know I'm in trouble, and what if Walt doesn't send me back?"
"But if you're in trouble—" began Elias.
"Just a sec, just a sec!" Theo held up a hand and raised his voice. He began to read from his phone. "There's an anonymous ask line. Let's call it now!"
"Wait, wait!" we all protested.
"We need to make a list of what we'll ask—or I might say the wrong thing and give it away!" I said.
"What if they recognize his voice?" said Dani.
"No, silly, he won't know the people at the call center. It's probably not real people anyway, just robots," said Jasper.
While they continued to argue, I gestured to Elias. "Make another list. If I call, what do I ask and not give it away?"
He shrugged, but turned a page and started another list.
Questions for call line: how many tries does a shifter get in the program?
"Okay." I was breathing through my mouth, and couldn't get my knee to stop jiggling.
"You're making him anxious," said Elias without looking up, doodling in the corner of the page. "Everybody stop talking."
They did, somehow, even though he hadn't raised his voice.
"Go back to the first list," I said.
He did. "What do you want me to write?"
"If I can't go again, or can't get another partner. What then? I need options."
They all stared at me. "This all seems pretty unlikely," said Theo. "First of all, your partner hasn't abandoned you. Maybe you're just going through a bad patch and can work it out. Secondly, they'll probably let you go again if you do need another partner, and it might work out great the next time."
Elias was frowning, drawing slow, curly doodles. "Why don't you want to go back to your pack?" he asked, keeping his gaze on the paper, not on me.
"They suck," I said.
The table erupted. Laughter startled out of Dani; Sage said, "That's a good reason," and Theo burst out laughing. Jasper said, "Don't they all?" real quiet.
Elias said, "Okay, you've got your own reasons for not going back to your pack. Fine. Maybe you can get a different job and stay here, if it comes to that."
"Do you know of any jobs I'd be able to do? Keep in mind I'm terrible at anything that requires sitting down and using computers or writing stuff out." I hesitated. "Or math."
"Make a list of jobs," said Theo, reaching across and tapping the notebook bossily. "Go on. Another page!"
"Another page!" said Dani grandly, like she was calling for a round of drinks for everyone. "Everybody say jobs you know that shifters are good at. I'll go first: bartender!" It was her job, and from what I'd heard, she was good at it.
"I'm too clumsy to mix drinks," I admitted, holding out my big, scarred hands. "Can you see me doing that?"
She reached across and put her hands on mine, gently sliding palms across mine. Hers were soft, mine were calloused and hard. "See?" I said.
Elias made a low, grumpy sound in his throat. "Have you talked to your partner about any of this? To see if there's a solution that doesn't involve changing jobs? You've obviously worked hard to get where you are."
I shrugged. I'd done okay in most of the course work, but it was really the stuff they couldn't train you for that I was so bad at. Like sitting still. Like not irritating your partner. Like not sucking at paperwork...
"Or maybe somebody from the organization?" said Jasper. He'd crossed his arms. His face looked serious, but I could tell he wasn't mad, just finally focusing his intensity on my problem. It could use it.
I shrugged, awkward again. "When I say sorry, but can't change anything, it doesn't help. He just does this thing with his jaw and doesn't say anything in response." I demonstrated the jaw thing.
They all reacted to that. Elias just stared; Sage looked disgusted, and Dani sympathetic. Theo looked shocked, and Jasper's brow furrow deepened.
"I mean..." I shrugged. "I really thought there would be less paperwork and more chasing down bad guys."
Elias tapped the end of the pen against the table. "You need to talk to somebody," he decided. "That's final. Not Walt—somebody from the organization. Anonymous if you've got to. But I don't think it should be anonymous. If there's a problem and you guys get de-partnered, if your oar is in first, you won't necessarily be the party to take the blame. That would mean you'd be more likely to get another chance."
"See? Now that's thinking with your noodle," said Theo, reaching across to thump his arm.
Elias flinched slightly from the enthusiasm. "Is there something else?" he said abruptly. "For the list? I should get going."
"Oh," I said, deflating. He'd really been helping. "Sure, you can go. Thanks. It helps to hear options." I looked at him as he got up, rather wistfully. He was always in a hurry these days. I was lucky to have seen him this long.
"Call somebody, or get them to come here and meet you, or something. Don't wait till Walt goes to them because then his story will be the one they believe."
"I believe it, too," I admitted with a sigh. "I really am annoying."
Abruptly, Elias sat back down. He gave me an exasperated look, sort of hunted and hurt. "Why do you—"
Sage, who had been hovering near the booth, having hopped up to let him out, gave him a confused look.
Just then, my meal arrived.
Theo cheered raucously, clapping his hands together in celebration. "Don't steal his food!" said Jasper. "You act like I starve you to death!" But he reached over to snatch some fries as well.
Elias gave me another exasperated look. "Aren't you going to tell them to get off?" he demanded. "Stick up for yourself!" At the same time, he was eyeing the meatloaf longingly.
I shrugged. "Help yourself. I'll just order more." I could afford it—at least right now, while I still had my job.
I reached for the fork and began to eat around the others. Permission given, they all helped themselves. Even Sage dived in. The food was gone in moments.
Fortunately, Jack appeared then, giving us a sarcastic lip curl. "More of the same?" he asked, tapping his tablet. "Or does the committee want to make a list?"