Fic: Phases of the Moon (In Plain Sight, 7/7)
It's finally finished! I would have posted it a little sooner, but I was a bit busy this past weekend with geeking out at Emerald City Comicon.
Title: Phases of the Moon
Ratings, summary etc. same as in Part 6
Author's Note: Many thanks to kaffyr for her expert beta.
~
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
~
Chapter 7
“Mary!”
Marshall looked toward his fallen partner in distress, and then back at the three other inhabitants of the room who were currently mid-transformation. It was the most bizarre thing he had ever seen, and at any other time he knew he would be watching in utter fascination. Still keeping his weapon trained on the wolf that had been Roman, he took a step closer to Mary.
“Ugggh,” came her voice. “I-- I think I'm all right. Just some stomach pain, that's all.”
Marshall exhaled the breath he'd been holding. “Thank God.” The aconitum had worked, then; it couldn't be poisoning her now, since she'd eaten the cupcakes almost an hour ago and the toxin worked much faster than that. Perhaps it was some kind of lingering lycanthropic reaction that was causing her pain. Or perhaps--
His calculations were interrupted by the growls of the three huge wolves now facing them in the room, which suddenly seemed much too small. “Uh, Mary?” he said quietly. “If you could pick up your gun, and I do mean right now....”
Mary groaned again, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand close around the gun, and a second later she was on her feet. “Oh. Right,” she panted, following his gaze. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
Roman and the others were still snarling, and now they began taking slow, stiff-legged steps toward the humans. Classic aggressive posture, used to confront threats, Marshall noted grimly. Then Roman stopped abruptly, turning his gaze on Mary. He cocked his head and whined. The other two wolves also stopped moving. They seemed to be watching their leader - in confusion, if Marshall could read canine body language well enough.
“I think he recognizes you,” Marshall murmured, intrigued in spite of the gravity of the circumstances.
“What?” Mary swallowed. “How-- I mean, so what if he does? Does that help us somehow?”
Marshall inched closer to her. “I don't know. Maybe he has some remnant of rational thought left to which we can attempt to appeal.”
She stared at him. “Rational thought? Are we both talking about the same psycho?”
“Mm, maybe not,” Marshall acknowledged. “Let's just take advantage of whatever's going on by trying to get out of here, shall we?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The two of them began backing toward the door extremely slowly. Marshall was very relieved that the wolves didn't seem to object to this as much as Mary had when she'd ended up knocking him to the ground a couple of months ago. He really wasn't interested in getting another concussion - or getting attacked at all if he could help it.
They had made it almost to the entryway of the house when Roman growled again and crept forward, with Mitch and Tia not far behind him. The three of them quickly moved to hem in their prey.
“Okay, that went well,” Mary sighed, glancing at each of the animals now surrounding them in turn. “Any other ideas?”
Marshall thought frantically. “Not really, other than shooting them before they kill us.”
“Yeah, I'd pretty much reached that conclusion myself, genius,” she said wryly.
Another tense few seconds passed. Marshall was sure an attack would come any second.
Just then, there was a sound from outside the front door - something that might have been a footstep. Everyone inside the house, wolves and humans alike, turned toward it.
Marshall didn't hear anything more, but the wolves still seemed to be on high alert. In fact, to his intense surprise, after a moment Roman pushed past him on his way to the door, and the other two followed. He staggered slightly before regaining his footing. Whoa.
Roman reared up on his hind legs and pushed the screen door open. Marshall tried not to laugh as it slammed shut on the nose of the closest-following wolf, who yelped. By the way she was smiling, Mary shared his amusement.
As soon as all three of the wolves were outside, there was a sudden shout of “Now!”, and the sound of something shooting through the air as heavy-duty flashlight beams were illuminated. Then there were more yelps, and then a second of silence.
“Mary? Marshall? You in there?”
Mary shot a shocked glance at Marshall, and they almost chorused, “Stan?!”
“Inspectors.” He sounded relieved. “Would you exit the house please? We're securing the animals in cages out here, but, uh, to say there are a lot of unanswered questions about what exactly is going on would be an understatement.”
Marshall holstered his gun and nudged Mary with his elbow. “Shall we face the music, then?”
“I guess.” She sighed and secured her own weapon.
They were just about to step outside and confront the crowd of law enforcement that was gathered on the front lawn when Mary stopped and stared. Her gaze was directed at the four cages, each with a tranquilized wolf inside. “Marshall. That's four. Where's the fifth?”
A low growl from behind them answered her question. Marshall whirled around and reached for his gun, but before his fingers could close on it, the wolf was on him.
“Marshall!”
This time, Marshall fell backward into the frame of the door. His left shoulder took most of the force of the fall, and then the weight of the creature drove him the rest of the way to the ground. It snarled and lunged for his throat. Desperately, he tried to get his arm between his body and the exceedingly sharp teeth that were much too close.
Just as the wolf's teeth were about to fasten onto his arm, the animal jerked twice and collapsed onto his chest. Marshall took a second to try to breathe before shoving it off him.
“Marshall, are you all right?”
Mary was standing over him, gun still pointed at the wolf, her face stiff with dread.
He took another deep breath and exhaled it slowly, feeling his heart pound. “I think so. Is it--” He swallowed, thinking of the two pack members that had not been accounted for previously. Whether it was Laurel or Adele lying on the floor next to him, and although he was glad that the attack had not injured him more severely, he couldn't truly blame either one for what had happened. And if it was Laurel... “Is she dead?”
Mary bit her lip, putting away her gun again. Before she could say anything, the screen door opened and Stan hurried in, followed by several officers.
“Marshall, are you hurt?”
“Not seriously,” Marshall assured him, although he accepted the man's offered hand to help him stand up. He was going to have a lot of bruises on his back, Marshall figured, wincing. And as for his arm--
“Oh, God, did she break the skin?” Mary demanded, grabbing his arm in dismay.
Marshall pulled it back. “Ow! Geez, great bedside manner there, Ms Nightingale. I haven't had a chance to check yet.”
“Wait a minute - 'she'?” Stan said, looking at the still form of the wolf and then back at his inspectors in confusion.
“Yeah,” Marshall muttered, deciding to leave it at that for the moment. He peered at his arm. The sleeve of his jacket was completely torn to ribbons, but there was no blood to be seen. “I don't see any blood, and it doesn't really hurt. Those are probably good signs.”
Mary sighed in obvious relief, though all she said was, “Good. I'd hate for you to have to get rabies shots or anything.”
“All right, all right,” Stan cut in, exasperated. “I've got four tranquilized wolves outside, one here that seems to be dead, and--” He glanced at the other officers in the room, who were spreading out to search the place, and lowered his voice. “And no witness in sight. Would you care to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Marshall caught Mary's eye. “Let's go talk somewhere more private, Chief,” he suggested.
Stan seemed satisfied with this. They had left the house before Marshall realized Mary wasn't with him; he turned around and saw her bending down next to the wolf she had shot, her hand at its - her - neck. “There's a pulse!” she said. “I don't know if it'll last, but she's still alive.”
Stan raised his eyebrows, but turned to one of the nearby uniforms. “Make sure this animal gets to an animal hospital, would you?”
The man nodded, and Mary finally stood up and followed them outside. She whispered in Marshall's ear, “I don't think it's Laurel, it's Adele. I could be wrong, but that's what I think.”
Marshall nodded slightly. After everything he had witnessed, he could easily believe that Mary would know the wolf's human identity.
They took a detour so that Marshall could get a brief examination and some high-caliber painkillers from the ambulance that had been called in case of necessity. The ache in his back would be much worse if he didn't deal with it before the adrenaline fully wore off, he knew. Then they made their way over to a familiar black SUV at some distance from the house. In deference to his injury, Marshall was allowed to sit in the passenger seat with the door open.
“Now,” Stan said, hands on his hips, “explain. Maybe you could start with this Roman character, and what witness you were protecting by running out here by yourselves while there were dangerous animals on the loose.” Then he blinked and looked more closely at Mary. “And why did you bring a purse to a standoff with potential kidnappers? Never mind, first question first.”
Marshall stayed silent for the present. He would assist Mary in telling the tale if she needed it, but he hoped she would own up to most of it herself. After all, it wasn't as if they had no proof: as soon as the night was over, the caged, sedated animals would resume their human forms.
“Okay,” Mary began, “but first, you have to promise not to tell us we're crazy until we finish the entire story.”
Stan's eyebrows went even higher. “All right. I promise not to interrupt.”
Marshall grinned in anticipation. This was going to be good.
~
One Lunar Month Later (September 23)
“No, seriously, Marshall - where are we going?” Mary asked for the tenth time. She turned in her seat to fix her partner with a look that would tell him she meant business, but he just smiled and shook his head.
“I'm well aware that you're not a fan of surprises, Mary,” he replied, “but I promise you, this one is a good surprise, and it doesn't involve an awkward social gathering or even any real effort on your part. So just be patient.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and sat back. “But I'm holding you to the 'no real effort' thing, or there will be consequences.”
“Uh huh.” He didn't sound particularly worried.
“And this fabulous surprise better include dinner, too,” Mary continued as her stomach reminded her that she'd had to skip lunch today, “because I'm hungry.”
Marshall abruptly got an amused look on his face, and Mary cut him off with a raised hand. “Don't you dare start singing Duran Duran, or I will literally kick you out of the car and take the wheel.”
His grin only widened. “Aw, but it's such a classic! You're no fun.”
Ignoring this, Mary repeated, “Will there be food?” She was somewhat pacified when he nodded.
Today, she reflected as the SUV continued to make its way toward wherever the hell Marshall was taking them, had to rank up there in her top ten craziest days - and that took some doing.
It had begun at the hospital, where Adele Schmidt had finally recovered enough from the surgery following her gunshot wounds to be allowed visitors. To Mary's surprise, she had been first on the list of people the young woman wanted to see. Marshall would have come along with her, but he had some witness visits that couldn't wait.
The meeting had gone better than Mary had feared, for both of the participants. Despite her entire lack of doubt that shooting Adele had been the only possible course of action to save Marshall, it hadn't been easy to hear from the doctor that the girl might not recover the use of her legs due to her injury. But Adele hadn't been angry at all. Instead, when Mary had entered her room, she regarded her with a clear, calm gaze and told her, “I'm glad you came. I didn't think you'd want to see me.”
Mary almost laughed as she replied, “Well, I would have thought you wouldn't want to see me, seeing as how I'm the one who put you in this bed.”
“But I was holding your friend Laurel hostage,” Adele pointed out, “and then I attacked your partner.” She blinked. “Is-- is he here?”
“No, he had to take care of some things,” Mary said. “But you should know, my partner doesn't have any hard feelings toward you. He's like the poster boy for 'understanding.'”
Adele smiled a little at that. “Tell him thanks, then.”
Silence fell for a brief period. Mary cleared her throat. “So, um, what can I do for you, Adele?”
The girl suddenly seemed much younger as she swallowed and looked toward the window. “Do you really have a cure for this werewolf thing? I thought I remembered that you weren't a wolf when I last saw you, and I guess you couldn't have been, since you used a gun, but you should have been...”
“Yeah.” Mary blew out her breath. “Yeah, I do know of a cure, and it works. I'm living, non-furry proof of that two nights a month.”
In fact, the second night of the full moon last month, Mary had experienced much less pain than the first night after the wolfsbane. This was good for many reasons, not least of which it meant that she was better able to concentrate on the look of utter shock on Stan's face as he watched the transformation of Roman, Mitch, and Tia, who had all refused the wolfsbane that had been offered to them and had in consequence spent the night in one very secure jail cell. Of course, Stan had already witnessed the werewolves reverting back to human form the morning before, but his amazement - and horror - hadn't lessened since then.
The staff at the emergency veterinary clinic where Adele had been taken were probably the most surprised that morning, though, having witnessed their critically injured patient change from a wolf into a human while they were still trying to determine the best means of treating her. Fortunately for Adele, the change did not aggravate her injuries significantly, likely due in part to Mary's call to warn them as best she could about what was about to happen.
Adele's eyes widened. “Really? There is something that works? Will you get me it so I don't have to change tonight?”
Mary smiled and reached into her shoulder bag. She'd brought some of Marshall's latest batch of cupcakes, just in case Adele might be less crazy than the others in the pack (except for Laurel, who had eaten hers as soon as she was able last month). “I have it right here. The cure is a specific kind of herb, and it's baked into these, believe it or not.”
“Cupcakes?” Adele said in confusion.
“Yep,” Mary confirmed. “My partner's idea. He's a good cook, though, so dig in.”
She had left the hospital in a good mood, which had turned to wry amusement when she happened to turn on the radio and it was playing “Hungry Like The Wolf.” Then both the amusement and the song had been forgotten as she met Marshall at the courthouse for the day's next item of business: the preliminary hearing in the kidnapping case against Roman and the rest of the pack (other than Laurel).
Roman - whose real name, it turned out, was the much more prosaic Richard Andrews - had gotten himself and his co-defendants a lawyer. Then there was some behind-the-scenes communication from the various law enforcement branches involved in which it had been made clear to the defense attorney that he needed to get his clients to plead guilty unless they wanted to be shipped off to some secret location to spend the rest of their lives as lab rats. Providing the lawyer with footage of his clients' transformation had been quite effective in securing his cooperation, according to what Stan had heard. Though Mary wasn't entirely comfortable with the threat against the pack if she thought about it too much, she and Marshall went to the hearing to show their support for Laurel anyway.
The whole thing hadn't taken long, thankfully. The judge had in fact determined that there was enough evidence for the case to go to trial, although many of those present were aware that the trial would no doubt be as hushed-up as possible. Mary tried not to dwell on what was probably going to happen to Roman and the others after they were found guilty. At least they were no longer free to harm anyone else.
Then, on the way back to the office, the radio had been playing some extra sappy version of “Blue Moon,” and when she'd rolled her eyes and changed the channel, it was to CCR's “Bad Moon Rising.” If Mary hadn't known better, she would have accused Marshall of calling all the local DJs just to torment her ... but she knew Marshall valued his life more than that.
“Funnily enough,” he'd told her after the second song and after she'd told him about the Duran Duran song before the hearing, “the latter two of those songs were part of the soundtrack to the classic horror movie An American Werewolf in London.”
Mary shrugged. “Never saw it, and it'll be a long while before I'm even faintly interested.”
Marshall had opened his mouth to protest, and no doubt to expound at length on the movie's influence on culture and werewolf lore, and whatever else, but Mary had given a very obvious yawn, found her iPod, and spent the rest of the trip listening to something more of her choosing.
They were heading out of the city now, Mary noted. That much was obvious. She looked at her watch and then out at the sky again. It was starting to get dark. Mary smiled to think that fact didn't have to cause her any anxiety whatsoever.
A minute or so later, Marshall pulled the car into the parking lot of a sushi place that the partners had visited a few times and enjoyed.
“I'm guessing this isn't the final stop on this little journey?” Mary asked as he turned off the car.
“Nope,” Marshall confirmed. “But the edibility of sushi won't suffer from a short car trip, so it should be perfect for this.”
Mary started to unbuckle her seatbelt, but Marshall shook his head. “You don't have to come in if you don't want to. I called our order in ahead, so it'll just be a minute.”
“Of course you did,” Mary muttered, watching him go into the restaurant with amused affection. Whatever the goal of this thing was, Marshall would have it all planned out to the last detail. And it was still somewhat early for dinner, so she would be patient. For now.
After Marshall returned with several satisfyingly full looking Styrofoam containers, they drove for a little while longer. Then Marshall took a turnoff that took them officially out of Albuquerque. It was another twenty minutes or so driving through Tijeras Canyon before Marshall turned left at a sign for some campground.
“Camping?” Mary scoffed, once again fixing her partner with a dangerous look. “Marshall, you know I hate camping. If this is your big surprise, you can--”
“We're not camping, Mary,” he said, and then laughed quietly. “Do you really think I'd suggest that, knowing you as I do, and knowing that if you didn't make me turn the car around immediately, you wouldn't be able to sleep and would make sure I couldn't, either - and all of this with work tomorrow?”
She pondered that for a moment. “Okay, maybe not,” she admitted. “So what's with the campground, then?”
He just shook his head. “You've waited this long. I'm not going to spoil it now.”
At long last, they pulled into a parking area and Marshall killed the ignition. “Come on,” he said. “I'll unlock the trunk, and you can help me carry our supplies to that picnic table over there.”
Raising her eyebrow at this, Mary nevertheless decided she might as well do as he said, since it might mean that she could find out what the hell he was planning a little bit sooner.
When she looked in the back of the SUV, the pieces began to fall into place: there was a brightly colored plastic tablecloth, two bottles of beer, and a few other picnic supplies in a box, as well as a telescope and several blankets. “Marshall,” she said, facing him with a mixture of confusion and some pleasure, “did you bring us out here to stargaze?”
He shrugged as he reached for the telescope and blankets. “Sort of.” When he turned to face her, he couldn't seem to meet her eyes. “It's supposed to be clear this evening, and this is one of the best places to observe the night sky in the area. I just thought you might enjoy the chance to watch the moon rise in a context that is as close to stress-free as possible.”
In the fading light, Mary's gaze found and held his. She smiled. “I think I like that idea.”
He returned the smile.
It didn't take long for the two of them to set up the table. The evening was getting cooler, but definitely not cold enough for Mary to want a jacket or a blanket yet. Instead, she and Marshall sat down to eat their sushi as the sun finally set.
The food was delicious. Marshall regaled her with sushi trivia until she told him, without rancor, to shut up and eat already. And he did so - but probably only because she told him to shut up just at the same time as the moon was becoming visible over the hills.
Mary set down her food and drink, simply watching as it climbed into the sky. Next to her, Marshall did likewise. She felt a faint echo of the same stomach pain she'd experienced last month, but it was so much less intense that she might not have noticed it at all, had she not been thinking about it.
Mary glanced at her partner and cleared her throat. “So I take it you're pretty sure at this point that Adele didn't bite you when she attacked?”
“I took some wolfsbane myself last month just as a preventative measure,” Marshall said, “but yes, I would say we've both gotten a clean bill of health by now.”
She nodded, and exhaled slowly. It was done - this whole crazy werewolf thing was over - and both Marshall and she had made it through without any permanent damage. Even the bite mark on her calf was healing finally. Her thoughts turned to the desperation she had felt several months ago, when she had been terrified that she would end up hurting or killing anyone who was unfortunate enough to be near her during the nights of the full moon, and she shivered slightly. But now that was over and done with, too.
“You cold?” Marshall asked, observing her shiver and reaching for the blankets that were folded at the opposite end of the table.
“No,” she said softly. “No, just thinking.”
The moon was nearing its highest point, and Mary couldn't help marveling at the beauty of the night sky and her surroundings. She felt peaceful, or at least as close to it as possible.
Marshall was silent for a moment, and then he inquired, “Anything you want to share?”
She reached for the piece of sushi that was on her paper plate. “Not really. Just, um, thanks. For all of this, Marshall.”
"You're welcome." His voice was warm.
~
Title: Phases of the Moon
Ratings, summary etc. same as in Part 6
Author's Note: Many thanks to kaffyr for her expert beta.
~
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
~
Chapter 7
“Mary!”
Marshall looked toward his fallen partner in distress, and then back at the three other inhabitants of the room who were currently mid-transformation. It was the most bizarre thing he had ever seen, and at any other time he knew he would be watching in utter fascination. Still keeping his weapon trained on the wolf that had been Roman, he took a step closer to Mary.
“Ugggh,” came her voice. “I-- I think I'm all right. Just some stomach pain, that's all.”
Marshall exhaled the breath he'd been holding. “Thank God.” The aconitum had worked, then; it couldn't be poisoning her now, since she'd eaten the cupcakes almost an hour ago and the toxin worked much faster than that. Perhaps it was some kind of lingering lycanthropic reaction that was causing her pain. Or perhaps--
His calculations were interrupted by the growls of the three huge wolves now facing them in the room, which suddenly seemed much too small. “Uh, Mary?” he said quietly. “If you could pick up your gun, and I do mean right now....”
Mary groaned again, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand close around the gun, and a second later she was on her feet. “Oh. Right,” she panted, following his gaze. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
Roman and the others were still snarling, and now they began taking slow, stiff-legged steps toward the humans. Classic aggressive posture, used to confront threats, Marshall noted grimly. Then Roman stopped abruptly, turning his gaze on Mary. He cocked his head and whined. The other two wolves also stopped moving. They seemed to be watching their leader - in confusion, if Marshall could read canine body language well enough.
“I think he recognizes you,” Marshall murmured, intrigued in spite of the gravity of the circumstances.
“What?” Mary swallowed. “How-- I mean, so what if he does? Does that help us somehow?”
Marshall inched closer to her. “I don't know. Maybe he has some remnant of rational thought left to which we can attempt to appeal.”
She stared at him. “Rational thought? Are we both talking about the same psycho?”
“Mm, maybe not,” Marshall acknowledged. “Let's just take advantage of whatever's going on by trying to get out of here, shall we?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The two of them began backing toward the door extremely slowly. Marshall was very relieved that the wolves didn't seem to object to this as much as Mary had when she'd ended up knocking him to the ground a couple of months ago. He really wasn't interested in getting another concussion - or getting attacked at all if he could help it.
They had made it almost to the entryway of the house when Roman growled again and crept forward, with Mitch and Tia not far behind him. The three of them quickly moved to hem in their prey.
“Okay, that went well,” Mary sighed, glancing at each of the animals now surrounding them in turn. “Any other ideas?”
Marshall thought frantically. “Not really, other than shooting them before they kill us.”
“Yeah, I'd pretty much reached that conclusion myself, genius,” she said wryly.
Another tense few seconds passed. Marshall was sure an attack would come any second.
Just then, there was a sound from outside the front door - something that might have been a footstep. Everyone inside the house, wolves and humans alike, turned toward it.
Marshall didn't hear anything more, but the wolves still seemed to be on high alert. In fact, to his intense surprise, after a moment Roman pushed past him on his way to the door, and the other two followed. He staggered slightly before regaining his footing. Whoa.
Roman reared up on his hind legs and pushed the screen door open. Marshall tried not to laugh as it slammed shut on the nose of the closest-following wolf, who yelped. By the way she was smiling, Mary shared his amusement.
As soon as all three of the wolves were outside, there was a sudden shout of “Now!”, and the sound of something shooting through the air as heavy-duty flashlight beams were illuminated. Then there were more yelps, and then a second of silence.
“Mary? Marshall? You in there?”
Mary shot a shocked glance at Marshall, and they almost chorused, “Stan?!”
“Inspectors.” He sounded relieved. “Would you exit the house please? We're securing the animals in cages out here, but, uh, to say there are a lot of unanswered questions about what exactly is going on would be an understatement.”
Marshall holstered his gun and nudged Mary with his elbow. “Shall we face the music, then?”
“I guess.” She sighed and secured her own weapon.
They were just about to step outside and confront the crowd of law enforcement that was gathered on the front lawn when Mary stopped and stared. Her gaze was directed at the four cages, each with a tranquilized wolf inside. “Marshall. That's four. Where's the fifth?”
A low growl from behind them answered her question. Marshall whirled around and reached for his gun, but before his fingers could close on it, the wolf was on him.
“Marshall!”
This time, Marshall fell backward into the frame of the door. His left shoulder took most of the force of the fall, and then the weight of the creature drove him the rest of the way to the ground. It snarled and lunged for his throat. Desperately, he tried to get his arm between his body and the exceedingly sharp teeth that were much too close.
Just as the wolf's teeth were about to fasten onto his arm, the animal jerked twice and collapsed onto his chest. Marshall took a second to try to breathe before shoving it off him.
“Marshall, are you all right?”
Mary was standing over him, gun still pointed at the wolf, her face stiff with dread.
He took another deep breath and exhaled it slowly, feeling his heart pound. “I think so. Is it--” He swallowed, thinking of the two pack members that had not been accounted for previously. Whether it was Laurel or Adele lying on the floor next to him, and although he was glad that the attack had not injured him more severely, he couldn't truly blame either one for what had happened. And if it was Laurel... “Is she dead?”
Mary bit her lip, putting away her gun again. Before she could say anything, the screen door opened and Stan hurried in, followed by several officers.
“Marshall, are you hurt?”
“Not seriously,” Marshall assured him, although he accepted the man's offered hand to help him stand up. He was going to have a lot of bruises on his back, Marshall figured, wincing. And as for his arm--
“Oh, God, did she break the skin?” Mary demanded, grabbing his arm in dismay.
Marshall pulled it back. “Ow! Geez, great bedside manner there, Ms Nightingale. I haven't had a chance to check yet.”
“Wait a minute - 'she'?” Stan said, looking at the still form of the wolf and then back at his inspectors in confusion.
“Yeah,” Marshall muttered, deciding to leave it at that for the moment. He peered at his arm. The sleeve of his jacket was completely torn to ribbons, but there was no blood to be seen. “I don't see any blood, and it doesn't really hurt. Those are probably good signs.”
Mary sighed in obvious relief, though all she said was, “Good. I'd hate for you to have to get rabies shots or anything.”
“All right, all right,” Stan cut in, exasperated. “I've got four tranquilized wolves outside, one here that seems to be dead, and--” He glanced at the other officers in the room, who were spreading out to search the place, and lowered his voice. “And no witness in sight. Would you care to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Marshall caught Mary's eye. “Let's go talk somewhere more private, Chief,” he suggested.
Stan seemed satisfied with this. They had left the house before Marshall realized Mary wasn't with him; he turned around and saw her bending down next to the wolf she had shot, her hand at its - her - neck. “There's a pulse!” she said. “I don't know if it'll last, but she's still alive.”
Stan raised his eyebrows, but turned to one of the nearby uniforms. “Make sure this animal gets to an animal hospital, would you?”
The man nodded, and Mary finally stood up and followed them outside. She whispered in Marshall's ear, “I don't think it's Laurel, it's Adele. I could be wrong, but that's what I think.”
Marshall nodded slightly. After everything he had witnessed, he could easily believe that Mary would know the wolf's human identity.
They took a detour so that Marshall could get a brief examination and some high-caliber painkillers from the ambulance that had been called in case of necessity. The ache in his back would be much worse if he didn't deal with it before the adrenaline fully wore off, he knew. Then they made their way over to a familiar black SUV at some distance from the house. In deference to his injury, Marshall was allowed to sit in the passenger seat with the door open.
“Now,” Stan said, hands on his hips, “explain. Maybe you could start with this Roman character, and what witness you were protecting by running out here by yourselves while there were dangerous animals on the loose.” Then he blinked and looked more closely at Mary. “And why did you bring a purse to a standoff with potential kidnappers? Never mind, first question first.”
Marshall stayed silent for the present. He would assist Mary in telling the tale if she needed it, but he hoped she would own up to most of it herself. After all, it wasn't as if they had no proof: as soon as the night was over, the caged, sedated animals would resume their human forms.
“Okay,” Mary began, “but first, you have to promise not to tell us we're crazy until we finish the entire story.”
Stan's eyebrows went even higher. “All right. I promise not to interrupt.”
Marshall grinned in anticipation. This was going to be good.
~
One Lunar Month Later (September 23)
“No, seriously, Marshall - where are we going?” Mary asked for the tenth time. She turned in her seat to fix her partner with a look that would tell him she meant business, but he just smiled and shook his head.
“I'm well aware that you're not a fan of surprises, Mary,” he replied, “but I promise you, this one is a good surprise, and it doesn't involve an awkward social gathering or even any real effort on your part. So just be patient.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and sat back. “But I'm holding you to the 'no real effort' thing, or there will be consequences.”
“Uh huh.” He didn't sound particularly worried.
“And this fabulous surprise better include dinner, too,” Mary continued as her stomach reminded her that she'd had to skip lunch today, “because I'm hungry.”
Marshall abruptly got an amused look on his face, and Mary cut him off with a raised hand. “Don't you dare start singing Duran Duran, or I will literally kick you out of the car and take the wheel.”
His grin only widened. “Aw, but it's such a classic! You're no fun.”
Ignoring this, Mary repeated, “Will there be food?” She was somewhat pacified when he nodded.
Today, she reflected as the SUV continued to make its way toward wherever the hell Marshall was taking them, had to rank up there in her top ten craziest days - and that took some doing.
It had begun at the hospital, where Adele Schmidt had finally recovered enough from the surgery following her gunshot wounds to be allowed visitors. To Mary's surprise, she had been first on the list of people the young woman wanted to see. Marshall would have come along with her, but he had some witness visits that couldn't wait.
The meeting had gone better than Mary had feared, for both of the participants. Despite her entire lack of doubt that shooting Adele had been the only possible course of action to save Marshall, it hadn't been easy to hear from the doctor that the girl might not recover the use of her legs due to her injury. But Adele hadn't been angry at all. Instead, when Mary had entered her room, she regarded her with a clear, calm gaze and told her, “I'm glad you came. I didn't think you'd want to see me.”
Mary almost laughed as she replied, “Well, I would have thought you wouldn't want to see me, seeing as how I'm the one who put you in this bed.”
“But I was holding your friend Laurel hostage,” Adele pointed out, “and then I attacked your partner.” She blinked. “Is-- is he here?”
“No, he had to take care of some things,” Mary said. “But you should know, my partner doesn't have any hard feelings toward you. He's like the poster boy for 'understanding.'”
Adele smiled a little at that. “Tell him thanks, then.”
Silence fell for a brief period. Mary cleared her throat. “So, um, what can I do for you, Adele?”
The girl suddenly seemed much younger as she swallowed and looked toward the window. “Do you really have a cure for this werewolf thing? I thought I remembered that you weren't a wolf when I last saw you, and I guess you couldn't have been, since you used a gun, but you should have been...”
“Yeah.” Mary blew out her breath. “Yeah, I do know of a cure, and it works. I'm living, non-furry proof of that two nights a month.”
In fact, the second night of the full moon last month, Mary had experienced much less pain than the first night after the wolfsbane. This was good for many reasons, not least of which it meant that she was better able to concentrate on the look of utter shock on Stan's face as he watched the transformation of Roman, Mitch, and Tia, who had all refused the wolfsbane that had been offered to them and had in consequence spent the night in one very secure jail cell. Of course, Stan had already witnessed the werewolves reverting back to human form the morning before, but his amazement - and horror - hadn't lessened since then.
The staff at the emergency veterinary clinic where Adele had been taken were probably the most surprised that morning, though, having witnessed their critically injured patient change from a wolf into a human while they were still trying to determine the best means of treating her. Fortunately for Adele, the change did not aggravate her injuries significantly, likely due in part to Mary's call to warn them as best she could about what was about to happen.
Adele's eyes widened. “Really? There is something that works? Will you get me it so I don't have to change tonight?”
Mary smiled and reached into her shoulder bag. She'd brought some of Marshall's latest batch of cupcakes, just in case Adele might be less crazy than the others in the pack (except for Laurel, who had eaten hers as soon as she was able last month). “I have it right here. The cure is a specific kind of herb, and it's baked into these, believe it or not.”
“Cupcakes?” Adele said in confusion.
“Yep,” Mary confirmed. “My partner's idea. He's a good cook, though, so dig in.”
She had left the hospital in a good mood, which had turned to wry amusement when she happened to turn on the radio and it was playing “Hungry Like The Wolf.” Then both the amusement and the song had been forgotten as she met Marshall at the courthouse for the day's next item of business: the preliminary hearing in the kidnapping case against Roman and the rest of the pack (other than Laurel).
Roman - whose real name, it turned out, was the much more prosaic Richard Andrews - had gotten himself and his co-defendants a lawyer. Then there was some behind-the-scenes communication from the various law enforcement branches involved in which it had been made clear to the defense attorney that he needed to get his clients to plead guilty unless they wanted to be shipped off to some secret location to spend the rest of their lives as lab rats. Providing the lawyer with footage of his clients' transformation had been quite effective in securing his cooperation, according to what Stan had heard. Though Mary wasn't entirely comfortable with the threat against the pack if she thought about it too much, she and Marshall went to the hearing to show their support for Laurel anyway.
The whole thing hadn't taken long, thankfully. The judge had in fact determined that there was enough evidence for the case to go to trial, although many of those present were aware that the trial would no doubt be as hushed-up as possible. Mary tried not to dwell on what was probably going to happen to Roman and the others after they were found guilty. At least they were no longer free to harm anyone else.
Then, on the way back to the office, the radio had been playing some extra sappy version of “Blue Moon,” and when she'd rolled her eyes and changed the channel, it was to CCR's “Bad Moon Rising.” If Mary hadn't known better, she would have accused Marshall of calling all the local DJs just to torment her ... but she knew Marshall valued his life more than that.
“Funnily enough,” he'd told her after the second song and after she'd told him about the Duran Duran song before the hearing, “the latter two of those songs were part of the soundtrack to the classic horror movie An American Werewolf in London.”
Mary shrugged. “Never saw it, and it'll be a long while before I'm even faintly interested.”
Marshall had opened his mouth to protest, and no doubt to expound at length on the movie's influence on culture and werewolf lore, and whatever else, but Mary had given a very obvious yawn, found her iPod, and spent the rest of the trip listening to something more of her choosing.
They were heading out of the city now, Mary noted. That much was obvious. She looked at her watch and then out at the sky again. It was starting to get dark. Mary smiled to think that fact didn't have to cause her any anxiety whatsoever.
A minute or so later, Marshall pulled the car into the parking lot of a sushi place that the partners had visited a few times and enjoyed.
“I'm guessing this isn't the final stop on this little journey?” Mary asked as he turned off the car.
“Nope,” Marshall confirmed. “But the edibility of sushi won't suffer from a short car trip, so it should be perfect for this.”
Mary started to unbuckle her seatbelt, but Marshall shook his head. “You don't have to come in if you don't want to. I called our order in ahead, so it'll just be a minute.”
“Of course you did,” Mary muttered, watching him go into the restaurant with amused affection. Whatever the goal of this thing was, Marshall would have it all planned out to the last detail. And it was still somewhat early for dinner, so she would be patient. For now.
After Marshall returned with several satisfyingly full looking Styrofoam containers, they drove for a little while longer. Then Marshall took a turnoff that took them officially out of Albuquerque. It was another twenty minutes or so driving through Tijeras Canyon before Marshall turned left at a sign for some campground.
“Camping?” Mary scoffed, once again fixing her partner with a dangerous look. “Marshall, you know I hate camping. If this is your big surprise, you can--”
“We're not camping, Mary,” he said, and then laughed quietly. “Do you really think I'd suggest that, knowing you as I do, and knowing that if you didn't make me turn the car around immediately, you wouldn't be able to sleep and would make sure I couldn't, either - and all of this with work tomorrow?”
She pondered that for a moment. “Okay, maybe not,” she admitted. “So what's with the campground, then?”
He just shook his head. “You've waited this long. I'm not going to spoil it now.”
At long last, they pulled into a parking area and Marshall killed the ignition. “Come on,” he said. “I'll unlock the trunk, and you can help me carry our supplies to that picnic table over there.”
Raising her eyebrow at this, Mary nevertheless decided she might as well do as he said, since it might mean that she could find out what the hell he was planning a little bit sooner.
When she looked in the back of the SUV, the pieces began to fall into place: there was a brightly colored plastic tablecloth, two bottles of beer, and a few other picnic supplies in a box, as well as a telescope and several blankets. “Marshall,” she said, facing him with a mixture of confusion and some pleasure, “did you bring us out here to stargaze?”
He shrugged as he reached for the telescope and blankets. “Sort of.” When he turned to face her, he couldn't seem to meet her eyes. “It's supposed to be clear this evening, and this is one of the best places to observe the night sky in the area. I just thought you might enjoy the chance to watch the moon rise in a context that is as close to stress-free as possible.”
In the fading light, Mary's gaze found and held his. She smiled. “I think I like that idea.”
He returned the smile.
It didn't take long for the two of them to set up the table. The evening was getting cooler, but definitely not cold enough for Mary to want a jacket or a blanket yet. Instead, she and Marshall sat down to eat their sushi as the sun finally set.
The food was delicious. Marshall regaled her with sushi trivia until she told him, without rancor, to shut up and eat already. And he did so - but probably only because she told him to shut up just at the same time as the moon was becoming visible over the hills.
Mary set down her food and drink, simply watching as it climbed into the sky. Next to her, Marshall did likewise. She felt a faint echo of the same stomach pain she'd experienced last month, but it was so much less intense that she might not have noticed it at all, had she not been thinking about it.
Mary glanced at her partner and cleared her throat. “So I take it you're pretty sure at this point that Adele didn't bite you when she attacked?”
“I took some wolfsbane myself last month just as a preventative measure,” Marshall said, “but yes, I would say we've both gotten a clean bill of health by now.”
She nodded, and exhaled slowly. It was done - this whole crazy werewolf thing was over - and both Marshall and she had made it through without any permanent damage. Even the bite mark on her calf was healing finally. Her thoughts turned to the desperation she had felt several months ago, when she had been terrified that she would end up hurting or killing anyone who was unfortunate enough to be near her during the nights of the full moon, and she shivered slightly. But now that was over and done with, too.
“You cold?” Marshall asked, observing her shiver and reaching for the blankets that were folded at the opposite end of the table.
“No,” she said softly. “No, just thinking.”
The moon was nearing its highest point, and Mary couldn't help marveling at the beauty of the night sky and her surroundings. She felt peaceful, or at least as close to it as possible.
Marshall was silent for a moment, and then he inquired, “Anything you want to share?”
She reached for the piece of sushi that was on her paper plate. “Not really. Just, um, thanks. For all of this, Marshall.”
"You're welcome." His voice was warm.
~