queen-of-the-collar‌:

What happened… Budd looked at the almost empty bottle, raised it and swallowed the remains of the alcohol, then put the bottle on the ground. Three years passed, but memories were still bright, no amount of whiskey could make them fade. He’s done many terrible things and killed many people, but since they founded the squad it was always for money and never personal. What they had done last time was only for Bill and only because of him.

“There was one girl, Beatrix Kiddo, Bill named her Black Mamba. She was really good and quite pretty, she stole my brother’s heart. I don’t know when she met that guy and decided to leave Bill and the squad, before or after he knocked her up, but well, she did. We found her in Mexico with a belly as big as a montgolfier, they were going to get married, and it was a rehearsal. We killed them all, the groom, the priest, the bridesmaids, his parents. B. got a bullet in her head. And that was the big red dot in our story. As far as I know, now she’s in a coma somewhere and Bill raises their common kid.“ He got up from his seat swaying a little, “You better keep running and never stop.“

Jane listened intently, the story both intriguing and tragic. She had never done something on that level, but she had come close. Once, anyway, a massacre at a mall that she didn't know she was part of until it was too late.

The raw emotion from Budd made that all set in in such a genuinely serious light. No jokes here, she would make them a few weeks down the line. Right there, it was real. And by God did that set her on edge.

"You prepared for if she ever wakes from the coma?" Perhaps a stupid question, but a valid one surely. "...why do you say it like that? To keep running? That's ominous."

Remaining seat, not wanting to get up just yet, she'd listen to Johnny Cash playing softly as long as she could. Maybe she wouldn't sleep. Wouldn't that be funny?

queen-of-the-collar‌:

He was everything, a stray dog, a killer, a monster. 99 percent of the time he didn’t deserve anyone’s trust, but he never gave empty promises, especially to someone he actually liked. He wasn’t going to disappoint her, at least he was going to try not to.

Vic waited until the door closed behind her and started his bike again. He drove the same road, thinking of her and didn’t regret a second or a word. At home, after taking off his boots and jacket, he pulled out the phone, hit several numbers and typed a text. “Good night, Jane.” No ‘kisses’, no heart emojis, he didn’t want to seem too soppy. He hit ‘send’ and put the phone at the window sill before starting to undress completely, this was a good starry night, just right for a hunt.

She was getting changed when her phone 'pinged'. Brows arched, leaving it a few minutes as she performed her nightly ritual and then climbed into bed. Upon opening the message, she couldn't help but grin widely.

[Message: Vic: Sent] Goodnight, Vic. You thinking of popping into the bar tomorrow?

Was that forward? Was it not? Did it sound desperate? Panic. Mild, yes, but there. Maybe he had better things to do, they all usually do.

queen-of-the-collar‌:

A sudden brief thought hit him as he watched her blushing slightly again after his offer. He imagined them running together through the night like this one, the Rottweiler and the wolf, hunting together, sharing a meal, howling at the moon. Romantic, but hardly possible. Vic looked at the house where she lived, her instincts probably wouldn’t let her make him her pack.

“I will call you,“ he said looking down at his hand, “You call me, too, if you get bored serving drinks, you know.“ His eyes met hers, the rational part of his brain tried to dissuade him from what he was going to do, and he didn’t listen to it as always. The skinwalker leaned down and kissed her lips, softly and without pressure. “Till the next time, Jane?“ he asked straightening again.

Jane gave a small nod, "I'll call you soon. And I'll be expecting your call, too. Don't disappoint me now." She joked with a small shrug, brows arching as his lips met hers. Freezing, it was merely part of her wolfish tendencies that his scent grew stronger. Much like alcohol in addiction, that small amount of contact made her pupils dilate slightly and his scent something that was... comforting.

"...until the next time, Vic." A soft assurance as she reached out to place a reassuring hand to his shoulder before turning to begin making her way to her front door. Thoughts ran rampant, and she knew the call would be incredibly soon, perhaps that night, definitely tomorrow.

queen-of-the-collar‌:

Budd saw this and he wasn’t going to joke with her. They were very much alike, calm and relaxed until the other’s wrong move, and even years of drunk life couldn’t really change this. He was helping her, but it didn’t make them friends. People like them could have a family but they never had friends.

“Impressive,“ he scoffed, “What had you done? Stolen his flute?“ But it also was impressive that she managed to run from Bill so long and so far, or maybe his brother just got too old. “I’m not much different,“ he said and tilted his head studying her, “But haven’t you heard the story? You say you were one of his, what, no one has told you? About the church massacre?” 

Cue an eye roll from Jane as Budd scoffed, and even more so at his joke. Any other day she'd find humour in such a thing, hell, in a few days she'd look back and chuckle. But now she didn't want to be taken as a joke. Alas, she endured it with a level head.

Her brows furrowed, head slightly tilting to the side. Flashbacks rose to mind, about how everyone would completely drop the subject, or side step it. Now she was curious. "They were never eager to say anything about it. It was mentioned here and there, but no specifics. What happened?"

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“That makes sense,“ Vic put the rest of his cigarette next to Jane’s before letting go of her hand and going back to their fort. “You’re hot, but I’m cool, so we blend perfectly.“ He smiled while crawling into the fort with her like two overgrown kids who they probably actually were, just two kids who played very cruel games and sometimes needed to stop and remember their abandoned childhood. The one they could have if not the unfairness of life that made them unfair, too.

“I’m thinking, no nightmares this time.“ He shifted settling in her arms and wrapped his own arm around her shoulders. “Good night, sweetheart.“

"That we do, Vic." Jane gave a soft chuckle at his logic, feeling abruptly better, even if it wasn't a scientific fact. She securely held him, as if letting go would result in him vanishing like a phantom, a punishment she felt she deserved but didn't want to accept.

"No nightmares." Giving a nod in agreement, her head buried gently into the crook of his neck, her eyes closed. Warmth spread at his pet name, and she felt somewhat embarrassed. "Good night, Vic. See you in the morning."

Then she allowed sleep to hopefully take over until, perhaps, her internal body clock forcefully woke her early.

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“Yes!“ he answered, “It’s impossible to get tired of this!“ Vic loved the road, the speed, the feeling of the heavy bike listening to his silent orders, to the subtle moves and tension of his muscles. He loved running as a dog, but it still wasn’t the same. The road had a special magic making him forget about everything except the ride.

The moon was flying along, trying to chase them, but it couldn’t. Unfortunately, their route had to end. “Is this your place?” he asked slowing down, long legs moved habitually parking the Harley at the sidewalk. “Next time I will take you to a long ride,” Vic turned back and looked at her, “If you want the next time.”

"This is my abode." The wolf gave a nod, familiar scent of her home filling her with sudden drowsiness and defensiveness. But she wouldn't attack Vic, not now. The night was ending surprisingly well, and she'd like to keep it that way.

Smiling, a soft blush flooding her cheeks, the bartender nodded. "I'd love to have a next time." Reaching into her suit pants pocket, Jane pulled out a clicking pen, clicking it down once. She grabbed his hand, pulling it up to write down across the back of his hand a series of numbers. "Text me. Or call... whatever suits you."

Standing, she remained stood next to him, not wanting to leave just yet.

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“I will not take it personally, and you don’t be so jumpy,“ Budd grumbled with a smile, his brows went up deepening the wrinkles on his forehead, and his blue eyes studied her with the completely sober look. He kicked the small rock with the toe of his cowboy boot and it flew somewhere into the darkness and hit something metal there, probably an old empty gasoline canister.

“You can stay here tomorrow and until you decide where to go,“ he said, “Just lay low and stay quiet. If someone comes to find you I will cover you up. I don’t participate in my brother’s hunts.“ He couldn’t change anything, but at least he could stop Bill from shooting another girl.

"That's much appreciated, friend. Thank you." Jane gave a small nod, easing considerably, though there was a certain edge noticeable in her demeanour. She was, by all means, a lying bear trap; dormant until triggered.

"You know how far I've been tracked, Budd? Across six states, and even from Britain and back. It's ridiculous, you know? Unless it's just me. But how did you end up so different to your brother?" An innocent enough question that was framed with a slight accusatory tone.

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“ Alright, “ Astin sighed deeply as he turned around to head into the kitchen. If she didn’t want to talk about what as going on, so be it. He wouldn’t press her. But he did worry. That was hard not to do.

Jane gave a small nod as thanks, and there was a long moment of hesitation before she stood to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Leaning against the doorphrame, arms crossed over her chest, she licked her lips as words culminated on the tip of her tongue.

"How've you been, Astin?"

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“ Fine… “ Astin sighed deeply. He wanted to help, to be more present than just… a man who lived in the same apartment as Jane - when had that happened? When had he become the man living there and not the original owner?

“ What do you want for dinner? “

Relief, in waves. That was overwhelming, so much so that there was a moment of silence before she perked up and actually thought about the topic of dinner.

"Some spaghetti dish?" She suggested, rubbing the back of her neck in a somewhat timid gesture.

cell phone headcanons

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“Why should it be horrible?“ Teddy bear, that was sweet. It was easy to forget that being soft and letting someone close so they could see you under your armor sometimes wasn’t bad at all. To drop the badassery and just feel how the other’s warmth flows into you through the skin. He took another inhale of smoke and smiled. He couldn’t see her face but knew that she was smiling, too.

“Deal.“ They needed each other. Like two people on the desert island, two souls lost in the dark. They were the same, went through the similar shit, lived the similar life full of violence and double moral. They understood each other because they knew themselves. Vic laced the fingers of his free hand through the fingers of her free hand and squeezed them.

"I overheat easily." She replied with a soft shrug, taking one last, deep inhale from her cigarette before putting it out to the side, butt end on the counter. Usually she'd drop it or, on particularly bad days, she'd put it out on her arms. Not today. Today was a decidedly good day. "So it's bad, but it's also good. Depends on the time of day."

She stared at their interlaced fingers, at the way he held her hand without hesitation and with such confidence... she couldn't help but return it. Crouching down, she entered the Fort with Vic and shifted so that she gently held him close, so very cautious that she'd be too heavy handed, as she usually was.

"Thank you." Her eyes closed for a moment. "I think I might actually be able to sleep tonight. Would you look at that?" A slight joke which she allowed herself to chuckle at. "Are you thinking the same, sweetheart?"

Was that a pet name? From Jane? What is this madness?

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“Scream as loud as you need,“ Vic lifted the kickstand when he was sure that she settled firmly, the motorcycle growled like an animal that loved its freedom but respected the will of its owner and started gaining momentum gradually. He liked to feel her grip that got firmer when they drove faster. It was a very human sensation, just two people on a little date.

Had they met under the full moon, each in their feral form, there hardly would be any conversation. Most likely Vic would actually listen to his instincts, hide his tail between his hind legs and run away, and this would be a wise thing to do. He was happy that their first encounter happened under different circumstances. Now he was almost sure that if they crossed their paths as who they really were, she wouldn’t tear him in two. At least not at once. 

At first Jane closed her eyes, burying the entire left portion of her face into his back for the first third of their trip. But then she chanced a look up to the night sky, the stars and the moon. Her grip continued to tighten and ease, that was involuntary, but she was much more relaxed.

"This is amazing!" She called out, hoping that his hearing was as good as hers. Her grin was large, and she felt pretty damn cool cruising with a big guy in her bartender uniform. Besides, if she fell she'd be fine if she changed in time. "Don't you think?"

queen-of-the-collar‌:

You need one to see one, but Budd would never judge her for the tight relationship with alcohol. For him, it was a conscious choice that dulled the feelings and let him look into the faces of ghosts without fear. Whiskey made the desert look not so empty and his job not so shitty.

“I haven’t killed any,“ he laughed and handed her the bottle, “It’s not the coyotes what you need to worry about, it’s what they can hear better than you. Who they can hear. If the desert is too quiet, it means someone doesn’t want to be heard.“ He shook his head and laughed again, “Hide your toy, these doggies are too smart to come close.“

Jane didn't take kindly to being laughed at, but she accepted the bottle and took it from Budd. Best not to piss him off, but she'd bound to do that someway, somehow. "My cautiousness is starting to catch up to me. Don't take it personally." Taking a swig, she remained sat and outstretched, her legs before her with a soft groan.

"What's the deal tomorrow?" A questions she really needed to know, because he had driven her there, and she didn't want to risk anyone coming for her and finding Budd, too.

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“ … What do you mean? “ Astin’s spine tingled. Demons? Was she talking about his own… less than holy proclivities? “ What do you mean, do we need to this? What is this? “

"This conversation. Do we need to do this conversation?" Jane moved to take a seat, inhaling deeply. "Can't we just, I don't know, do what we've been doing? Watch a movie? Eat food? Anything?"

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“ … What are you hiding from now? “ Astin’s eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn’t an idiot. He could tell what was going on. Whatever it was she was hiding from, maybe she wasn’t doing such a great job of in the end.

"Past demons, future demons, things yet to be said. Does it really matter?" She gave a small frown, one that spoke volumes: she wasn't at all happy. "Look, Astin, do we need to do this?"

queen-of-the-collar‌:

“ … Keep my voice down? “ Astin frowned, “ What’s wrong? “ He could tell that something was going on, although he didn’t know what it could possibly be.

“ Are you alright? “

"Let's not make this about me." A pause as she cleared her throat, and what was about to leave her mouth was a rather shitty way of changing the subject, "How's life?"

“ Shit! I didn’t see you there. Are you alright? “

Cue her to jump, stumbling back slightly due to the rather loud yell Astin gave. "Jesus! I'm fine! Keep your voice down, alright?" Was the blood any indication of things going well? No. But hey, Jane was adamant things were smooth sailings. "It's fine... okay?